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getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 month

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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

743 notes · View notes

luveline · 11 months

Note

hi jade! I just want to preface this by saying I hope you’re having a good day. I noticed that you were hoping for some hotch requests and I figured I would send one in. if this is too vague or you just don’t feel inspired I completely understand, but maybe you could do something with a stressed hotch getting a little short with reader? he could be on edge because of a high pressure case, or something along those lines! nothing too angsty just some hurt/comfort, heavy on the comfort towards the end if you like! (p.s. I personally love all the eddie and roan as of late, so don’t let anyone make you feel obligated to write for characters you don’t want to.) <3 -w

hi! that is so so kind!! and please don't worry I feel no obligation for that, honestly!!<3 grumpy hotch x fem!reader

Hotch is in his office, like always. If you can't see him, you only ever need one guess as to where he is. And you haven't seen him for a few days now, which is weird and unlike him. When he's in your home state, he makes an effort to see you, to dote on you.

You take his stairs slowly. Hotch will know it's you before you so much as knock on his office door. He has a hypervigilance that doesn't switch off —he could probably guess who it was by the sound of your breathing.

"Hotch?" you ask, knocking his door for politeness' sake.

He looks up for a split-second and not a moment longer. You're disappointed at his lack of reaction. How many times has he come home from wherever it is he's flown off to and hugged you hard enough to crack your spine? And, what? He doesn't like you anymore? What sort of reaction is that?

"Um, I texted you. That I was coming by. Did you see?" you ask.

"I've been preoccupied," he says, staring hard at the papers on his desk. He doesn't sound like himself.

"It's been, like, four days since I've seen you. Since you've seen me. You don't wanna even look at me?" you ask. You wish it had come out softly, sweetly, but his behaviour (or lack of) has caught you by surprise. You sound as wounded as you feel.

"If you'd looked at my text, you'd see that I'm busy," he snaps.

Your lips part in silent shock. You drop your hand from the doorway where it had been resting and take a half step backwards and out of his office. Your movement draws his attention, and he finally sees the look on your face.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

He exhales bodily. "No." Hotch closes the folder. "No, I didn't mean that."

You hover awkwardly. Truth be told, you want to run away from the situation entirely, unused to him being anything but kind. You'd like to turn around and leave before you can further embarrass yourself by showing your affection and having it rejected. He's caught you so off guard.

"Come in, please. I do want to see you."

You step inside and close the door behind you. It takes a gap of silence for you to decide on where you're going to stand, but eventually you round his desk and lean against it, forcing him to push his chair back in order to be face to face.

"Is it a bad one?" you ask.

He nods. "Right here in Quantico."

You look at his shoulder rather than his face, worried you'll find more vehemence in his expression. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I did read your text, I know you're busy, but busy doesn't tell me if you ate recently, or if you're tired, and those are the kind of things I worry about." You meet his eyes. They're always sombre, but affection softens his brow. You put your hands between your thighs to stop from touching him. "I worry about you, Aaron."

He must know what you're doing. Tentative, as though worried he's overstepping, Hotch pulls one of your hands into his. He has very big hands, and they dwarf yours near completely when he sandwiches them together.

"Don't think I didn't hear you, when you first came in," he says. "Hotch, you called me."

"That's your name."

He looks you straight in the eye, unabashed. Love lines his face, and apology, his lips curving slowly upwards in an uncommon smile. "Not to you," he murmurs.

You're still mad at him for being snippy, but the relief of his fondness can't be understated. Your shoulders sag as you relax, your posture arching forward. Hotch leans upward so he can align your faces. If either of you moved an inch, you could kiss.

"I spoke to you out of turn because I'm stressed. You didn't deserve it. I'm sorry. And I'm grateful to have you looking out for me." His smile abates. "It won't happen again."

"It won't?" you ask.

"I'll try my best not to let it."

You swallow and lean down like you might kiss him, but in actuality you need a second to collect your thoughts. You try to be objective like he is, and it never works.

Eyes closed, you say, "You've never snapped at me before."

"I have no reason to."

When he speaks, it's warm against your cheek. Hotch pulls your arm in a kind encouragement toward him and you follow blindly, setting as much of your weight as you trust him to take on his thigh. He wraps an arm around your back. His lips touch your forehead.

"Sorry," he says again, rubbing your back.

"It's not a big deal," you say.

"I upset you. You weren't expecting it from me. It makes sense for you to feel disappointed."

"It's not that," you say, thumbing his tie, anything to keep your fidgeting hands busy. "I'm being silly."

"You're not."

You're positioned in a twist on his lap, your leftmost ribs to his stomach. He hugs you to his chest and closes the gap between you, his arm encircling you, his hand stretches out across the space under your breasts. It's a comforting, all-encompassing hold. You basically collapse into him, hands desperate at his sides.

"I missed you," you confess.

"I miss you," he says, "I'm sorry for being mean." The hand that isn't stretched out across your front appears. He traces your face with two fingertips from the corner of your eye to your jaw, like he's following the path of an invisible tear. His hand flattens, his marriage and pinky finger weave behind your ear, and his thumb pulls at the corner of your mouth. It's so gentle you question if he's even touching you at all.

He lifts your face to his and kisses you softly.

"You're not mean," you whisper. "Just grumpy."

He huffs a laugh through his nose. "Very grumpy. But two minutes with you is enough to make me feel better."

You hum, "Mm, you're just saying that 'cos you're still in the doghouse, Hotchner."

His hand falls to your lap. It isn't especially sexual, more intimate than anything as he eases your legs apart to squeeze the soft fat of your thigh.

"You won't win me over that easily," you say.

He smiles at you. "No, I don't think I will." There's a secret promise hiding between his words.

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mochiroreo · 6 months

Text

I had to sign to the Devil now I’m on

Alpha!Rafe Cameron & Alpha!JJ Maybank x Omega!reader

TW: 18+ MDNI, NON-CON, DUBCON, afab!reader, reader being called “honey” most of the time, toxic alpha behavior, threesome, rough unprotected P in V, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral ( f receiving), choking,degradation, biting, primal play (non-consensual), a/b/o terminologies, marking/bonding, spitting, (let me know if I have missed anything!)

Author’s note: screw my halloween thingy. i clearly underestimated myself by thinking that I can write something short and call it a day while working full-time and writing book reviews as a side job lol. love you all and thanks for sticking around!

P.s. this is not beta’d hehe. We die like men.

“Do you need anything else?” Concern was evident on your mother’s voice, her shadow showing that she’s still outside your door, patiently waiting for an answer. “I-I’m fine mom..” you breathlessly answered “I t-think I can h-handle this for now.. thank you.” Before you even finished thanking her, another wave of nausea made you stumble towards you toilet. You tried to empty your stomach that was already empty for days now, puking your heart out.

Hearing you vomiting, your mom entered the room and held your hair out of the way, kneeling with you while rubbing soft circles on your back. She helped you cleaned up yourself, gently laying you down on your bed before arranging an array of snacks and microwaveable soups near your desk along with medication that might help ease out the pain and.. heat spells.

“I will ask your dad to give you space, we will go out for a few days, I know how much you hate our scents at this time. I am so sorry honey I cannot help you—“ “it’s alright mom. This is already too much.” You smiled at her, easing her nerves before quickly pressing a kiss on your forehead, trying not to overwhelm you with her own scent. “Just message us once you feel like its over, okay? Or anything, really.” Giving a curt nod, she left your room, hearing her softly talking to your dad.

Both of your parents are Alphas, based on the genetics class that you took, you have to be an Alpha as well. Everyone around you presented months ahead of you, some even years. Being the only late-bloomer at a small town, word quickly travelled and you were labelled as the “odd” one. You ignored them though, confidently assuring yourself that you are going to be one of the small numbers of being an Alpha. Omegas were very rare as well, yet you would rather be an Alpha with how severe Omega heats are. And as far as you know, if an Omega presents, their heat immediately follows. You really don’t want to be handling two major things in one sitting.

Something in your gut was not feeling right as you listen to your lecturer, taking notes on all the possible symptoms for every class.

You were having a small crisis during one of your breaks at the university, frustrated at still not having a status on the ‘hierarchy’ while ignoring texts from 2 annoying people that you try not to meet on campus every day. Your phone kept on vibrating, making you sigh in annoyance and proceeding to block those 2 numbers despite knowing that they will find another way to send you messages.

The two annoying people that got blocked was JJ and Rafe, who happens to be the top Alphas on the campus that you pay no mind to. Who also happens to be the people you have drunkenly slept with after a night long of partying for the first time. Waking up sandwiched in between of them, all three of you covered in bites and hickeys, your mind quickly presented every possible thing that the woman at campus might do to you. You carefully slide out of their hold and quickly dressed up, tiptoed your way out without even leaving a note.

You tried to act normal the next day, thinking that if you don’t pay any attention to them they wouldn’t notice you nor remember what happened that night. But with how heavy their gazes are towards you, you quickly realised that they are not on the same page as you are. Confusion ate you as to why would it bother them, but you continued to avoid them and their gazes. It was quiet for a while, before they started texting you. It went from “Hi. Its JJ :)” “Hey its Rafe” to “Would really love to feel you again” “you were so hot that night” which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment, quickly deleting their messages, only to be met with a new number and tons of missed calls.

You do not get their obsession at all, cause you are pretty sure you were hammered that night. Shots after shots, cocktails after cocktails, you were sure you just got wild and did the usual things to them that would be done with a normal hook up. You did not expect your first time partying to end up in their arms, but sure as hell you do not want to experience whatever might happen if word goes out that you slept with the “hottest” people in your university.

Sighing, you stared at your melting smoothie. The gloomy weather was affecting you as you slowly face the sky. You looked down at your sprawled out notes, trying to talk to yourself to study instead of overthinking about when you would present. The sky looks gloomier, making you quickly pack your things as it looks like its going to rain, when suddenly you felt dizzy.

You quickly balanced yourself, clutching your bag near your chest in shock. You were just thinking on what might be the reason before another wave of dizziness hits you once again. Sitting down slowly on the bench, you quickly messaged your bestfriend if she can take you home. Your best friend immediately came to where you are, helping you on her car. “Holy fuck you look so pale” she commented in the middle of the drive towards your house, your hair sticking at your nape and your forehead as you feel hot and cold at the same time.

Your best friend told your parents what happened, letting you rest. A few days rest would be enough, you thought. That clearly did not work. 5 days went by like a blur, days were spent on having the highest fever ever to vomiting the soup that you ate for lunch. And with how severe and noticeable the symptoms are, your parents chose to go out for a while to not overwhelm you with their pheromones, leaving you alone.

The nausea that you had throughout those days was replaced with something more embarrassing and something that made you cry in frustration. The sudden heat and wetness that kept on pooling on your legs with the excessive amount of releasing pheromones into the air only meant one thing.. you’re presenting as an Omega and you’re having your first heat.

You laid down sweaty on your bed, the room stuffy and boiling hot for you despite the cold autumn air entering through your windows and the AC that you have turned on. A wave of pleasure had hit your body, your hands pushing down the garter of your soaking wet underwear, immediately slipping two fingers in your deprived pussy. You mewled at the sudden feeling, thrusting your fingers almost immediately to relieve yourself. Holding your legs up, you continued to pump your fingers in and out to reach the climax that seems so far away. You cried out in frustration, stopping your actions when you’ve realized that whatever you’re doing is not and won’t be enough unless its an Alpha.

You quickly grabbed your phone beside, messaging your bestfriend about your situation.

“I am hundred percent certain that I’m presenting as an Omega and I’m having my first heat. Do you mind telling Pope to— you know..? Visit me.. if he’s there at the party”

Pope was your safest bet for an Alpha to help you out. The guy was the kindest and definitely one of the smartest people you have ever met, so you trust that whatever he would do would help you and ease the pain. There was a sudden pain in your chest from your heat that pushed you to release more of your scent, you’re breathing so fast that you try to ease the pain by curling into a ball. Waiting for it stop, you heard your phone pinged and quickly took a look at your bestfriend’s message that says “Oh shit, I’m on it 🫡”

You waited for what seems to be hours, as your heat becomes more and more unmanageable. You tried to look decent at least, a red, thin silk nightgown that sits on your body perfect and a properly brushed hair before swiping some strawberry lipgloss. You felt bare and nervous with Pope seeing you in this state, but you cannot help at thinking that this might be a step on having a serious relationship with someone reliable and can help you out with your cycles.

The doorbell rang, making you gulp nervously before trotting downstairs to open the door slightly and what you saw just made your stomach drop along with your smile. “What the hell are you both doing here?” You asked with squinted eyes, holding the doorknob tightly.

JJ’s huge smile greeted you while Rafe just smirked in amusement. “Are you that disappointed to see us?” JJ asked, making you squint harder at him in annoyance. Rafe just chuckled before pouting to mock at your expression, leaning on the door frame which made you close the door a bit more. “Aww, she doesn’t wanna see us.” “Shut up. I asked you guys a question, what are you both doing here?” You continued, trying not to get overwhelmed with both of their scents as you will yourself not to give in.

“Well, we heard something from a little birdie that someone has presented as an Omega and well.. that someone, requires some top Alpha service.” JJ answered behind Rafe, a menacing smile on his face as he stares on your paling face. “Mhm,” Rafe nods in agreement before slightly pushing the door, gripping the edge tightly. “Do you know who that new Omega is?” The slight push exposed your thin nightgown, and based on Rafe’s darkening expression and JJ’s slightly wide eyes, you knew that you’re running out of time to push them away.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about.” With an eye roll, you were about to slam the door, when both of them pushed it to stop you. You were still holding the door knob so you tried to push it close only to be met with resistance. “Seriously, you’re fucking choosing Pope? When you have us?” Rafe asks, his blue eyes staring at you so intently as he try to sneak a peek at your body behind the door. You heard JJ sigh, laying his palm flat on your door, hearing the clunk of his rings. “You know.. I feel a bit betrayed. You, choosing a good friend of mine, instead of me? Have you forgotten what you said to us THAT night?”

His emphasis made you shut your eyes, the image of their bare torsos flooding your memory and their breathless sighs made you clench your legs, unknowingly releasing some pheromones into the air that wafted straight into their nostrils. Both taking a deep breath, your scent smelling like amber, honey, and vanilla, making both of them salivate. You snapped out of your daze when you noticed them being quiet, realising your mistake when you noticed that their eyes are almost black,irises swallowing the pretty blue hues of their orbs.

You tried to push the door shut once again, both Rafe and JJ trying to push it open. “Open the door, honey. Come on.” Rafe said menacingly, staring you down. The vast difference of your size to them made you shiver in fear and anticipation on what they might do to you. You slapped yourself mentally before trying to push it shut again. JJ clicked his tongue before sighing “That’s it.” He mumbled under his breath before giving Rafe a short nod. Rafe just smirked before they both gave the door one solid push, making you tumble backwards.

Preventing yourself from falling backwards, you immediately balanced yourself, slowly stepping back while maintaining eye contact with the two. Your heart is pounding inside your chest so loud that you can hear it together with your heavy breaths. Rafe and JJ’s stature just scares you, their toned arms ready to capture you as they walk towards you like a predator catching its prey. When a click was heard with JJ shutting the door, you quickly grabbed whatever was near you, which happens to be a vase, and threw it towards the two.

With Rafe being the closest, he barely managed to dodge it, scraping the side of his arm. He just looked at you, snapping his neck as he chuckles. “Oh woohh..” he exhaled, a menacing smirk on his lips as JJ just laughed beside him. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He growled lowly, not taking his eyes of your quivering form. “Run, honey. Cause once we catch you—“ you did not even let JJ finished his sentence before you start running upstairs, hearing their laughter echoing throughout the empty house.

You were panicking, trying to wrack your brain on where to hide. Your house was a decent size, so even though there’s not much place to hide, you still knew what places they might not even spare a glance. You crawled inside a spacious cupboard that is concealed behind the door in your guest bathroom, talking to yourself inside your head to slow down your breathing.

“Honey~ come out, come out wherever you are~” JJ called out in a singsong way while Rafe just chuckled. You heard their steps getting closer before hearing them walk away to check whatever room they haven’t checked. Covering your mouth in fear, you closed your eyes to stop yourself from shivering. You just wanted this to end, this fucking heat. This situation. This was far from what you wanted already, from discovering you’re an omega to seeing the people that you hate so much outside of your house instead of Pope.

It was suspiciously quiet, yet you did not move. You were still trying to control your thoughts and your shivering body, your hair sticking into your skin with how warm you are feeling because of your heat and because of the cramped space. You felt another ripple of pleasure, making you close your eyes shut. “Not now, not now, not now” you plead to yourself, the heat being way more worse after the confrontation. You didn’t hear anything from outside. Trusting your gut feeling, you removed your hands from your mouth and finally opened your eyes.

Only to be met with Rafe and JJ’s big smile that made the blood drain from your face.

“Boo.”

A deafening scream escaped your throat as Rafe grabbed you out of your hiding space, your arm suffering from a bruising grip. You did not stop trying to hit him or JJ even when he carried you over his shoulder, trying to hit his back while also aiming to kick JJ. Rafe smacked your ass, the pain immediately traveling to your wet core. JJ smelled it in the air, watching you sob as Rafe plopped you down on your bed. They both stared at your disheveled state, your nightgown sticking to your skin, highlighting your pebbled nipples that are now evident thanks to the cold air from you open window.

Both men did not waste any time, taking off their clothes as you watch in shock. You cannot help your eyes trailing down, from their faces that showed no other emotion than want, to their taut arms and muscles. Your eyes widened when you saw how huge their cocks are just because of your heat, Rafe’s longer and a bit curved while JJ’s a good length yet clearly thicker than the other, making you gulp in fear and anticipation, your hormones taking over your mind as it turns into a mush.

They were both beside you in an instant, with Rafe landing a slap on your cheek that does not sting much yet brought your mind down back to your body again. “Why can’t you just follow, huh? This wouldn’t have happened if you just listened to us.” You continued to just stare at him, trying to cover your breasts using your arms before you felt JJ wrapping his hand around your neck. “He is asking a question, honey. Come on now.”

Your eyes started to water yet you felt your pussy clench on nothing, instead of answering, you have accidentally let out a soft mewl.

“Fuck, look at you.” JJ spoke, licking his lips as his hold on your neck slightly tightened. “Who would have known that you will love this?” Rafe grabbed the neck line of your night gown before ripping it, making you gasp. You felt vulnerable by the sudden action, trying to cover up your body which made them both annoyed.

“Who told you to cover yourself up, slut?” You felt Rafe smack your leg, before shoving it upwards to show them your weeping cunt. Your face heated up in shame with how wet you are, your own juices trailing down your legs. You didn’t get to answer back as JJ lets go of his hold on your neck before leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is sloppy and extra messy because of what your heat was doing to them. He tasted every corner of your mouth as you obediently open to let him, tongues dancing with each other, biting his bottom lip which made him groan into your mouth. The sound made your pussy clench on nothing, making Rafe laugh mockingly.

“Aww, look at this weeping cunt. I bet you had a hard time huh? It’s alright, I will make you feel good.” You didn’t have enough time to get down from the high of JJ’s kiss when you felt Rafe lick your folds slowly, coating his tongue in your essence. The action made you grip JJ’s hair while he press wet kisses on your neck, sucking and licking as he covers you with hickeys.

Your brain turned into a mush, the fight inside of you now long gone as you feel mind-numbing pleasure from the both of them. Rafe continued to plunge his tongue inside of you, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, his mouth and chin covered in your slick as he continue to eat you out. Sliding a finger inside of you, you immediately moaned and clenched, making the kook king smirk mockingly. “And she wants to put up a fight? Hah.” JJ commented before latching on your nipples, teasing it between his teeth and feeling it harden on his tongue. You don’t know what’s happening anymore, other than the feel of their mouths on your body. Rafe slipped in another finger, and another when you mewled.

His three fingers pumped in an out of you, setting a punishing pace. You had long shut your eyes, brows scrunched in pleasure with your mouth agape. JJ tapped your cheek repeatedly, making you open your eyes. “Keep your eyes open and watch us fuck you.” You watched Rafe suck your clit, fingers squelching as it tries to go deeper everytime, and when he curved his fingers and felt that rough texture, your eyes rolled at the back of your head, snapping open that release that you’ve wanted for days.

Rafe felt your pussy flood with your cum, clenching hard on his fingers. Continuing still, JJ grinned when he watched your legs shake, making Rafe pull back. “Oh shit” he muttered, both of them seeing the liquid gushing out of your cunt. “God.. thats fucking hot.” Brushing his hair upwards, while Rafe wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, your chest heaving up and down.

You were tired but not yet satisfied as your mouth waters at the sight of their cocks, seemingly larger than earlier. You wanted to suck and taste it, feel it heavy on you tongue but it seems like they don’t want that today. Both men positioned your body for what they want to do, JJ sliding underneath you with Rafe positioning himself above you. Your eyes were slowly closing, before a slap echoed on the room. “Fucking wake up, you hear me?” With a clenched jaw, Rafe grabbed you by the jaw with force, making you nod your head. JJ cackled, pressing his bare chest on yours. “Where’s the fight that you had earlier? Gone already?” He continued to made fun of you, feeling him rub his tip to your puckered hole. “Knew it was this easy to get you like this. Why are you even playing hard to get?”

Being sandwiched between them two sent your brain into an overload. All you were thinking about was the relief and pleasure of having them and taking them both. The fight inside of you turned into craving the feeling of their lips on your skin, their pheromones clouding your mind as much as your cloud theirs. You felt your slick drip down, from your puffy pussy lips to your hole. You felt the soft tip of JJ’s cock poking your hole, lubricating it with your slick and with his pre-cum before pushing in slowly. The intrusion made your body tense up, craning your head back and resting it on his shoulder. JJ hissed with the tightness, holding in a breath as he push,push,push inside of you. Rafe noticed how you scrunched your eyebrows, making him rub circles on your clit to loosen you up.

The sudden action made you scratch JJ’s arm that was holding you in place, squirting as he is finally balls deep inside of you. JJ lets out a shaky breath while Rafe only chuckled, before pushing his huge cock inside of you without warning. You gasped, looking down to slightly to see his flushed body connecting with yours while feeling JJ behind you, hands now holding your legs open. Leaning closer, Rafe growled in your ear while JJ moaned on the other side. Both men tentatively gave you one hard thrust, making you clench on the both of them.

The action made both of them give you another hard thrust, hands digging on your waist and hips, trying to create a rhythm. Rafe’s thrust were continuous and forceful, immediately hitting your sweet spot which made you curl your toes while JJ’s were short yet deep, stuffing your entrance so full of his thick cock that all you can think about is how full you are and how mind-numbing the pleasure is.

JJ constantly sucks hickeys on the side of your neck while Rafe attacks your lips with a searing kiss, their hips never stopping as drools drips from the side of your lips. Both blondes cannot help but bask on the feeling of your wetness and the squelching sounds your holes are making while you moan so erotically for them to hear, your sweet scent making it more pleasurable for them. “I-I’m close.. oh god I’m so c-close..!” You tried to warn them, holding Rafe close as you drag your nails on his back making the taller male stutter out a low moan.

Your warning just made JJ’s urge to own you stronger, grabbing your hips in a bruising hold as he piston his hips, feeling his wet balls smacking your ass with every thrust, prompting Rafe to do the same. “Take it— fuck, take it you fucking whore..!” He whispered with Rafe wrapping his hand on your neck, squeezing slightly making you open your eyes. “Doesn’t this remind you of that night?” He asks, following JJ’s rhythm. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you get overwhelmed with pleasure, constantly moaning and releasing a series of ah,ah,ah as a bitch in heat. “You told us you are ours that night, stuffing you so full like this.” He smirked at you, watching how filthy you look like, taking both of their cocks and letting them have their way with you. JJ chuckled breathlessly when he hear what Rafe said “yeah— fuck— remember how she moaned that night while holding her legs open? Then acted like nothing happened, now look at you. Back to doing it again for us.”

You were too far gone. Their comments slipping down your brain as your body focused on the fullness and the harsh circles on your clit that you don’t even know who’s giving you with your eyes rolled at the back of your head. “C-coming..!” You didn’t even finished your warning as you cum, clenching on both of them tightly. Yoyur body convulsed, mouth slack and open which prompted Rafe to spit on it. Both men felt your hot slick wetting them both, chasing their own highs.

JJ looked at Rafe, licking his bottom lip before cocking an eyebrow. A silent challenge to the other alpha male before sinking his teeth on your shoulder blade. The sharp pain made you open your eyes full of unshed tears, breathing heavy as pain and pleasure mixed inside of you. JJ licked the wound, pressing with kisses before huskily moaning, releasing his cum deep inside of you, filling you up as he relishes on the high from the sex and from marking you as his. “Mine.” JJ whispered while looking at Rafe, clearly challenging the other with a smug smirk.

Rafe snarled, baring his teeth on the other blonde before thrusting deep inside of your abused cunt and biting the other side of your shoulder. His bite was rougher than the other, hot pain searing inside of you as you open your mouth in a silent scream before feeling him cum deep inside of you. Kissing the bitten area of your shoulders, they both stayed inside of you before pulling out at the same time. Your tired state was evident with how flushed your cheeks are and how your eyes were barely open.

Both of them stood up, JJ laying down your tired form properly on the bed while Rafe grabs a wet cloth to clean you up. While cleaning you properly, both men cannot help but watch you sleep while baring their marks, officially marking you as theirs. They want you for themselves but both of them won’t back down, settling on the terms that they share you, as long as its only the two of them that gets to taste and fuck you.

They held your body close, the haze of stuffing you full still buzzing on their system as they settle beside you. Looking at their bite marks, both of them grinned foolishly, finally claiming you as theirs.

“You fucking assholes!”

Both men immediately sits up in shock, still sleepy from the draining activities last night. When they both opened their eyes, they saw you standing in front of your mirror, staring at the bites that they left on each of your shoulder blades in horror.

You looked at both of them in disbelief, hiding the marks with your hands while you sob. JJ and Rafe just smiled at you, clearly proud of their work. “Get out— get out!” You screamed at their faces, ignoring the fact that your heat is still not finished yet. Feeling betrayed that they staked their claim. Now everyone will know who claimed you, their pheromones will always cling on your skin and your body reacting more actively when they’re closer because they had bonded you without your consent. You sobbed at the fact that instead of having someone mature to help you out on your heat cycles, you instead got two of the most possessive bastards in the world.

Rafe just leaned back while JJ rested his head on his hands. “Now, now” JJ started. “I think you need to calm down. We really need to teach our little omega how to speak to her Alphas properly, right, Rafe?” The other just chuckled, eyeing your naked body with lust. “Oh definitely. I cannot have a bratty little omega prancing around with such a dirty mouth. I guess, we both need to stuff her mouth with our cocks, put her into place huh?” You ignored them and screamed “oh fuck off! You fucking pieces of shit!” Your chest was heaving in anger.

Rafe grabbed the lamp besides him and threw it on the wall behind you while JJ lets out a warning growl.

You just stared at them in shock, covering your now cowering body as they stare at you intensely with clenched jaws. JJ stood up, walking towards you before dragging you forcefully towards the bed by your hair. Letting out a scream,he shoved you down the bed with your ass propped up for both of them to see, before landing a harsh spank on your ass. You cried out in pain, before feeling Rafe’s hand on your nape, pressing you down and choking you.

“You are ours. OURS.” He threatened through clenched teeth.

The sun went down. The day ended with you covered and full with their cum, using and abusing all your holes, covered in hickeys and bruises that will last for days. Clearly expecting you to learn your lesson, your mind blank as you take and take whatever they give you.

466 notes · View notes

anton-luvr · 6 months

Note

reaction to coming home to riize after a long day? p.s. your writing is so good!

# COMING HOME LATE AFTER A LONG DAY ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | fluff & angst | bf au ⚝ note ; aww tysm anon :( i combined this with another ask from another anon abt riize reacting to you coming home late since they were quite similar, so i hope u dont mind! enjoyyyy

# SHOTARO. - the moment you tiredly swing your apartment door open, shotaro's already waiting for you with open arms. he lets you fall into them, neither of you saying a word as he hugs you tightly. he knows the last thing you'd want to do right now is talk, so he carefully leads you to your bedroom and lets you fall asleep in his arms, soft kisses pressed to your cheeks with whispered 'you did so well today' and 'im so proud of you' in your ears while he rubs your back softly.

# EUNSEOK. - he'll absolutely spoil you. the moment you text him 'i'll be home late, having a really tough day :(', he'll prepare everything you like. he gets takeaway sushi from your favorite restaurant, throws your favorite sweater into the dryer to warm it up for you, and starts up your favorite movie on the tv. if you had a tough day because of your lecturer, best believe eunseok will be complaining to the university. he won't allow anyone to hurt you >:(

# SUNGCHAN. - you worried him sick by not replying his messages, so now he's upset. he's about to (affectionately) scold you for being home so late, but he shuts up immediately once he sees the energy drained out of your soul. he instantly asks if you're okay, and lets you cry it out in his arms. treats you like glass afterwards, gently helping you into bed and cuddling you throughout the night while you slept.

# WONBIN. - he feels terrible. he wishes he could help you lessen the stress of studying, but he can't, so all he can do is comfort you. offers to give you a massage, makes you a cup of tea, plays your r&b playlist to unwind, and talks to you about anything that comes to mind to distract you from thinking about your studies and terrible day. by the time you wake up the next morning in his embrace, everything already feels better.

# SEUNGHAN. - he talks it out with you. he wants to understand you better so he can help you in situations like these, and his heart breaks to hear how tired and how bad of a day you had. holds onto your hands softly throughout your rant, humming responses to assure you he's listening while he lets you rest your exhausted body against his.

# SOHEE. - he knows how tired you'll be when you get home, so he prepares everything for you to relax. a hot bath already bubbling with lavender-scented bath salts, your towel and robe warming up in the dryer, and sohee ready to be at your beck and call for anything you need. the bath turns out to be just what you needed, and the night ends with sohee helping you get dressed and settled into bed, arms around each other as you fall asleep.

# ANTON. - not only are you grumbling in anger and exhaustion, so is your stomach. anton listens to your rants while he bustles around the kitchen to make mac and cheese for you, one of the only dishes he's capable of cooking. it's nothing fancy, but the hot and savory food comforts you like a hug, just like the one anton squeezes you in before he carries you into bed for cuddles.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart

#sarah's 400 ! ☆#riize #riize fics #riize fluff #riize angst #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize anton #riize sohee #riize seunghan #riize wonbin #riize sungchan #riize eunseok #riize shotaro

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months

Note

I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.

p.s I love you work. <3

༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.

― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!

― wc: 1457

⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!

masterlist | AO3

Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.

You were even looking for anything with anything else, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.

There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.

“He’s a good guy,” He said.

Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.

Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.

With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.

The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.

Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?

Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.

It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?

It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.

You didn’t know who to call.

Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.

Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.

“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.

“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.

There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”

He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.

The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.

A soft grin graced your features.

“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.

“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”

You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’

“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”

It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”

You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.

“You had to what?”

Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.

“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”

A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.

“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.

“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”

Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.

“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.

“Can I cash in that date now?”

“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter

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bahrtofane · 20 days

Text

promises under the stars - jude pov

Jude never meant to replace you. But that's how it ended up isn't it. There's no one to blame but himself, no one behind each and every decision that now has him standing at the end of an aisle, waiting for his bride. A bride that isn't you.

highly highly recommend reading this fic first. or else it kinda doesnt make a whole lot of sense on its own. then come back here. this is kinda like a part 2? kinda

shout out to this anon for this idea ! hope you like it

word count - 2.1K+

watch it - well angst, yet again. pregnancy talks the works. sorry if i used ur name for his wife xoxo. enjooyyy

p.s. - shout out to @anadiasmount for the inspo to create the image at the end ! go read all her stuff yall so good

—————-

He thinks the moment it all comes crumbling down is when he gets word of you getting mobbed. After you've just been to Madrid with him. And he can't do anything about it but send security and hope it doesn't get out of hand.

He expects you to give up right then and there, curse him and wish for him to have nothing to do with your life again. But you don't. You can never bring yourself to blame him. To hate him.

Then comes your whole family suing him for something completely out of his control. Fresh after your father has threatened him, this is just what they need to come after him legally.

It's okay because they don't win. Of course they don't. How stupid do you have to be to try and sue for going on vacation for someone you love. He wants to call you every step of the way. But his lawyer warns against it. So he doesn't. And you’re left in the dark.

Do you even know that they've tried to sue?

He can guess what you're thinking. He knows you too well. You think this is him taking an exit from his life. He doesn't want it to be this way. Maybe its for the best after all he finds himself thinking. Back to the thoughts of letting you go for your good as much as his.

But like most things in life, things get muddy.

He spends his time in a whirlwind of emotions, all leading back to you. He can not go more than an hour without you in his mind.

Even if his texting habits dont show it, he wants to talk to you every second of every day. Do you remember when he would call you to complain about the mundane. When he stubbed his toe, or drank out of his mind, pressing his nose against the screen trying to feel you against him.

Things have changed. He’s no longer the same youthful Jude with a penchant for recklessness. Taking day trips to see you, skirting around paparazzi and your families just to have a moment together.

He misses you, but he’s scared to reach out again. So he remains silent and an onlooker to your life.

Funny isn't it. World class player with more money than he knows what to do with is scared to text you in fear of what your families will say or do.

And yet, he can’t stay away for long can he. His resolve breaks on your birthday. Months and years have gone by. Legal cases are drawn out go figure. And he's been so busy with games every few days and events he can never say no too. When he gets home his bones ache, only finding the strength to clean himself up and go to bed.

When he calls you he realizes maybe it's too late. That waiting for things to blow over have left a gap in your time together. He knows nothing but memories. Your life eludes him. He tries to go back truly, but seeing your story while you're out with friends, smiling- actually smiling. He thinks he better not intrude.

His mother isn't helping one bit. She's come to the conclusion that the only way to move on and get your family off his back for good is to just move on. Find a “nice sensible girl” she says, smiling.

Jude doesn't want to. It makes him sick. Kicking and screaming the whole way about it. It’s not a bad idea in theory. Pretend to date someone. Your family gets off his back his family of yours boom you can be happy together again.

So he can learn who you are again. Find a way into your life. Do you still tilt your head when you're confused? He needs to get back to you. He can't let someone like you leave. He doesn’t just love you, he’s fascinated with the person you’ve grown into.

The thought of you with anyone else makes him sick. He still loves you, and he makes himself believe that the same is true.

If only right.

He meets Kaylie in the dead of winter. At a sponsorship event that he completely forgets about and shows up an hour late to. He looks around trying to find his agent but before he can even say his usual rounds of hellos he spots his mother standing with a blonde who clutches her necklace to her chest while she laughs.

This is the start of his own nightmare.

He comes back around when he knows he has to. After taking his sweet time talking to everyone. He tries to look for help to get out of the encounter but it's already too late. His mother is flagging him down. So he walks over, already sweating.

His mother all but pushes them together.

“What a couple you two are.” she beams, hands clasped together.

He gives a tight lipped smile and tries to wiggle his way out the awkward slew of introductions Kaylie gives of herself. But his mother gives him a look, grabbing into his arm and making stand and listen.

There's a look in his mothers eye, he knows what it means. This is the woman that's supposed to replace you. He feels sick.

——-

Along the way he thinks that maybe this is what's best for him. For you.

His family all love Kaylie. And she's sweet enough.

Nothing like you, dragging him into different clubs while you linked arms to get ice cream at the same time.

He finds it hard to keep up with her. Her life is fast paced, more so than his. Every time he calls she's in a different country it seems, catching flights and going to fancy resorts.

You never minded a quiet night in. Its what you loved, being able to exist with him.

Most of all she doesnt know him. She knows Jude Bellingham. The player, the figure, the celebrity. She doesn't know that he has a bad habit of touching his ears when he's nervous, how his eyes go wide at praise and teasing. How without a hundred reminders and alarms he truly would be late for everything. You always helped getting him to things on time.

When you were both awkward pre teens struggling to make sense of the world, you’d stop by his house to make sure he wouldn’t miss the bus. Sitting next to him on the beaten leather seats, and spitting facts you learned the day before.

He always listened. He still would today.

He doesn't think Kaylie’s noticed anything about him. She spends most of their time together taking pictures and flaunting him around. He pretends it doesn't bother him. Is the peace even worth it at this point?

She doesn't know how much he loves making little daisy chains, how much he loved putting them in your hair when you were kids. You’d throw a fit, but he never missed the look in your eyes when his fingers would swoop down to settle them gently.

Kaylie is beautiful. But she's not beautiful like you. She may have an expensive taste for clothes that allows her to put together a stunning outfit for any occasion, cleavage on display while she pouts her lips and bats her eyelashes for a kiss. Kisses he never gives her. He can't. Not when he knows you wait for him.

Sure she's great by the average man's standards. But she's not lovely like you. You could be in a trash bag and he'd still think you're the most gorgeous person on the planet.

He thinks this whole Kaylie thing will blow over, that he'll be able to get back to you.

And he tells her this.

He goes through the motions, just to shut everyone up.

Sitting her down when his mother isn’t around, “I don't love you. I will never be okay. I'm only here to get my mom off my back.”

And she laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “Okay Judey whatever you say,” bracelets clanking together.

The name makes him want to hurl. “Get out of my house.”

Kaylie has got it in her head that she's here to stay. They've gotten into screaming matches because she's gotten her hands on the spare key and spends her days lounging in his house while he's away. They're not even officially dating by any means.

And he keeps finding her in his bed, in nothing but one of his shirts. Giggling and acting coy. He's losing his patience and losing it fast.

“Why did you give her the key.” Jude storms into his mothers house.

She's making tea, swirling a spoon in her mug,”she's your woman isn't she. She needs one.”

“No. She's not my woman and you know that. Everyone that.”

She set the spoon down in the sink, going over to where Jude stands.

“Jude. you need to focus on what's good for you. And she wasn't good. You should be lucky that they didn't win the case. I went and told them about Kaylie and how wonderful she is. Be thankful. “

He's losing his mind. He needs to talk to you.

He gets the chance when he's back in his hometown. And he sees you. He doesn’t think he could ever miss you, not even in a crowd. A rush of people stop him from running right to you. So instead he texts you. For the first time in ages.

Was nice seeing you.

He hopes you can read between the lines, that you still know him well enough to understand what he really means.

I still see you.

For Jude is a coward.

——

You dont reply. He forces himself to go back to what hes been forced to know.

Kaylie is all over him, hands roaming his body. There are days when he gives in. Sharing a bed with her as a cruel demented way to find some sort of release from everything that goes on around him. The look on her face after its all set and done makes him genuinely want to punch something. A look of arrogance, like she's won something.

And to top it all off he's been called up for England. His life gets even busier, if possible. Trying to keep up with it all proves to be grueling.

But light comes in the form of you. In the form of a single text.

Watched you play tonight. I'm proud of you.

You're proud of him? You watched him?

The words bring him to near sobs, the light of his phone illuminating his hotel room while hes getting changed into his pjs. It's completely dark, his personal preference. And hes so happy he would fly the damn plane himself to see you.

Before he can even think of a reply Kaylie tells him she's pregnant. Barging into his room with a little white box in hand. He thinks is some sort of congratulations for the game. Tacky card, maybe a watch.

When he opens it, his world comes to a halt. Its a single pregnancy test.

He wants to cry. He's too young to be having kids let alone with her. It makes no sense to him. He always used protection the handful of times they did sleep together. Each time he'd only cry in the shower trying to scrub off her smell and the feeling of her touch off of him. She's only a distraction he tells himself. Too late for those words now.

It feels so wrong, so so wrong. He was supposed to be waiting for you and here he is sleeping with another woman. Who's now pregnant. He wants to vomit.

He's in too deep now. And he can't be a deadbeat dad.

Thoughts of you get pushed back to his mind while he scrambles to deal with the consequences of his own actions.

When they get back to Madrid, his mother doesnt let him off easy. Screaming at him till he thinks he's popped an eardrum. And yet there's a gleam in her eyes like she's happy it all worked out this way. Doting on Kaylie and rubbing her belly (that's not even close to showing yet), and calling herself grandma already.

The next step is obvious. He has to marry her and make it work.

So he does. An impromptu wedding that happens so fast he doesn't even hear the congratulations from everyone. He doesn't know how to break it to you so instead he posts on instagram and tries to figure out what his life has become.

Jude is nearing 25. He has a kid on the way. He's married. He hates his wife. He hate himself. Can you ever forgive him?

#jude x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude fluff #jude bellingham #jude x you #jude x y/n #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham angst #bahr footy #YAY #i acc got this out in a semi reasonable time frame go figure

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cheriladycl01 · 1 month

Note

Request

Max Verstappen x American Fem Red Bull Driver

Max is in love with her and wants a chance to make her happy, but she can't forget her ex-boyfriend, with whom she has an on-and-off relationship. Her ex-boyfriend is not a total stranger. Joe Burrow, one of the main players of the current generation of American football, in which he plays as quarterback for the Cincinatti Bengals, has known Y/N since childhood, as they are both from the state of Ohio, he is also very passionate about her and tries to make the relationship continue at a distance, as she lives in Monaco. Y/N needs to make a decision about who will occupy the space in her heart. P.S: I don't know anything about American football, but one day a Joe Burrow edit appeared on TikTok and I fell in love with it. This is not to mention anything related to American football, just to mention that Burrow also wants to fight Max for her heart.

Take my heart and do as you want - Max Verstappen x RedBullDriver! Reader x Joe Burrow

Plot: You are a RedBull driver with one of the most notable relationships on the grid due to it's on and off nature. After a really rocky patch, they are currently broken up and she starts to see her team-mate in a different light.

Credit to a-moment-captured for the GIF

You'd had the best season of your life after being promoted to RedBull. But that came with it being an insanely busy season, more exhausting and more duties to attend to. When you were in the beta RB team it hadn't really mattered as you weren't as admired as a driver on the grid but now being in a top performing team there was definitely more media attention on you.

This really affected your relationship with your now ex-boyfriend Joe Burrow, you'd dated him when you were both in high school and continued that relationship on into your adult lives.

At first when you didn't have the money to move out of state because all your money, and all your parents money went on racing, which wasn't as cheap or easy a career path as it was for Joe getting into Football and being given scholarships for college.

You had to work tooth and nail for your place in the sport. But you and Joe recently had been struggling with, well just being together in general. You'd made the decision to move to Monaco it made sense as a lot of your colleagues and friends resided there and now that you were earning more from being in Red Bull, it meant that you benefited from the tax regime there.

But that move put a massive strain on your relationship with Joe, you'd know each other for years and were childhood sweethearts, so of course you tried long distance.

It was hard because it wasn't just long distance, you both had such busy schedules that finding just time to call each other was unlikely.

Eventually Joe called it quits over the phone, the very next day you crashed out when Charles Leclerc's brakes disconnected and he cut you off going into a turn.

Joe had text you straight away that he was flying out to come and see you and make sure you were okay.

Thus was the start of the post-relationship era into the weird era where nobody not even yourselves knew if you were together or not. You loved each other so much, you were each others first in everything and this is the man you thought you'd end up marrying one day.

To the media, you were in this weird on and off relationship. When your schedules linked up, you were seen together for days on end be that in a random country where you race was, a football stadium in America where you were cheering him on, or in your new home of Monaco. But when you weren't together or close to having to separate you'd be seen arguing and fighting. You'd once even gone as far as to an-add each other on socials when a video came out of Joe in a club where he looked pretty close and cosy with a girl.

You obviously knew you couldn't stop him from seeing other people, that would be insane but you would have liked confirmation that you guys were seeing other people. As that would have been your final straw to cut emotional tie's with Joe.

Joe was special to you, and you thought he always would be. There was part of you that would always love him, and there was part of him that would always love you. But it was hard to ever let go of that which is where this vicious back and forth cycle came from.

However, the most recent time you'd been in one of your off periods your team-mate Max who you'd known also from childhood, not as early on as Joe but from about age 13 when you were doing Karting had started acting differently towards you.

"Hey Y/N, I saw these and remembered you like them" he said on the first occasion handing you a box of chocolates that you only really would treat yourself to around Christmas.

"Hey Y/N, I brought you this last weekend because you won!" he exclaimed handing you a little Monaco flag on a keychain because you won your race there.

"Hey Y/N! Marko said you needed a drink, so i brought you that Gauva juice your trainer makes for you" he smiled handing you the glass while you were sat in the Red Bull hospitality watching your on board from FP1.

And it continued, random little acts and gifts. Max had always been rather affectionate to you even before you were team-mates, sending you small compliments and making extra efforts when he pulled your name out for secret Santa.

You also started to notice his sourness whenever Joe was around particularly when you guys were racing on home turf where all of your friends came from.

"Joe baby, can you grab my helmet for me?" you asked him politely as you struggled getting all your wispy bits of hair tucked fully into your balaclava. However, he was scrolling on his phone, not listening to the request at hand.

"Here you go, at least I listen... unlike some of us" Max frowned looking directly at Joe to see even if that would get a reaction form him, which it did.

"Oh I'm sorry love. It's so loud in these garages! Here let me put it on for you. You know I like doing that!" he smiles at you placing his phone in his pocket and looking towards you.

"Thank you for grabbing it Max!" you smile at your team-mate before handing it to Joe. He makes sure your braid is in the best position before slipping it onto your head and kissing the top of you helmet. He kept looking over at Max the whole time.

He'd always been a little suspicious of Max's intentions towards his girlfriend, even before the move to become his team-mate and now that they shared a garage it was ten times worse.

He was constantly worried he was loosing you and the more you focused on your sport the more you would be prey to Max's advances and he'd win you over which Joe didn't want at all.

Joe loved you and he always would which is what hurt so much about the distance created between you two.

"Good luck in the race baby. i love you so much and your gonna do great!" he smiles down at you.

You give him a hug before running off to the garage where they would roll your car out onto track ahead of the formation lap.

You won that race, you and Max had a tense race constantly taking over one another while defending together from Lando who was in P3 until the last two laps where you got the upper hand and pushed in front despite being on the older tires.

Come the next race weekend you and Joe had probably had one of your most spiteful arguments to date.

"No, because why is it always me making the travel?" he had asked you.

"Because you play in just America baby. I drive round the world and it fucks me up with all the time difference changes espeically if I'm doing the Middle East back to you or Australia back to you" you try to explain but you could tell he was getting more frustrated with everything yoy said.

"Look, I love you, and you know I do. But right now I feel like I'm the only one making the effort!" he sighs rubbing his head.

"How can you say that?" you gasped in horror thinking of all the things you had sacrificed to try and make this work.

"It's always me coming to see you, you're never home anymore. I see your parents more than you do. All our friends miss you but your out here playing happy driver?" he chides throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"You know The States haven't been my home in a while Joe. How dare you fucking say this when you're the one who gave up on us first! I fought for us but YOU said you couldn't do this distance. Then when it got to much you came crawling back begging for my forgiveness..." you said raising your voice.

"It's just not fair when I'm making all these sacrifices for you and I see nothing in return!" he exclaims looking at you as you stood up to go get a glass of water.

"How is it just you making sacrifices! I declined my first shot in a RedBull seat for you and they gave it to Checo! I'm lucky they asked me a second time to replace him! Not many other people would have had that offer. I send you money to help pay for the house because I chose to move out! I've left the race track without doing media duties so i can catch a 15 hour direct flight just to come see you, yet I don't do enough?" you yell at him.

"Y/N please let's not argue. You know I love you and I'd do anything for you, for us please!" he cries looking at you his eyes a little glassy from the argument.

"No! I've been so stressed these path months and you keep telling me, it's fine, its going to be fine, we're going to be fine, this bad patch will pass soon, when all i wanted was you to comfort me and hug me and tell me it's okay to feel that way not try and dismiss my feelings!" you scream at him and he looks at you in shock.

After that it was like something possessed both of you to say what you both hated about the other which when you looked at it after they were actually all the things you loved about him because they were what made him, well him the man you fell in love with.

However, it was such a bad breakup that Joe was once again spotted in a night club. He'd text you the next morning apologizing saying he didn't mean any of it and it was just all a really big mistake.

You'd spent the day crying in your drivers room before the start of FP1. You felt so alone and like you couldn't talk to anyone.

"Y/N?" you heard the soft Dutch accent ask from the other side of the door. You held your sobs in and waited until it sounded like Max had left before you let a jagged breath out.

"Y/N, let me come in" you hear Max as making you get up and unlock the little bolt on the door.

"Are you-" he asks before he can fully look at you. You go back to the sofa and curl up into the ball you were in before he got there.

"Oh Schat, come here" he says as he takes a seat next to you with his arms open.

"I don't know what to do!" you cried into him while he played with your hair and rubbed your back comfortingly.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself" he sighs pulling your chin up and looking you in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" you ask cocking your head to the side.

"This on and off toxic, viscous circle with Joe. It's not healthy and you only ever make yourself upset" he sighs, pulling some hair behind your ear.

"I don't know..." you sigh, thinking about all of it.

"Maybe I can help" he smiles. In Max's mind this may be the only chance he gets to admit his feeling for you, to you. And he wasn't going to waste that opportunity no matter the potential out come.

He leaned in and pulled you in for a kiss, you kissed back shocked what was going on. And eventually molded into it until a voice in the back of you head reminded you of how much you loved Joe even if you were broken up.

"Max no s-stop!" you mumble as you push him back and when you look over your team-mate he looks heartbroken.

You sit there for a second, kissing Max was so different to kissing Joe. Kissing Joe was familiar and comforting and full of love and the kindness that was Joe Burrow. But kissing Max was passionate, impulsive and a different kind of affection. Something new. And you couldn't put your finger on why Max made you feel like that from something as simple as a kiss.

You wanted to try it again.

So you leaned in, pulling his jaw closer to you until your lips met and the kiss was aggressive and both of you were fighting for more power. Just like you did on track.

But again, you pulled away a little voice at the back of your mind telling you this isn't something you should be pursuing as Joe will come back and apologize for the argument. Just like he always did.

"I-I'm confused ..." you say tears welling in your eyes. As you look over at Max.

"You need to leave!" you say immediately pushing him out the room and locking the door.

You stood there, not knowing what you were feeling or what to even think.

The only thing on your mind is that you were hopelessly stuck in between two boys and your stuck feeling for one of them, whilst growing feeling for the other.

Taglist:

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 2 months

Text

You're my emergency contact.

König x reader.

Everything started with a simple favor and it all ended with your emergency contact accidentally attending your call.

(Give a ♥️ if you enjoyed it)

Warning: perhaps it is a very long and not good story, mentions of violence, as always grammatical and spelling errors.

You're König's neighbor, he's rarely at home so he asked you to keep an eye on his apartment, he gave you his number, just in case something happened.

- Danke, I Know I'm asking too much but I will give you my number, just... In case something happens, ja?

Your smile when he gives you his number In a piece of paper, he will never recover from that moment.

- For sure, it's not a problem, and thank you König I hope there's no need to use it for an emergency, I would prefer to use it in other circumstances.

-Ja, totally agree, well I have to go, thank you so much Schatz.

- Okay, have a nice trip König, see you!.

As soon as he left and you closed the door you started to jump with excitement, you finally had his number, you tried so hard for the last months to start a friendship with him and this is a big step for you.

But... What's next? You thought. After a few days you got an idea, you sent him a message.

«Hi König, I'm your neighbor, I forgot to give you my number, so here it is.»

An hour passed, two hours, four... Maybe it was a bad idea, then.

«Danke :D»

That's all? Well, at least he texted you back. You decided to not insist, maybe he was busy, another week passed, you really want to text him, why? Why do you want to be around him?

«captain's log: König's house is still safe, a package arrived at your door. :)»

You sent a selfie out of his door. A Risky move, you were getting nervous when you saw «seen» under the message.

«Hallo Schatz, danke for the notice, can you save the package at your house?, I'll pick it up when I arrive» «P.S. you look very pretty today ;)»

That was the beginning, for months you started to text each other. You send a lot of pictures about anything while he rarely sends you something, usually sunsets or just the sky. When he's at home you invite him to eat at your house or to drink a beer, you don't know yet but for König this is more than he expected, you and him are good together, jokes, loud laughs and a good conversation are always present when you're together, he's happy, he feels better with you, he feels affection for you.

- Well, this week I won't be at home for a few days, I hope you don't mind.

- What? Nein! Don't worry, I won't be at home either, I have some work, just a few days.

- ahh well maybe we will arrive home at the same time!

- ja! It would be a coincidence, a good one. Where will you go?

- Oh, my Mom's house, I'll visit her for a few days, my flight is this Wednesday, and I'll be back on Monday.

- Ah that's really nice, I hope you have a nice moment with her.

(...)

You're ready to take your flight, you were just waiting, when a group of armed men appeared.

- okay everybody, lay on the floor! We will not harm you if you obey!

Some people started to run, others screamed, the sound of shotguns...

The same man was shooting, while the rest of his companions were capturing people, you were on the floor, you took your phone and pressed the quick "emergency button" an old app your mother made you download just in case you needed, you knew it was useless because you and your mother lived far from each other, but after König gave you his number you added him on the emergency contacts list.

König was on his way to a mission when he Received a text. Your app sent a message with your location, an audio and a short video of what the camera phone could record, in those 15 seconds a man was yelling at you and others.

He opened it and saw that your location was the same as where he was going, he froze when he saw you were a hostage, the biggest fear, rage and desire to protect you grew inside him.

He and his team arrived, but they couldn't access the place easily, every door had a bomb, they didn't know if those were real or false but they couldn't take the risk, they started to plan and work.

You and the other hostages were on the floor, the group of men were kicking, yelling and hitting you, one of them was enjoying hurting you, taller than you and corpulent, you couldn't do much to protect yourself, he made you stand up pulling you by the hair, you yelped and asked him to stop.

- Sit this one in that chair, we're going to start the show.

You were sitting, you looked like a scared puppy, why you? What will they do to you? Why are they doing all this? What they want?. One of the men started to record everything, while another was talking and showing a photograph of a criminal.

- (...) Yeah, so we have hostages here, innocent people who are in serious danger, if you don't let this man free, we will start to torture and kill everybody in this place, we have bombs everywhere, don't be stupid and don't try to send cops or any kind of shitty government deal maker, those are our conditions.

Both men walked to you, while the guy who initially selected you to be tortured was ready to play his twisted game, he made you stand up from that chair.

- This pretty one is the first, we need an answer in 15 min or this one will be dead soon. Let's start...

You looked at all of them, scared, begging them to not do it, a knife cutting deep your thighs, a punch on your eye, your nose and mouth were bleeding, your ribs broken, you were crying, yelling because of the pain, one of them was ready to stab you when a big man dressed in black shoot at him, a clean headshot, you fell on the floor while all the men started to run, shoot and fight, you saw more people in black joining to the fight, you can't focus your view, you can't see clearly, you're fainting, you saw this big guy approaching, you can't see his face, he's wearing a black mask or something, he's talking to you but you can't hear him well.

- Schatz! Look at me, stay with us! Do you hear me?

Schatz? You remember that word, but... Where? Who? You're exhausted, your body aches, you're probably hallucinating.

«Hey! Prepare an ambulance!» you hear him yell at someone else then he carried you in his arms, this strange blurry guy in black saved you, you rested your head in his chest, you're feeling sleepy.

- Schatz, Mein Liebling, stay awake, I'm taking you to the ambulance, you will be fine, ja?

You didn't listen to him anymore, you closed your eyes, you just had flashbacks of the trip In the ambulance but that was all.

After two days you finally opened your eyes. There's a white lamp in the ceiling, the smell of medicine and sickness, a hospital? Were you alive?

You tried to sit but the pain in your ribs prevented you and a familiar voice filled the silence of the room.

- Hey, easy Schatz, you're fine, you're in the hospital.

There he was, König was in a chair close to you, he looked tired, and... Was he wearing black? What's going on?

- König? What... What's going on? What happened? Why are you here, what happened with your job?

He just let a small laugh out and handed you a glass of water.

- too many questions, drink some water first please, ja? You are in the hospital because you were hurt after the airport attack, I'm here because apparently I'm one of your emergency contacts... Schatz, Do you remember what happened in the airport?

You looked at him carefully, his voice, his clothes, and that word, «Schatz». Was he the one who saved you?

- I remember I was waiting to board the plane when those men appeared, then I... Well... You're my emergency contact, so I sent the emergency text, I remember those men hitting and hurting me and I remember the man who saved me, you probably will think I'm crazy but... That man looked pretty much like you... But he was covering his face with a mask or something.

He smiled nervously at you and hid his face with his hands.

- Was it you könig?

He looked at you once again and nodded in silence, the surprise in your face made him more nervous, he never told you about his job but you weren't expecting to find it out in this way.

- You never told me about your job...

You were playing with your hands and the glass, he was looking at his shoes, talking almost in a whisper.

- I can't talk about it... For your protection... And because it's better if you don't know how and who I am at work.

You don't want to make him feel as if you were angry or uncomfortable with it, you're just surprised, he looks too shy and kind to work in something like that.

- I understand... And I know it was really a coincidence and that you were just doing your job but... thanks for saving me.

He doesn't respond, he's still looking at his shoes. As if he was a little boy in trouble.

- König?

- Hmm?

- I won't ask you about your job, If you can't tell me about it, I'm fine with it... look at me Kö.

He finally looked at you, he looked sad or ashamed but you smiled at him and took his big hand on yours.

- Thank you for saving me. You're a good emergency contact.

You blinked your good eye at him, He smiled at you and kissed your hand.

- Just call and I'll be there Schatz.

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northernsiberiawinds · 11 months

Text

Thief.

Hi @nonvme how are you?

I usually solve such issues in personal messages with the authors to give them the opportunity to simply apologize and not repeat their mistakes, but this situation has upset me a lot, because I wrote to you in the comments a few months ago, but you never answered me (your private messages are closed).

You steal my textures and call it your own, as well as sell it on your patreon without any permission and credits.

Let's start from the beginning.

1. https://www.patreon.com/posts/sakira-skin-and-67386343

“credits: obscurus-sims, lamatisse, and google lol” — absolutely no mention of me, it's amazing, because it's almost entirely my texture.

“Do not claim as your own, I work way too hard to have somebody else try to claim my stuff“ — It's so nice to ask to respect your work when you don't respect someone else's.

Do I need to comment on something? She just took my skin n7, added a couple of details on face and called it her own. And she put it in early access on her patreon to make money on already free сс. She listed other authors in the credits and didn't mention anything about me.

2. https://www.patreon.com/posts/precious-skin-75050799

“Do not claim as your own, I work way too hard to have somebody else try to claim my stuff“ — and again. The duplicity of this man never ceases to amaze me.

Here she changed a bit more, but she used my skin's face as a base. And again, no mention of me in the credits.This time she didn't mention credits at all, but I see at least @obscurus-sims details.

“Credits to Slephora, Obscurus, and Pinterest for all respective bits and pieces” — okay.

And again, no difference. The textures are identical.

Honey, if a person wants to use my eyelids, he just uses it. There is no need to put my cc in early access again, which has been free for three years.

I want to say that I create my textures completely from scratch, without using EA blanks. Absolutely all the details on my skins are created by me. And as an artist, I can say with confidence that it is impossible to create a texture that will match someone else's pixel by pixel. It's impossible. Moreover, most of my textures are completely drawn by me. What refs from the Internet is she talking about? Did you take refs out of my head? By Bluetooth?

@nonvme you can still apologize and I won't hold a grudge against you. Just apologize and remove my textures from your page. If you had answered me a few months ago and corrected your mistakes, then I would not have written this post and would not have spoiled your reputation. But you didn't answer me.

I'm sorry that you all had to read so much text. I hope your day is going much better than mine.

P.S. I had to re-post to remove some 18+ pieces from the skins.

UPD 15/06/23

Guys! Thank you so much for all your words of support! This is really very important to me. I didn't even expect you all to support me so much. I don't have enough words to express my gratitude to all of you 😢❤️!!!

Nonvme deleted CC that included my textures, and also promised not to use it anymore. It's enough for me to forget about this incident and don't contact patreon support.

I want to add that any author who makes his textures from scratch knows every pixel of his texture. The author of the original content will know if you have used his texture, even if you have somehow modified it. If you steal other people's textures and you haven't been caught yet, it only means that the author hasn't seen your page/cc yet, because he can't monitor the entire Internet. But one day he will find out about you, do not doubt.

#ts4 #s4cc #ts4cc #the sims 4 news

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ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (17-II/22)

Chapter summary: You up and left the night you found out about a bitter truth. And then you and Wanda come to an understanding on how to move forward.

Chapter B word count: 8.5k | Warnings: Angst, Smut, Profound Sadness | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: There's still angst ahead, be warned. This is my all time fave part to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did :) P.S. Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars is such an old and a bit overrated song, but I envisioned this part with this song.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Eighteen

Seventeen - Part Two

“Suspended?” Wanda repeats incredulously at your assistant. Her mind spins, thinking about the last several days when you've been mysteriously silent. Every call she's tried to make has gone straight to voicemail; every text she's sent is left unseen, hanging in the balance.

It feels like you've dropped off the face of the Earth, a sensation all too familiar to Wanda. It's like you've once again disappeared from her life without any warning, leaving her in a state of worry and confusion.

Her gaze falls back on your assistant, Martin, who just nods apathetically, his bony fingers carefully balancing a tray of coffee. His casual, nonchalant manner seems to strike a nerve with her, agitating her more than she'd like to admit.

“Sorry, Ms. Maximoff,” he says in a flat, apologetic voice, “She's not been around, hasn't been taking calls or replying to messages from our human resources.”

Wanda's eyes flicker from the reception desk to your office, her heart throbbing with concern and confusion. The glass pane of the office door merely reflects a distorted image of her, nothing of what it concealed inside. “But she's the boss here…” she lamely objects, her voice trailing off.

“Yes, and she suspended herself, apparently,” he replies, shrugging. “In essence, she's on a sabbatical, if you prefer.”

“Did… Did she inform you or anyone here why?” she manages to ask, trying desperately to figure out something–anything.

Martin sighs, placing the trays on his unruly desk. “Wish I knew, really. But she left with only two words 'personal reasons'. That's all we got.”

Wanda stands frozen, questions swirling in her mind, none finding an outlet. Her eyes moisten, and she swallows hard, her worry for you amplifying every second. She scans the room one more time, a futile effort to find answers.

“The last time I saw her,” he starts, his voice breaking her trance, “She seemed...off. Like she was wrestling with something. Something big.”

Her heart lurches. The last time your career was put on hold was when the two of you had to navigate through the tangled mess of divorce proceedings. If even your assistant has noticed that something was amiss, it must mean that whatever you're going through is truly serious, enough to have disrupted your usually composed work life.

“If she calls in, could you let her know that I came by? And that I need to speak to her urgently?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

Martin nods, his face softening for the first time. “I will. And if I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

With a sigh of resignation, Wanda hands him her card and manages a small, tight-lipped smile as a parting gesture.

Yes, you've disappeared on her before, but this time it feels different–a gnawing worry eating at her gut that she can't ignore. She knows it's not like you to abandon your responsibilities, not without a strong reason. You no longer have Natasha–or Yelena, for that matter–to turn to which makes it all the worse.

She needs to find you.

***

“She’s not home,” the words ring out, echoing in the grandiose lobby of your apartment building.

The statement is identical to the one she had been fed two days prior.

“Can I go up to the apartment?” she implores, searching for an excuse for them to let her in. “I... I left my purse there.”

But the concierge, rigid in his protocols, shakes his head. “I'm sorry, Miss. Without the tenant present or without their explicit permission, I can't let you in.”

You're not at your office. Not at your apartment. Your absence is a gaping void, pulling her to the brink of panic.

“But you don't understand,” she retorts, her voice stronger now, her fear manifesting as assertiveness. “I need to find her. No one has seen her in the recent week, and she's not answering her phone. I need to...I need to make sure she's okay.”

“Rest assured, she’s fine. She recently got in touch with us about the utility bills,” he assuages.

But it does nothing to quell her rising anxiety. Sure, you might have called about the utility bills, but that was a routine chore, something that could be done from anywhere, even automated. It didn't necessarily mean you were okay.

Wanda sighs, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing headache brewing there.

“Did she say anything else?” she asks, desperation tinting her words. “Anything at all that might indicate where she is?”

He shakes his head, his expression distant and almost uncaring. “That was all.”

Her shoulders slump, her heart heavy, but her resolve unwavering. If she had to overturn every stone in the city, knock on every door, she would. She needs to know that you're safe.

Because even if the world believes you're okay, she knows better.

She knows you.

Later, that very same night, Wanda finds herself pacing restlessly in her living room like a caged animal. The worn floorboards creak under her weight as she tirelessly traces the same path over and over, her mind swirling, imagining the worst.

In her desperation, an idea occurs to her.

Natasha.

Their last conversation had been a little more than a week ago, but it had been far from pleasant. Accusations and blame were tossed around like grenades, and Natasha had left with a bitter parting shot.

She glances at the old wall clock. Late. Very late. But time has lost its meaning to her lately. It's been nothing but a constant reminder of your absence, every ticking second a chime of worry.

Chewing on her lower lip, she finally makes up her mind. She picks up her phone, her fingers trembling as they navigate to a contact she hasn't dialed in ages. She stares at the screen for a moment, then pushes the call button.

The dial tone drones in her ear. She waits, each ring echoing the magnitude of her worry. She needs to find you. And for that, she needs Natasha to pick up.

Wanda's breath catches in her throat as she waits, clutching the phone with trembling hands. The apartment feels still and silent, the only noise is that persistent, mocking ring.

Just when she's about to end the call, the dial tone stops. A beat of silence, then–

“Wanda?” Natasha's voice is clipped, cold even, but Wanda can't help but feel a surge of relief at hearing it.

“Natasha,” she breathes, her voice cracking. “I need your help.”

There's a pause on the other end, long enough for Wanda to feel a pang of doubt. She can almost see Natasha's face, the guarded expression that's become her default since the fallout.

“Why should I help you?” Natasha finally asks, her voice devoid of warmth.

“Because it's about her,” Wanda replies, her words tumbling out in a rush. “She's missing, Natasha. She's not at her apartment, not at work, and she's not answering her phone. I've tried everything. You're… you’re my last hope. Please.”

There's a long silence on the other end, the tension so thick she can almost taste it. Wanda can feel her heart in her throat as she waits, hoping against hope that Natasha will put aside their differences, their painful history, and help her find you.

Then, Natasha sighs, a sound that's both vexed and resigned. “Give me a few hours, Wanda,” she says finally, her voice laced with reluctance. “I'll see what I can find.”

Wanda manages a small, grateful nod, even though Natasha can't see it. “Thank you. I–I'll wait.”

The line goes dead, leaving Wanda with her worry and the late-night silence of her apartment. She drops onto the worn-out couch, her eyes fixed on her silent phone, her mind filled with thoughts of you.

But it turns out, she doesn't have to wait long. Five minutes later, her phone vibrates on the coffee table, startling her. Picking it up, she sees Natasha's name flashing on the screen.

That was peculiarly fast.

She answers it, her heart pounding.

“Why didn't you call her mother?” Natasha's voice is sharp, impatient.

Wanda blinks, visibly thrown off. “Her...her mother?”

“Yes, Wanda. Her mother!” Natasha sounds incredulous, exasperated. “She's in Montauk. She's been there for the past week. Her mother just confirmed it.”

Wanda's heart drops, a mix of relief and shame washing over her. She hadn't thought of calling your mother. In fact, she's been avoiding the idea altogether.

“I...I didn't call her because... because she blocked me,” Wanda admits in a small voice. “After she found out about my infidelity, she blocked me.”

There's a pause on the other end, followed by a deep sigh. “Well, now you know,” Natasha says, a hint of softness creeping into her voice. “She's in Montauk.”

With that, the call ends. Wanda is left staring at her phone.

She wastes no time buying train tickets for the following day.

***

Years have passed since Wanda last tread the well-worn path leading to your childhood home.

The once vibrant paint now peels and fades, no recent attempts at refurbishment have been made, and yet, it retains a charm that's impossible to overlook. Sitting all by itself on the beach, it's about the most peaceful spot Wanda's ever known.

She's always loved coming to your place in Montauk, even though she's acutely aware that your mother's affections for her have always been less than warm. But as she stands there now, the salty sea breeze tugging at her hair, she looks up in awe.

Her gaze is drawn to the attic window–your old bedroom. She imagines you might be there. She wonders if you're asleep, tucked away in a corner where your bed is and always will be. She thinks about what you might be dreaming of. Are they good dreams? Or the kind that makes you wake up in a cold sweat? The thought of you being troubled, even in sleep, makes her heart ache.

She wishes she could be up there with you, could slide into the room and sit down next to you. She'd love nothing more than to reach out and touch you, to pull you close and wrap you in her arms. She'd whisper in your ear, tell you that everything's going to be okay. “I'm here,” she'd say. “And I'm not going anywhere, not unless you want me to.”

But for now, she's stuck at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at that attic window. So with a sigh, she tears her gaze away, and turns back to the front steps. Eventually, her feet lead her to them, but she pauses, a knot of nerves twisting in her stomach. This isn't like the other times she's visited. There won't be a warm welcome from you, just the cold, guarded reception from your mother.

Taking a deep breath, she squares her shoulders and climbs the steps, her hand hesitating briefly over the door knocker. For a moment, she's tempted to turn back, to avoid the frosty confrontation. But she knows she can't. She's here for a reason.

The lingering echo of the knock seems to hang in the air before it's swallowed up by the constant rhythm of the sea. Then, the soft sound of footsteps resonates from within. Her pulse quickens in response. Fixing her eyes forward and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she readies herself for the encounter.

As the door creaks open, the familiar face of your mother appears. But her expression isn't the stern, guarded look Wanda has come to expect. Instead, her eyes hold a sense of knowing, as if your mother has been expecting her for a while now.

Wanda’s well-rehearsed words hang in her throat, momentarily lost amidst the surprise. But she quickly regains her composure, preparing to speak, when your mother breaks the silence.

“Took you long enough,” she says, her voice softer than Wanda remembers. “Come inside, dear.”

Taken aback, Wanda can only nod. She smiles politely at her in return as she steps across the threshold.

Soon enough, Wanda finds herself seated at the worn kitchen table, as your mother moves with an ease born of years spent there, preparing an early dinner. The scent of food simmering stirs the air, joining the comforting aroma of tea brewing on the stove.

As she cooks, she fills Wanda in on what’s been going on with you lately.

“She's been upstairs, in her old room, for days now,” she shares, nodding towards the ceiling as if it would help Wanda see you. “Doesn't come out much. Sometimes I hear her... crying, then nothing. She won't talk to me, no matter how much I try.”

Her usually steady hands reveal a hint of tremor as she stirs a pot on the stove. “I'm scared,”she admits, making brief eye contact with Wanda.

“I've been thinking... maybe it's about you.” she adds after a moment.

She doesn't say it like she's blaming Wanda, more like she's just trying to make sense of things. It leaves Wanda silent, turning the possibility over in her mind.

The kettle whistles, breaking the heavy silence. Your mom pours the hot water into a teapot and then turns to Wanda. “Tea?” she asks, like this is just any normal day.

“I’d love some tea, thank you,” Wanda responds, giving a brief nod. She takes the warm mug offered to her, the heat seeping into her palms. Afterwhich, she reaches for the jar of honey and adds a dollop of it in her tea.

As your mom settles down across the table, an uncomfortable silence fills the kitchen. The only sounds are the soft humming of the fridge and the occasional clink of a spoon against a cup as your mom stirs her own tea.

They just sit there, silently looking at each other over the worn kitchen table. Wanda takes a sip from her mug, feeling the tea's heat spreading through her, a pleasant contrast to the chilly November air that's started to creep into the house.

Every sip, every moment of silence, makes Wanda more aware of the pressing need to apologize to your mother. She's hurt you, her own daughter, and if what your mom suggests is true, she may even be the reason you've up and left your life in Manhattan.

Finding the courage, Wanda finally speaks up, her voice shaky but sincere. “I understand this may not change anything,” she begins, “But I need to apologize... for the pain I've caused. For betraying your trust, and more importantly, for betraying Y/N's.”

She can feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes, but she forces them back. This isn't about her pain; it's about yours, and perhaps your mother's too.

“I wish I can go back,” Wanda admits, her eyes falling shut to keep her tears at bay. “And undo everything.”

She pauses, collecting her thoughts before continuing. “I’ve done a lot of self-reflection. I've looked into the mirror and didn't like the person staring back. I was... I am... deeply flawed. But I'm trying, I really am. I've started therapy, trying to understand and learn from my past mistakes.”

Wanda takes a deep breath before proceeding. “Your daughter...she deserves the world. And I know, in your eyes and perhaps even in my own, I don't deserve her. But what I'm asking, I guess, is not for you to forget or to absolve me. It's for another chance. A chance to prove that I can be better. That I can make things right with Y/N. I’m asking for your blessing, should it be possible for us to try again.”

After her heartfelt confession, your mother just quietly sips her tea, her gaze steady on Wanda. The silence is deafening, broken only by the regular ticking of the kitchen clock.

Wanda squirms under the silent scrutiny, but she doesn't look away. Instead, she meets your mother’s steady gaze, even if her own eyes are red and her vision is blurry.

“I… I know actions speak louder than words,” she adds quietly, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “And I'm ready to do whatever it takes, no matter how long it may be, to show you... to show Y/N, that I am capable of change, of being the person she deserves.”

Then, it's quiet again.

The silence stretches on, and just when Wanda thinks your mother might never respond, she sets her tea down and begins to speak. But it's not a direct answer to Wanda's plea. Instead, she starts to tell a story.

“You know, Y/N was always a deeply emotional child,” she begins, her voice soft and her eyes distant, lost in memories. “She had this incredible ability to love, to pour all of herself into someone or something. She trusted easily, loved fiercely.”

She pauses and takes a slow breath, her gaze turning sadder. “And because of that, she often got hurt. People took advantage of her kindness, her unwavering loyalty. They saw her love as something to exploit rather than treasure.”

Wanda blinks in surprise when your mother extends her hand, clasping hers firmly on the tabletop. The unexpected touch all but strikes a chord.

“She's been through a lot, Wanda. Her heart's been bruised more times than I care to count. But she still loves with all she has, still trusts, even when she's been betrayed,” she says. “As her mom, all I ever wanted was for Y/N to find genuine happiness.”

Tears well up in Wanda's eyes, spilling over and trailing down her cheeks in crooked streams. With her free hand, she wipes them away hastily, while her other hand clings to your mother's in a gesture of guilt and a plea for forgiveness.

Your mother waits for Wanda’s wracking sobs to subside, before she gently lets go of Wanda’s hand and then looks out the window, her eyes turning steely.

“I don’t doubt your sincerity,” she tells Wanda. “But what I need is to see that light in her eyes again, that joy she used to have. If you can help bring that back to her, then we can talk about forgiveness.”

Wanda can do nothing but nod as she accepts the challenge of the task.

Your mother slowly rises from her chair, gathering the empty mugs on the table. “I've prepared dinner for tonight,” she says. “You can serve it when you're both ready.”

Wanda looks up, her eyes reflecting her confusion, “You're not staying?”

With a soft smile, your mother shakes her head, “I'll give you two some space to talk and sort things out. I'll be staying with a friend tonight.”

The offer leaves Wanda momentarily stunned, but she recognizes the trust and faith your mother is placing in her. It's a responsibility she doesn't take lightly, and she nods, hastily pulling herself together.

“Thank you,” Wanda says, her voice soft. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

Your mother reaches out to touch Wanda's arm, her eyes filled with understanding.

“Just do right by her,” she says.

After your mother grabs her purse and car keys, she leaves, the door closing behind her with a quiet click.

Wanda is left standing in the empty house. She looks around thoughtfully, the smell of the cooked dinner still lingering in the open space. Then, her eyes stray upwards towards the attic. She can't help the nervous flutter in her stomach as she thinks about what awaits upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, she firms her stance and prepares herself to face you.

As Wanda navigates the familiar hallways of this house, she's assaulted by a flurry of memories.

Most vivid of all are the memories of your bedroom during your college years. That sacred space where you both had surrendered to your desires, the place where you both discovered each other in the most intimate ways. The countless nights when whispers and soft sighs were swallowed by the plush pillows, the sheets a tangled mess of sweat and evidences of pleasure.

Each memory, each recollection, sends a shiver down her spine. She remembers the taste of your lips, the softness of your skin, the way your eyes would darken with desire. She remembers the feel of your body against hers, the thrill of being the only one to see you unravel.

She remembers the way you’d moan out her name. The way your breath would hitch when she touched you, the way your fingers would trace patterns on her skin. The way you would look at her, as if she was the only one that mattered, the only one you saw.

Chiding herself, Wanda shakes her head, a blush coloring her cheeks as she catches her mind in the gutter. While she terribly misses you, aches to be with you, this isn’t about her longings or her desires.

No, this is about checking on you. It's about making sure you're alright and not alone. That's the priority, and it's what keeps her focused right now.

Moving towards your room, Wanda raises her fist to knock, but as her knuckles make contact, the door creaks open on its own accord. She freezes, the noise sounding overly loud in the deafening silence of the house.

The sight that greets her makes her breath hitch. There you are, asleep in your bed, your back to her. Curled up under your Star Wars covers, you seem so small, so vulnerable. A small smile pulls at the corners of Wanda's mouth, seeing you cocooned in remnants of your adolescence–the old covers, the posters lining the walls, the trophies gathering dust on the shelves. It’s endearing, and so quintessentially you.

Wanda carefully slips off her shoes, setting them neatly next to your own pair by the door. The room is quiet, save for the soft sound of your steady breathing. She doesn't want to disturb your peace, doesn't want to pull you from what seems to be a rare, restful sleep.

With cautious movements, she edges towards the bed, lifting the corner of the blanket. As silently as she can, she slips under them, feeling the familiar warmth they hold. She shuffles closer to you, wrapping her arms gently around you from behind. Your body is a comforting presence, the steady rhythm of your breathing lulling her own worries.

As if on cue, even in your sleep, you move closer to her. You shift backwards, snuggling into her arms as if your body remembers the familiarity of her presence.

Closing her eyes, Wanda allows herself to relax for the first time in days. The constant worry, the relentless anxiety of the past week begins to ebb away. Here, holding you, she finally allows herself to succumb to her own exhaustion.

A while later, beneath your lids, your eyes move restlessly. And like the recent days, it's the same nightmare that haunts you. Wanda, lying motionless in a hospital bed, a sight that sends cold tendrils of fear winding around your heart.

In your dream, you're a phantom, invisible and unheard. You're screaming, pleading, shouting for someone to hear you, to help her. But your voice, your presence, goes unnoticed. You watch helplessly as her heart rate dips, her once vibrant life draining away before your eyes. And then the dreadful flatline–

With a start, your eyes fly open. The world spins for a moment before settling down. In your sleep, you've moved so that Wanda now lays on your chest, sleeping soundly. Your arms are wrapped securely around her, a protective gesture that feels as natural as breathing.

As your eyes adjust back to reality, your mind doesn't quite catch up in time. For a moment, you believe this too is a dream. But in this one, Wanda is safe, wrapped snugly in your arms, far away from any harm. With gentle fingers, you start brushing through her soft hair, the familiar motion soothing. You find yourself slowly massaging her scalp, a habit from the good old days.

The gentle motion stirs Wanda, her eyes fluttering open to meet your startled gaze. As she squints up at you, drowsy and slightly confused, the pieces fall into place for you. This isn't some surreal dream.

Wanda is actually here, with you.

“W-What time is it?” Her question is barely a whisper, the words escaping her in a quiet, sleep-addled mumble.

Your response is a knee-jerk reaction, a surprise that compels you to pull away. But there's nowhere to retreat, no room to distance yourself from the reality before you. Trapped between Wanda and the wall, in the confined space of the single-sized bed, you have nowhere to go.

“W-Why…” you begin, your voice coming out raspy from sleep and shock. Your eyes dart around as if seeking an escape.

Before you can finish your sentence, Wanda’s hand reaches for yours, her fingers curling reassuringly around your wrist.

“Hey, it's me. You're okay,” she murmurs softly, but you remain tense, suspicious.

You don’t try to scramble further away, but you remain tense under her touch.

“Why are you here?” you finally manage to get out, your voice trembling slightly. “You shouldn't be here. You need to go.”

Wanda looks jolted at your words, her eyebrows shooting up. “Go?” she echoes, incredulity seeping into her tone. “Why would I go? You've been missing for days. I've been worried sick.”

Your heart aches at the crack in her voice, a clear indication of her sleepless nights, but the need to protect Wanda from you overpowers your sympathy.

“I can't...I can't tell you why,” you stammer out, hugging your knees to your chest, using them as a barrier between you and her.

Wanda's grip tightens around your wrist. “Why not?” she insists, her voice laced with frustration. “You can't just disappear and expect me to leave when I finally find you.”

“Because you’re not safe,” you say, avoiding her eyes.

“But why?” She pushes, her voice shaking with worry. “What do you mean I'm not safe?”

You struggle to find the right words, your throat dry. “You just... you just aren't, Wanda. Please, just leave.”

Her eyebrows pull together as she stares at you, as she searches your face for some explanation. Then, a name flickers across her expression, and her body goes rigid.

Pietro.

Shit.

What did he do?

“Y/N?” Wanda utters slowly. “Did you… Did you find out about my–”

“Yes,” you cut her off. Not wanting to hear from Wanda herself what–

What you’ve put her through.

The memory of the hospital report you secured after you found out, the graphic details of the picture that was sent to you—they've been haunting your nightmares for days.

Your hand slips out of hers as you awkwardly sit up, pressing your back against the unyielding concrete with a wince of discomfort. Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide and her lips parted, as if she's just now realizing the gravity of what you’ve been really dealing with.

“I found out, Wanda. About the pills,” you say quietly, your voice shaking. “The night I left...you overdosed. And I–I didn't even know.” You run a hand through your hair, frustration and guilt making you feel sick.

“That's why you can't be here, Wanda. That's why you have to leave. Because I can't... I can't be the cause of your pain anymore.”

Wanda looks at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, then, as if a switch is flipped, her expression crumbles.

Despite all the tears she's already shed over the past week, she finds that she's not done yet. She's cried so much she thought she had nothing left, but there's always more when it comes to the pain you're both in.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells you firmly. She says it like she's trying to drill it into your head, her jaw set, teeth clenched. She wants you to believe her. She needs you to believe her.

It's not your fault.

The dam holding back your own tears finally gives way. “How can you say that, Wanda?” you choke out, your voice shaking as much as you are. “I have proof that I almost killed you!”

But Wanda just shakes her head, stubborn as always. She won't accept what you're saying, won't see the truth of the matter. And so, you switch tactics.

“Why are you still here, Wanda?” you ask, your voice suddenly cold. “Why are you still looking for me? Why do you act like you still...care? Is it guilt? You cheated on me and now you're stuck with me out of pity? Do you pity me because you got the good side of this mess?”

Your words hang heavy in the silence that follows. Wanda just blinks at you, her eyes wide and shock clearly etched on her face. She pulls back slightly, her face flushing with a mix of hurt and anger.

“You think I pity you?" she whispers, her voice shaking with the intensity of her emotions. “You think this is guilt?”

But before you can answer, she's already shaking her head, her eyes filling with tears again. “No, you're wrong. It’s not pity, it’s not guilt. It’s...it’s…”

Her voice breaks off as she clutches the fabric of your shirt in her fists. “It’s because I love you, you idiot,” she finally admits, her confession plunging the dagger further into your beating heart. “Despite what they say…despite all of it, I still love you.”

It's raw and painful and beautiful all at once, but it also scares you more than anything. Because if Wanda still loves you, despite everything that's happened, then you're going to have to fight even harder to protect her from yourself.

“Wanda, I…” you try to protest, to explain, to push her away, but your words die in your throat when she suddenly crashes her lips onto yours. It's fierce and demanding, full of so many unsaid words and bottled-up emotions.

Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer while one of her hands finds its way to your hair, holding you in place. She's practically clinging onto you, as if she's afraid you'll disappear again.

Your initial shock fades away as the kiss deepens. You melt into her, your resistance collapsing. Your arms instinctively go around her waist, pulling her closer until there's no space left between you.

Everything narrows down to the sensation of her lips moving against yours. The kiss is intoxicating and it's not long before you find yourself giving in, the guilt and fear momentarily forgotten.

What you’ve put her through.

But the words flash behind your eyes again. You can't help but question if this, the intoxicating sensation of being with Wanda Maximoff, can absolve you of it all.

Your thoughts whirl, but Wanda seems to know exactly what you need. She breaks away just enough to capture your hands, bringing them to her flushed cheeks.

And then, with her eyes closed, trusting, she whispers, “You’re not hurting me, Y/N.” Your hands tremble as they stay on her face, moving cautiously, as if she's a fragile piece of glass that might shatter under your touch.

When Wanda opens her eyes, you're struck by their clarity, their luminosity. “See?” she whispers. “All I feel is how much you love me. I–I know you do…”

In the next beat, she's guiding your hands lower, slipping them beneath her shirt to rest against the warm skin of her waist. Without thinking, your fingers begin to move, massaging the soft dips of her stomach, tracing the familiar curves and lines of a body you've known and cherished for years.

“All I feel is your warmth. Your tenderness,” she murmurs, a slight catch in her breath as your hands start to move upwards, brushing aside her bra to gently cradle her breast. “Your desire. Your love that nurtures me, makes me thrive,” she finishes, a small gasp escaping her as she feels herself responding to your touch, her nipples hardening against your palm.

“So, please, Y/N,” she cries desperately as you wordlessly make quick work of removing her shirt and bra. “Please don’t make me go. I need you.”

It's hard to resist her, especially when she looks at you with such pleading eyes. You’ve always had a difficult time saying no to Wanda, and this moment is no different.

After shedding your own shirt, you pull her close, the skin-on-skin contact sending sparks through your veins. For a moment, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, tangled together in a cocoon of your own making.

Your resolve wavers, then collapses. You can't deny her, not now, not ever.

Taking a deep breath, you lean in to press your forehead against hers. “I want to make you feel good,” you say, and before Wanda can utter her agreement, you press your lips against her delicately.

The kiss is slow and tender, a gentle exploration rather than a heated demand. It's a promise, a vow to take your time and be mindful of her needs. You want to make up for all the hurt you've caused her, and this is where you'll start.

Without breaking the kiss, you carefully guide back down on the bed. Your fingers dance over the button of her jeans and when you can't proceed without breaking the kiss, you do so reluctantly. Wanda lets out a soft whine at the loss of contact, her impatience showing as she moves her hips to aid you in removing her pants. Once she’s left in just her underwear, you take a moment to appreciate the sight before you.

Wanda, naked in your teenage bed, her skin flushed and her thighs pulled together to relieve the delicious ache in between them. And your instinct is to worship every inch of her until she’s calling out to another higher power in the midst of your care.

Growing restless, Wanda eases herself off the bed, just enough to clasp the nape of your neck, drawing you back to another sweet entanglement of her lips.

This time, you get lost in the moment, letting your tongue outline the shape of her mouth, tasting the mix of her salty tears and the sweet remnants of her honeyed tea. You leisurely familiarize yourself with her, navigating the familiar paths inside her mouth, until the top of your thigh accidentally bumps into her clothed center.

The sudden touch makes Wanda gasp. Her head rolls back, her eyes tightly closed, and you press into her again–harder. You watch as her mouth forms the perfect 'o,' each quick, sharp puffs matching the rhythm you’ve now set with your hips. Your hand trails down from the nape of her neck, across the delicate expanse of her shoulders, before settling on her waist, using it as a leverage to drive harder into her.

“Y/N–P-Please…” Wanda's plea hangs in the thick air between you two. She doesn't know exactly what she's asking for, only that she'll lose her mind if you don't act soon.

Knowing what she needs, you push her thighs apart and lift them towards herself, until her knees are almost touching her shoulders. Grabbing her bottom, you tilt her hips slightly upwards, slotting your thigh directly over Wanda’s cunt.

And then, without warning, you lower down to start driving your leg into her soaked core.

“Baby, what are you–oh, fuck!” Wanda can't hold back the scream that's torn from her throat.

Your fingernails dig sharply into her ass as you encourage her to fuck your leg. Your arms are working hard, holding up the lower half of Wanda's body at the precise angle you need. You duck your head to suck on the hollow of her throat, making Wanda squirm as she encircles her arms around your shoulders, keeping you in place.

While you continue to maintain your rhythm, her slippery underwear—the lone piece of clothing she still has on–becomes too drenched that they slide right into and get stuck between her pussy lips, the folds of the fabric adding a pleasurable friction to her clit. At this moment, you decide to let your mouth venture further down her torso until it finds a hardened peak, and you waste no time immediately nursing on her teat.

In a matter of seconds, Wanda feels the familiar coil in her belly. Her escalating cries, coming in sharp bursts, echo in your ear, a clear indication of the inevitable. She wraps her legs around your waist as her breathing becomes more frantic, encouraging you to plough into her mercilessly. On the next thrust, your hand releases its grip on one of her buttocks to push her panties aside and pump two fingers into her without preamble, before switching your mouth to her other nipple, giving it the same furious attention.

“Fuck, I’m–nnnghh!” Wanda yelps, and all it takes is one more slam of your hips before Wanda's entire body stiffens, her back arching into a perfect bow. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from closing your teeth around her areola as you feel her continue to buck against you, riding the final waves of her high.

Moments later, you finally let go of her nipple with a wet pop when she weakly tugs at the back of your head, and you gently lap at the reddened area, tending to it with soft kitten licks. Once you’re satisfied, you climb back up to softly kiss Wanda’s closed eyelids, feeling her body slacken in your hold as she slowly recovers from her orgasm.

You continue to sprinkle a few more kisses randomly across her face, until her giggles ripple through you, the sound of her laughter chiming like bells in your ears.

“Good?” you ask while still inside her, your other hand caressing the curve of her cheek as you gaze into her eyes, ensuring she's completely comfortable in every way.

Wanda bites her lip and nods, a blush coloring her cheeks as she basks in the intense attention you're showering her with and the weak, come-hither motion of your fingers still inside her.

“Good,” you say with a soft smile, and then Wanda’s breath catches as your eyes darken once more, pulling your fingers out of her carefully before licking them clean. “Because now I want to taste you.”

“But you haven’t–”

“This is what I want,” you calmly assure her. In reality, you want a number of things. You want to apologize to her. You want to feel that she’s there with you. That she’s alive, even if she’s a puppet on a string, at the mercy of your mouth and fingers.

You want to erase the image seared into your mind of Wanda, lifeless and cold.

Wanda smiles at you, and you respond by leaning in to give her a gentle kiss, a silent promise that it’s not because you’re merely rejecting her touch. What you really want is to love her right now, and perhaps see her let go and lose herself in the moment.

Slowly, you start to trail kisses down her stomach, stopping just above her navel to playfully swirl your tongue within it, eliciting a reaction from Wanda as she arches her body upwards, offering herself to you. As you continue, your hands glide her underwear down her legs, before casually discarding it somewhere behind you.

Instantly, her scent fills your nostrils, making your mouth water. You fight the urge to dive right in, not wanting all of this to end too soon. You follow the smell of her arousal to its source, your nose skimming over the area above her pubic bone, the apex of her thighs, anywhere but where Wanda’s gushing out in need.

Wanda feels an urge to beg you to stop teasing, but she understands that's not what you're doing. She recognizes why you're taking your time, even though the deliberate pace is making her grow more frustrated by the second.

As for you, emotions well up inside as you discern that Wanda is surrendering to you, reminding you of your ability to make her feel good, to make her happy, and it's taking all your strength not to crumble and break down in front of her.

Even amid the heavy fog of desire, Wanda experiences a rush of gentle affection when she feels your fingers intertwining with hers, providing her a comforting squeeze. But Wanda should have taken that as her warning, when in a split second, she feels your tongue dart out to taste the length of her.

Wanda's head lolls to the side, her eyes tightly closed. She hadn't anticipated that the buildup would be this intense, that such a simple move would drive her crazier than usual. She whimpers as you lick her languidly, almost reverently, as if you’re memorizing her taste and every crease and every sound your tongue elicits.

This time, when Wanda reaches her climax, it's more than just the physical sensations pushing her over the edge.

It's your smile that she feels brushing her dewy skin, it's the hums of approval you're voicing, it's the way your eyes lock with hers, absorbing her every reaction, in sync with her sensations and emotions.

The way you’d rest your head on her stomach while catching your breath.

Much like how it was when loving her was something you were so proud of.

As midnight approaches, you finally give in to Wanda's pleas for you to stop. She's come more times tonight than ever before in her life, and with her stomach growling in hunger, all she can think about is the beef stew your mother left in the kitchen for both of you.

She extracts her tired body from your secure hold, and dresses herself in comfortable silence, while you sit on your bed, confused and not knowing what to do with yourself now that you’ve accomplished your mission of making Wanda come a record-breaking six times.

Wanda stretches languidly, much like a cat, her bones making small popping sounds that draw a soft moan from her. She then tells you that she'll warm up the dinner you were meant to have and bring it back up to eat in the room.

As she makes her way to the kitchen, the rich, comforting aroma of the beef stew your mother had prepared earlier that evening wafts into the hallway, causing her stomach to complain louder.

Approaching the stove, she finds the pot still sitting there, the stew inside cooled. She turns on the burner underneath, and waits for it to heat up. All the while, her thoughts continue to race. She wonders if giving herself to you tonight has somehow provided you with the comfort you needed after finding out about her overdose on the night you left.

Did it reassure you to see her not just alive, but right there with you? Did the intimate connection help to ease any lingering fears or guilt from that night?

Once the stew has warmed enough, she ladles it into two bowls and carefully makes her way back up the stairs. As she nudges the bedroom door open with her foot, she's met with a sight that warms her heart. You're sitting there, now modestly dressed in a pair of pajamas, looking far more composed than when she'd first walked into your room earlier in the evening.

Your hair is neatly combed back, and the lines of worry that had marked your face earlier have faded, replaced with a serene expression.

However, your eyes tell a different story. Something significant has shifted, and she can't quite put her finger on what it is.

“Will you set those down for a moment? I need to tell you something,” you tell her, your voice eerily calm. It sends a ripple of unease through her, yet she does as you ask.

Quietly, Wanda places the bowls of hot stew on the nearby dresser. The comforting scent of the dish wafts through the room, yet her earlier hunger has been replaced by an uneasy feeling that ties her stomach in knots. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

You take a deep breath before you begin, as if you're preparing yourself as well for what you have to say.

“I… I'm not sure how to go about it, or even why I'm doing it, but... you should hear this,” you start off.

“Last week, I... I tried sleeping with a stranger because I wanted to understand, to put myself in your shoes,” you continue, not waiting for her response. Wanda is quiet as she listens to your confession, each word slicing through her like a blade.

“I wanted to feel... what it was like for you when you chose him. When you chose him over us, over what we had,” you say, your voice wavering slightly.

Wanda can hardly breathe. “Y/N…”

“I couldn't do it,” you blurt out, your words spilling over one another in your haste. “Even though technically, we aren’t together, I… I couldn’t be with someone else,” you say in a choked half-sob, half-laugh that pushes Wanda dangerously close to a fresh torrent of feelings.

Tears flow freely down your cheeks now, your nose sniffling from the congestion. You sniffle, struggling to draw in breaths through your mouth to compensate for the hindered airflow.

“How?” you force out the question, your voice filled with aching pain as you look at Wanda, your face contorted with sorrow. “How was it so easy for you?”

Wanda doesn't have an immediate answer to your question, instead, she just looks at you, her heart breaking with every sob that shakes your body.

“It wasn't... it wasn't easy,” she finally stammers out, her mind frantically revisiting the long weeks she spent with Calliope, trying to unpack her baggage and find something, anything, that might ease your pain. “Nothing about this has been easy, Y/N.”

But she knows it's not the answer you want.

“I wish I had a straightforward answer,” she starts, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I wish I had a valid reason... something. But I don't... I just... don't. You were–are–everything to me, Y/N. You’re patient, loving, caring. You deserved so much better.”

She can't justify her actions. She can't explain why she risked the one person who loved her unconditionally. And it's a different kind of torment, the understanding that there's no satisfying explanation, no logical reason for her betrayal.

“I don’t trust you,” you admit to Wanda, a deep sorrow seeping into your voice.

“Y/N, I…” Wanda starts, but you raise your hand to silence her.

“Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me,” you cut her off, your voice a broken whisper. “But every time I see you, every time I'm around you, it's like... it's like I'm back at square one,” you continue, your voice strained. “I don't know if I can ever trust you again, Wanda. And worse, I don't trust myself around you.”

Your gaze drops to your lap, where your hands are tightly knotted together, knuckles white with the effort.

“And I don't know if this feeling will ever stop,” you add, more to yourself than to her. “I'm just so tired of it all. Tired of feeling this way, tired of... going around in circles.”

Wanda swallows thickly, her throat constricted. Her heart feels like it's being ripped apart at the seams as she watches you, so vulnerable, so hurt. All because of her.

“I...I could never have done that to you.” you tell her with finality.

“I know,” she answers, her voice filled with an emotion so raw it makes your chest tighten. “I know you’d never do anything to hurt me like that. It's... it's unbearable, Y/N. But I... I'm so sorry. I want to try, if you're willing... I want to earn your trust and forgiveness.”

“I need to earn your trust back,” Wanda corrects herself quietly, cowering, expecting you to laugh in her face with how delusional she is for begging you the one thing that she already destroyed. “I know it won't be easy, and I don't even know if it's possible, but I have to try, Y/N. I can't... I can't lose you again without even trying.”

A part of you rebels at the idea, reminds you of all the reasons why you should harden your heart and walk away–for the sake of you both. Yet, another part, a larger part, doesn't want to. Despite the hurt and betrayal, despite the broken pieces, you still care for her.

You want to trust her again. You want to be in love in the purest sense.

(You’re already in love, you just want to stop questioning it.)

“I can’t promise you that it’ll be easy to deal with,” you warn her, your voice thick with sincerity. “I can't just... sweep all of this under the rug, Wanda.”

“I can handle that,” she replies with a soft smile, her voice full of certainty.

“Can you really?” you question, disbelief plain in your tone. “What if you blindside me again? What if I do something that would put you in harm’s way again?”

Wanda nods knowingly. “Which is why we can't do this by ourselves alone.”

“What do you suggest?” you ask curiously.

“That we seek professional help.” she says without hesitation.

“Professional help?” you repeat, slightly surprised. You hadn't considered this avenue, but the complexity of your situation seems to call for it.

Her practical approach impresses you, her willingness to explore different ways to mend things. The idea of exposing your deepest emotions to a stranger in a clinical setting is intimidating. But if Wanda is willing to do it, to unpack everything and lay it all out in the open like a defenseless soldier in a middle of a battlefield, then–

“Okay,” you say finally.

“Okay?” Wanda looks up at you with wide, expectant eyes, making her look so innocent like a child.

You nod, your lips curling into a tentative smile. “I guess… we could try.”

A watery smile flickers on Wanda's face as she carefully circles her arms around your neck. You reciprocate her hug, hesitant at first, but then with more confidence as you both meld back into each other. For a while, you simply sit there, clinging onto each other, until Wanda’s rumbling stomach shatters the moment.

Chuckles bubbling up, Wanda draws back from your hold and says, “Should we get to that stew now?”

Grinning, you give a playful snort and rise to fetch the bowls of warm stew yourself.

Then it hits you, the real fear isn't the dread of her repeating the same mistakes nor the risk of hurting each other again.

No, it's the idea of her being here with you, and not putting in the effort to make things right.

And that, you decide, is something you don't think you could live with.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

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veethefreeelf · 5 months

Text

It takes two - Y.JH

Summary:

Being with Jeonghan has always been easy and a dream come true. But lately, having to deal with being alone with your 6 year old and having a full-time job has started to be very tiring. You don’t want to burden Jeonghan but you don’t know how much longer you can hold it in. Maybe surprising him on tour will help.

Wordcount: 4.9k

Warnings: not many, dad!jeonghan on tour and nonidol mom! reader, angst, fluff, happy ending, reader has some fears and anxiety, suggestive but not explicit smut

Requested: yes, here

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

Your relationship with Jeonghan has always been stable over the years. Sure, like all relationships, you’ve had ups and downs. But the ups and the happiness you shared when you’re together has always overshadowed anything else that might have tried to break you two apart.

You’ve always known from the beginning what it meant being in a relationship with an idol. And, let’s be truthful, you wouldn’t go through it for anyone else but him.

It was difficult in the beginning. Having to hide, pretend you were single for the most part. Always meeting at weird hours in the night so he wouldn’t be followed. But every time he walked through the door of your apartment, all those worries and annoyances disappeared.

It had always been like that. One look at his face. The way he always smiled when he first saw you, and you were done. Nothing else mattered. You would push through anything for this man. You knew that from the very first day. And you knew he felt the same way. There’s no way this low energy angel would have done as much as he did for you if he didn’t feel the exact same way.

You met him 8 years ago. Married him a year after that. A ‘whirlwind romance’ everyone had called it. Almost a year after that, your son was born. He looked so much like Jeonghan. You were thankful for that. At least whenever Jeonghan needed to be away from you, you would have this little angel to look at and hopefully ease the pain in your chest from missing Jeonghan so much.

Over the years it has gotten worse. The pain. And missing him. Yes, you knew what you signed up for but it doesn’t mean it has gotten easier to deal with.

If anything, it has gotten harder. Every time he has to leave. And you have to explain to your son every night why his dad isn’t home and won’t be able to call that night. And if that isn’t enough, you still have to deal with the hate from certain ‘fans’ who will forever want you gone from Jeonghan’s life.

It has gotten worse for your son too. The older he gets, the more he understands what’s going on around him. Which means, the more he misses his dad whenever he’s not around. The more he notices when you get a snide comment thrown at you in public.

Hanbin used to be more understanding of Jeonghan leaving when he was younger. Or maybe time passed by more quickly for him then. Lately, he has not been as understanding and it has been taking a toll on you.

Having a full-time job and a young boy to take care of started to feel like too much for you. You always knew that being a single mom was hard but man, it’s much harder than you ever thought.

And then you feel guilty. ‘Single mom’. That’s not what you are. But sometimes, it sure feels like it.

The rational side of you knows you need to talk to Jeonghan about it but burdening him with your worries and fears is something you can’t do. He already feels guilty enough every time he has to leave you two. You can’t add to that.

Today at work you got a call from Hanbin’s school. This has never happened before. Your boy has always been the sweetest, gentlest soul. You used to say his face was all Jeonghan but his soul was all Joshua. The perfect combination.

You left work and picked up Hanbin from school. You apologized to the teacher and made him apologize to the other boy he had hurt during recess. You did not get back to the office. You decided you needed some time with him. You weren’t the only one hurting from Jeonghan’s recent departure for tour.

You were going to take him to the amusement park 45 minutes away. It was his favorite and you wanted to make him happy today. Even if he misbehaved, this wasn’t like him and you knew that.

“Binnie, let’s go to the amusement park, yeah?” you asked him as you started to drive away from the school.

You noticed when you looked in the rearview mirror he was looking at you suspiciously.

“What? Don’t trust your mom, now? Talk to me, baby” you had told him.

“I was bad. Why are we going to my favorite park if I was bad?” he asked you.

“Because I know you, Hanbin. This is not like you. And I know why you did it. I miss your dad too, you know?” you asked him.

“He said something about you” he said quietly.

“Who did, Binnie? The boy you pushed?”

“Yes. Why does everyone say good things about dad but they always say bad things about you?” he asked you. He didn’t fully understand what it meant being an idol and he definitely didn’t understand the consequences of marrying one. You wanted to try and explain as best as you could.

“Your dad is loved by a lot of people, Binnie. He always was. From a very young age. He is an artist in the public eye and that’s not easy here. 7 years ago he had to tell them he met the love of his life. Most people were happy for him. But some… They didn’t like that. Which meant immediately, they didn’t like me. I’m sorry you have to hear them talk about me that way, baby” you told him sincerely.

“I will always protect you, mom. They don’t matter” he said and he seemed to be a bit lighter. Less worried and annoyed. Good.

Hanbin ended up falling asleep after that conversation and you only woke him up once you reached the park. You had a wonderful afternoon together.

When you got home, things were good. You were waiting for Jeonghan’s call. He hasn’t been able to call you and Hanbin in the last few days with their busy schedules and the time difference but he promised you and your son he would call tonight.

When it started getting late, you knew. There would be no call tonight. You also knew Hanbin had been looking forward to this for a long time. You’re going to have to be the messenger and you already know this is not going to go well.

You turned to your son who was already falling asleep on the couch.

“Binnie, time for bed. You have school tomorrow. It’s getting late”

He looked at you angrily. ‘Here we go again’ you thought.

“No. He promised. I’m not going to bed. No. No!” he started to shout at you and you could see he was starting to tear up. So were you.

“I know, baby. You know dad’s schedule is not easy. He will call when he can. You know that” you tried calming him down and keep your tears at bay.

“No, no, no, no. Why? He promised! HE PROMISED!” he shouted and started to cry. You moved to hug him on the couch and you sat there together for a few minutes.

“Come on, let’s go to bed, yeah? You can sleep with me tonight, Binnie” you whispered to him as you tried to calm him.

“You’ll call him tomorrow, right? Tell him I’m mad. He broke his promise” he asked you.

“I will, baby” you told him and you started getting your son ready for bed.

Once he was fully asleep on your bed, you decided to make a couple of phone calls. First one to Jeonghan. He didn’t pick up. You knew that would be the case so you left a message:

“Hey, Hannie. You didn’t call tonight and Binnie is really sad. We understand your schedules are hard but don’t promise something you can’t keep. You know he takes promises very seriously. I hope you are okay. Please, call me back when you have time. I don’t care about the time. Just call me. Please. Stay safe. I love you”

Second call was to Seungcheol. No answer. Makes sense so again you left another message:

“Hey, Cheolie. I was wondering where you guys are going next and when. I wanted to see if it would be okay for me and Binnie to surprise Jeonghan. Talk to whomever you need to talk to and let me know. Thank you. Stay safe!”

After leaving both messages, you got ready for bed and joined your son.

You woke up a few hours later with your phone ringing. You silenced it as soon as you reached over so Hanbin wouldn’t wake up and you left the bedroom to answer the call.

“Hey, angel. Did I wake you? Sorry, you told me to call back so… I shouldn’t have though” Jeonghan said on the other side of the line.

“Hey… No, I’m glad you did. How are you?” you asked in a hushed tone as you sat down on the living room couch.

“I’m okay… How are you? You don’t sound good, baby” he told you and you were holding back tears at this point. You didn’t want him to hear you cry but you just missed him so much. These last few days have been so difficult.

“I’m… Okay… Binnie has been a bit difficult in the last few days but we’re hanging in there” you told him in your best fake voice.

There was silence on the other side. And after a few seconds, he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry… I know it must be hard being alone with him and with your job” was all he said. But what else could have he said? You were so tired… So, so tired…

You were ashamed of yourself, but in these weak moments you have thought about divorce. This was hard. Too hard. It wasn’t about love. It was about needing a partner with you all the way. You have always struggled with anxiety but it has stayed dormant for many years. Until now. All of those feelings were back. You felt like you were drowning sometimes, like you couldn’t breathe.

“We know it’s not easy for you either” was all you said before tears started streaming down your face. You were doing your best to stay silent, for him not to hear your pain. You don’t want him to feel worse.

“I’ll call you guys tomorrow. I promise. No matter what. Tell Binnie I’m sorry about tonight, please” he told you and you could tell in his voice he was as sad as you at this very moment.

“I will… He’ll understand. He always forgives you as soon as he gets a glimpse of you, you know that. I have to go now but I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course, go rest, baby. I love you…” he said and the tears were flowing faster now.

“I love you too, Hannie…” you told him before you hung up the call.

You went to bed but you could barely get any sleep that night.

You went through your morning routine with Hanbin, dropped him off at school and went to work. You had talked to him in the morning and you explained everything to him and told him tonight they would be able to see and speak to Jeonghan.

Hanbin went to school happy. That’s all that mattered in that moment.

As you were getting ready to leave work and pick up Hanbin, you got a text from Seungcheol.

“Sorry, Y/N. We were so busy yesterday, I couldn’t pick up but absolutely yes. Please. I already talked to our manager, he’s going to call you about the details but join us. He misses you both terribly and he’s a pain in the ass when you’re not around. Tell Binnie his favorite uncle has a gift for him!”

It made you smile. Seungcheol always knew what to say to make you feel better even if he didn’t know you weren’t feeling your best.

Before you left work, you went to your boss’s office to request time off. You never did this anyway. You had barely taken any time off this year.

You couldn’t wait to pick up Hanbin and tell him you were going to join Jeonghan on tour. He was going to be so excited. You would have to adjust the details with his school but again, you had never taken him out of school before so you were sure it would be okay.

When you two got home, you couldn’t stop smiling and your son knew something was different.

“Mom, what are you hiding? Tell meeee” he said also smiling now.

“Well… I have a secret… Can you keep a secret, Binnie? Between you and me, only? No telling dad?” you asked him as you started helping him into a bath.

“Promise. And you know what promises mean to me, mom” he told you seriously.

“I don’t know when yet but we are going to go see dad on tour for a few days. Only if you want to, of course, if you don’t–”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I can’t wait, we’re gonna have so much fun! I miss dad” he told you excitedly.

“I know, baby but we have to keep it a secret. It’s a surprise for your dad so you have to be my buddy and keep this between us, okay?” you asked him once he got in the bath.

“Yes, I’ll be so good. Dad won’t know anything” he said and started playing with his toys. You laughed and went to the kitchen to make dinner for the both of you.

After dinner, Jeonghan called as he promised. Hanbin was immediately over the broken promise and he was very good at keeping your secret. You let them have their moment and they stayed on the video call for a couple of hours before you could also talk to Jeonghan.

You talked for a bit but then you had to get Hanbin to bed so you had to hang up.

You felt a bit better though. It was always like that. One look at him and things felt better already.

The next day you got the call from their manager and you set everything up. You and Hanbin would be leaving in a week and you would stay with them on tour for a week as well. They found a time between two dates where you would have time to spend as a family and you are very grateful for everyone right now.

Finally, tomorrow you two are leaving to go meet Jeonghan. And tomorrow can’t come soon enough. Surprisingly, Hanbin’s behavior has been worse. He has been so excited to see Jeonghan that he barely sleeps. He has been throwing tantrums more often and you are back to feeling a bit hopeless.

But it will all be okay, tomorrow you’ll meet Jeonghan and it will all be okay.

Also, Hanbin has been creating a few gifts for their fans. He said he wants to surprise them and show that we are good. So that maybe they will change their minds about us. It’s funny. Never once did you include him in the explanation about the hate you get. You wanted it to be clear. You were the reason, not Hanbin. But your son will always protect you and he never wants you to feel alone. He’s way too smart for his age.

The next day, you are woken up by a very excited Hanbin. It was a bit too early but you knew there was no stopping this now.

The company sent for a car and you would be escorted by them all the way to the boys. This part was nice. Not having to worry about being seen, touched by people you didn’t know. They would guarantee both your safety there and back.

The plane ride was a wild ride. Hanbin couldn’t sit still, he had so much energy, he just couldn’t contain his excitement and you joined him. You played games, watched movies, and ate good snacks. You were both so happy. In these moments, you felt guilty about some of your previous thoughts. You could never leave them. They were your everything.

After you landed, they took you to the hotel first so you could settle. The boys were already at the venue and all of them knew you two were coming except Jeonghan. You took a quick shower, got ready and made sure Hanbin had his gifts so that you could finally go to the venue.

You got to the venue and you both got led backstage to the common room where the boys were getting ready for the meet & greet. Your heart was beating so fast. You didn’t know why you were nervous but you were.

Hanbin ran to the door and busted through the room way before you did. You could hear all the excitement from far away. Everyone sounded so happy together. You missed this.

As you were getting close to the door, Jeonghan walked through it and he was looking around. Once he spotted you, he ran to you. He held you so tight. You wanted to cry but you didn’t. Hanbin came running after his dad and hugged you both.

“Hanbinnie, let your mom and dad have a moment. Come show uncle Shua the gifts you made for our carats!” Joshua told Hanbin and you were thankful, you needed a moment alone with Jeonghan.

Hanbin went back to Joshua and they both went into the room where again you could hear all the excited voices coming from.

Jeonghan pulled away from the hug and kissed you. Hard. He kissed you like he was going to lose you the next second. You missed him so much. Everything about him. The way he smells, the way he tastes, the way he makes you feel when you’re in his arms.

You two finally move away to breathe.

“I missed you so much, baby. Thank you for coming. I’m so happy you two are here. I was going crazy without you” he had told you and all you could do was nod.

You held him tight again and you just stood there in silence, holding each other until you had to join everyone else.

You still had some time before they had to go, so you all just stayed in the room. Most of the boys were focused on Hanbin and you and Jeonghan were focused on each other. Finally.

“We can have a giveaway for carats with your gifts, Hanbinnie. What do you think?” Hoshi asked Hanbin.

“It’s from me and mom. You have to say it’s from mom too. Not just me” he told Hoshi seriously.

The boys turned to look at you and you just told them ‘Later’ and they all understood you would explain later.

It was time for them to go and Hanbin asked if he could join them since the giveaway was from us. They all looked at you.

“What do you think?” Jeonghan asked you as he held your hand.

You were nervous. You didn’t want your boy to receive any kind of hate. It was something you alone would have to bear for your small family. Jeonghan could sense your hesitation and he knew why.

“I’ll keep him safe, promise. It’ll be okay. He’s a charmer, they’ll fall in love with him right away” he said as he smiled at you to comfort you.

“Okay. Binnie, be good. Follow everyone’s rules, please” you had told your son. He gave you a thumbs up and held Hoshi’s hand.

“Come with us, hmm, baby?” Jeonghan asked you.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not yet” you told him sincerely.

“Love, it’s been 7 years since we told the world. They are the ones that need to adapt, not us. We did nothing wrong. Come with me, please. Just for the giveaway. You know Binnie would love that too” he told you as he squeezed your hand.

You wanted to join him, you did. But you started to think about the last time that happened. About the looks of hate and disgust and you just can’t. You’re not ready.

“I came here for you, Jeonghan. Not them. I know we did nothing wrong but I can’t deal with it right now. I’m… I’m not ready” you told him and you hoped he would understand.

You didn’t want to tell him your anxiety has been back and worse than ever. This was all you could tell him right now. You hoped he would understand. And he did.

You decided to ask some members of the team to help you sit in a place in the arena where no one could see you. You wanted to see the boys in their element and you wanted to see Hanbin as well.

They led you to an empty spot and no one could see you but you could see them perfectly. Hanbin and Jeonghan were holding hands and were so happy. You made the right choice. They started announcing the giveaway and Hanbin was gesturing to speak. Oh. This could go very wrong.

“Hi, carats! My name is Hanbin. This is my dad. He’s cool. But my mom is also very cool. She helped me make these gifts for you and we’re going to give them to you now but you have to earn it!” your son said and everyone started laughing and clapping.

Jeonghan was right. Everyone loved him. He sounded so grown up when he spoke to the crowd. You were so proud of him.

Everything went great. They had the giveaway and the meeting continued after that but you went back to get Hanbin. He was so excited and happy. He kept saying he is sure people will love you now. What an amazing little human you created.

Everything else went perfect. You had some food together, you watched the concert with Hanbin and in the end he was happy and so tired.

You went backstage to join everyone and to tell everyone good night. You had to go back to the hotel and get Hanbin to bed but when Hanbin woke up he must have thought you were taking him home and he started yelling and crying.

He jumped from your lap and ran towards the boys. He started saying you were mean and a lot of other things that you knew he didn’t mean but you’ve reached your boiling point and you did something you have never done before.

“Enough, Hanbin! Enough! No more tantrums! Stop!” you yelled.

You yelled at your son. Loud. Very loud. Everyone was staring at you.This was very out of character for you, they were all confused. Except Hanbin. Hanbin was crying and holding onto Jeonghan tightly.

“Hey, Binnie. Look at dad. I have an idea. What about you have a sleepover with your uncles, huh? You can stay up late and play some games. What do you think?” Jeonghan had lowered himself to his son’s height and was trying to calm him down.

“Really?” Hanbin asked back at him.

Jeonghan looked around at the boys and they all agreed happily.

Suddenly, Hanbin seems to have forgotten all about your offense. He is leaving happily with Seungcheol, Joshua, Seungkwan and Hoshi and the rest of the boys follow them out.

“I think we need to talk, love. I don’t know what’s going on with you but I want to” he told you and you started to cry.

He held your hand and led you towards the exit. This wouldn’t be a conversation to have here.

You got to your hotel room and you were still crying. He looked so worried. This was something you never wanted. But at the same time, you’re so tired. You’re exhausted.

“Talk to me, baby” he told you as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“I’m just exhausted, Jeonghan. I knew what I signed up for when we got together and I knew what was going to happen when we got married and had children but I’m so exhausted. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. The other day, at Hanbin’s school, another mom told me I almost seemed like a single mom the way I was always running to drop off and pick up Hanbin. That she never saw Hanbin’s dad around. She meant it as a joke but it didn’t feel like a joke. It was exactly how I felt. How I feel. I feel alone most of the time” you started telling him as you sobbed.

He didn’t say anything and you knew this was a sign for you to keep going.

“I know I chose this. I never wanted to hire any help. I just… I want a normal family. I know now that’s not possible at all and I have been stretching myself to make this work. I never wanted to be the mom with the nanny. Picking up the kids because I couldn’t. It’s my fault too but even when you’re home. You’re not? Most days you get home so late, we don’t even see you. We’ve accepted it as normal. I accepted it because I didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t want to burden you. I know how guilty you feel every time you leave us. I didn’t want to make it worse for you” you continued.

“But I can’t do this anymore. Something needs to change. I can’t keep feeling like I’m drowning, alone. You know I even thought about divorce” you said and he flinched away from you.

“I did. I thought about it. I already felt like a single mom. Maybe it would be for the best. You get to have your life, the way it always was. No guilt. No burden. You would be free” you told him and he also had tears running down his face now. You know you don’t really want this. You hope he knows this too.

“You think that’s what I want? You think losing you would make me feel free? Unburdened?” he asked you as he wiped his tears and your tears.

“The day I met you, you saved me. I was going through the motions but I wasn’t happy. I had a life everyone dreams of having but I felt empty. I am nothing without you. I am nothing without our family” he continued.

“I’m so sorry you’ve felt this way for this long. You should’ve told me. It takes two to make a marriage work. You are never burdening me. These last few weeks I’ve known something was wrong and you wouldn’t tell me. You know how frustrating that is? Wanting to help you but you won’t let me?” he asked you as he held your face and forced you to look into his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize. Never apologize for this. I had a suspicion of what was wrong. You know Cheol and Sara went through this exact same thing last year? She did to him exactly what you were doing to me. I know it’s hard being with us. Dealing with everything. But we need to talk. We need to communicate with each other about all of our worries. It’s the only way for this to work. We will find a solution for whenever I’m on tour. We just need to talk about it. As for the times I am home but overworking, I will talk to everyone about it and set boundaries for my schedule” he said and you interrupted him.

“No, Hannie. I don’t want you to sacrifice your work–”

“I won’t sacrifice you. Or our family. Cheol has done it too. Set schedule boundaries. The company understands. We’re not 22 anymore. We have families. We are husbands and fathers. We can’t work until 3 AM every night and tour for months without a break” he told you while looking into your eyes.

You felt so relieved. All the weight has been lifted from your shoulders. All you needed to do was talk to each other. You won’t make this mistake again, you know that much.

“You love me, baby?” he asked you as he licked his lips and stared at yours.

“I love you so fucking much… You love me, Hannie?” you answered and asked him right back.

He leaned in and whispered against your lips.

“You are everything”

He started to kiss you then and everything faded away. Nothing matters in this moment. Only you and him. Alone in this room. Loving each other. Desperately. Passionately.

The rest of the week went by fast. You three spent most of the time together without anyone else. Exploring the city and having fun.

You were thankful this little angel had 12 uncles around that could distract him while you and Jeonghan had your alone time.

The days were for the whole family. But the nights were for you and Jeonghan. Every night he made love to you. He made you feel exactly like what he had told you that day you finally talked. He made you feel like his everything.

You kept talking through the week and you had made a decision together. It was time to consider a part time nanny but also it was time for you to consider working less hours. You weren’t sure how your boss and company were going to take this but right now it doesn’t matter.

The only thing that matters is making sure you two will never have to go another day without telling each other and showing each other how much you love one another.

Because it takes two to make a marriage work, but it takes the three of you to make your heart complete.

Hey guys! I hope you guys enjoy this one. I hope I honored the request while still being able to add some of my vision! 😭😇 As usual, please let me know in the comments and such if you enjoyed reading it 💕 Thank you for supporting me! CHEERS 🥂

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adorerry · 8 months

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A bouquet a day keeps the sadness away. | H.S

Pairing: boyf!harry styles x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: you have been feeling a bit down recently so harry decides to add a special something into his daily routine in hopes to make you feel better

Warnings: tiny mention of depression at the start, PURE FLUFF! (p.s I literally know nothing about flowers, so hashtag don’t hate the flowers I chose pls xx)

a/n: stay til the end for a surprise ;) if you would like to be added to my tag list please pop me a message in dm's or in my requests/talk to me box :*

With seasonal depression just around the corner, your moods have swooped down a load recently. Instead of going for your daily runs and gym sessions with harry, you stayed in bed and binge watched Netflix all day, crying over the smallest things ever and overall having no motivation to do anything. Other people might think it's pathetic, but Harry had immediately noticed your change of moods and knew he had to do something about it straight away. Even on days when u felt at your very best, Harry still managed to slip the odd compliment and reassuring quote in just to make sure you knew how much you meant to him. That’s when harry got the bright idea of doing something small for you each day of the week just to remind you how much he loves you and how proud he is of you.

Monday.

You woke up, mind groggy, rolling over to feel an empty space where harry usually lays. Rubbing your drowsy eyes, you opened them to see Harry's side of the bed neatly tucked in, pillows perfectly fluffed up, no creases in the sheet. Everything was perfectly in place except for him. Where was he?

Groaning to yourself, you stretch your legs out of the bed and trapse along to the kitchen.

Your eyes rapidly tearing up at the scene in front of you. A huge bouquet of sunflowers with a note peeping out from the top.

“My sweet sweet angel. I'm sorry for not being there this morning when you woke up, but I had to rush to the studio. Duty calls... :( I hope you're feeling a bit better this morning, text me as soon as you finish reading this note. Let me know how you are! I got you these flowers as a reminder of all the happy times we have together. I did my research and apparently sunflowers represent happiness, and I'm hoping they make your happiness shine out. I’ll never fathom how you are mine; you are everything I ever hoped and dreamed of. Keep being your beautiful, pleasing self. Shouldn’t be too long... don't miss me too much. H x”

Tuesday.

Every Tuesday morning harry would go out for meetings with his team, so you weren’t really surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again. When he arrived back home yesterday, he smothered you in kisses and cuddles while insisting you guys ordered a takeout and had a movie night and that’s exactly what you did.

Pouring your milk, you heard the doorbell ring as you pranced over to the door not expecting any deliveries today. “Delivery for Mrs Styles?” The delivery man questioned. Your face immediately beginning to flush a red tone as you accepted the parcel. Mrs styles.. It has a nice ring to it you think to yourself as you open the box to yet again another bouquet of flowers with a note.

“Hello baby, hope you're having an amazing morning. I also hope you didn’t mind the delivery man calling u Mrs styles... I really need to make that official soon huh. I’ll be home a little later today, please take care of yourself throughout the day. Maybe go for a little walk to clear your head? Mum said she will meet you if you pop her a text, maybe go to the small café you like? My treat ;) Hope you like the roses. They symbolise love, and that’s exactly why I got them. I love you so much you never fail to fill the empty gaps in my heart. See you tonight lovie. H x”

Wednesday.

Yesterday afternoon you spent it with anne having a catchup, both of you agreeing to go out shopping today, and last night cuddled up with harry in bed chatting about life and how the team was treating him. Surprisingly on one of your only mornings waking up next to harry, you were the first to be awake and out the house. Due to his busy schedule, it was another late night at the studio for harry but you didn’t mind as you knew he was doing things he loved.

When you arrived back home you saw yet again another box waiting for you to open it and pick it up. Taking everything inside you let out a slight laugh as you opened the box to a huge bouquet of lavenders. Obviously, it wasn’t a bouquet without the famous note...

“I hope you're not sick of my flower sending yet :( Woke up this morning and you weren’t there, felt a little deflated that I couldn’t smother you in kisses to wake you up but mum text me saying she took you shopping which made me feel way better. It’s so lovely seeing the two people I care for the most bonding and spending time together, and that’s why I've sent you these beautiful lavenders. They symbolise peace and you may be wondering why I have sent you flowers for peace? I want your beautiful body and brain to give you a break from all the stressful thoughts wandering them. I hope today brought you so much peace and I can assure you the future will too... I love you my precious girl. H x”

Thursday.

Surprise surprise, another morning without harry. This morning he left for training day with brad. You really wish you were there to witness harry in training mode but instead you found yourself once again opening another bouquet of flowers.

“Hi lovie, this is a short one today. I'm sorry... This short note is worth it as tomorrow is unfortunately the last flower bouquet day. I know, I know I can hear your sobs from here but don’t worry darling it will all be worth it I just need you to trust me.. Which is why I got you freesia flowerers today. They symbolise trust and I'm needing you to trust me with everything you have. I’ll see you tomorrow, love you millions. H x”

Friday aka The last flower day.

You felt the bed dip as you made a lazy attempt to open your eyes as you felt the immediate kisses harry started planting all over your face.

“G’mornin’ lovie. Y’gonna wake up for me?” he questioned swiping the stray hairs away from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Mhm” you replied turning over and slowly dozing back to sleep as you felt harry pick you up taking you somewhere in the house.

It took harry 10 minutes to wake you up, once he was successful you looked at your surroundings to see you were in the living room.

“Got you a coffee anndddd your very last bouquet box” he said placing down both the coffee and box Infront of you

“You really didn’t have to do this for me H.. but I really appreciate it so thank you” you leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek as you turned back around eagerly opening the box to see what’s inside the last one.

You opened the box to the most gorgeous flowers you had ever seen but felt a pang in your heart when you didn’t see a note, harry noticed your frantic looks as he reached over and grabbed a handwritten note.

“I felt like a handwritten one is better for today's note, feels more personal?” he said with a slanted smile placed on his face. You began to read the note as you hear harry rustling around behind you.

“Good morning gorgeous... I felt like a handwritten note was the better option for today. A week today will be our 5-year anniversary. I can’t even begin to thank you for all the astonishing things you have done for me these past 5 years, I most definitely wouldn’t be here without you, you are my muse... So, thank you thank you thank you. I really hope you like my choice of today's flower’s, il explain to you what they symbolise in a second. You have showed me how to love and what true love feels like, and I will continue giving you everything I have until my very last day on earth. These flowers are my personal favourites... They are called calla lilies, and they symbolise marriage. I love you I love you I love you. So, what I'm trying to say is...”

“Y/n..” you turn around nearly giving yourself whiplash, seeing the love of your life on one knee your eyes start welling up as your hands automatically cover your mouth in shock. “Will you marry me?”

You desperately nod your head as your head finds the crook of his neck while your tears find a home in his t-shirt. Secretly harry let out a few tears too but he would never let you know that.

A/N again: Woweee if you made it this far hi! Thank you so much for reading this is my very first thing i've ever posted on this account, I'l do a small post soon introducing myself and what/who I write.

I DO NOT give consent to anyone reposting my writing and claiming it as theirs. I AM more than happy for you guys to reblog, add to reccomendation lists etc (this really helps especially as im a small account!). If you would like to translate any of my posts please message me before hand so we can chat about it!

I love you, stay safe, my messages are ALWAYS open dont be affraid to message me.. M x

#harry styles #harry styles love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #adorerry

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gayassbish · 6 months

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Genshin Girls When They’re Late to a Date! Modern AU

Genre: Angst, Eventual fluff

Reader: Gender Neutral

Characters: Beidou, Yelan, Sangonomiya Kokomi, Ei

Beidou-

It’s raining. Your girlfriend is late. You wonder if she even forgot your anniversary. You’re sitting at the, now wet, picnic spot that you picked hoping to watch the sunset while eating the delicious home-made sandwiches you made for her. You hoped you guys would reminisce about past time while watching the warm sky finally turn blue. This was supposed to be a romantic outing, but instead you’re by your lonesome with no Beidou in sight.

You guys have been together for a while now, and Beidou has been so attentive of your every need, making sure you’re always comfortable, safe, and warm with her around. And what’s worse? The fact that she’s sent all your calls to voicemail and hasn’t answered your texts, or that she’s smiling… climbing the hill you’re sat on and bringing a hugeee umbrella to cover you, her, and the food.

“Hey love,” she calls out quietly. You remain silent as she places the umbrella down to protect you and the already soggy food from the rain. She doesn’t sit down yet, waiting for your permission.

“Won’t even look at me, huh?” She sighs, kneeling and looking in your direction. The soft rain outlining her figure.

You sigh, “Please make yourself at home, don’t want you to get a cold.” You say with an eye roll as you’re basically an ice cube away from turning into a snowman.

She chuckles a bit as you scoot over to make space for her. She grabs your hand and gives it a rub, trying to warm you up. You let her. This is her apologizing for her being late. You can tell she feels too bad to even mention an excuse as to why she’s late right now, but you ask anyway. “Why did you come so late? The suns already gone and the sandwiches are pretty much ruined…” You speak barley even audible, but Beidou catches it. She catches everything you say.

“Well… did you eat all the sandwiches or are they all actually soggy?” She reaches for the picnic basket, imagining the wooden protective cover would keep the sandwich’s dry, plus you put them in a zip log.

You slap her hand quickly before she can uncover the basket. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have eaten all of them if you came on time!” You huff angrily, finally looking her in the eyes to see her already looking at you, with her signature hearty smile. She watches your face soften at the sight of her.

“Oh there’s those sweet eyes,” she rubs a hand over your cheek. Practically holding you captive. You can’t refuse. “Why don’t we just make this a stargazing night instead, hmm? Would you like that?” Once you nod, she pushes you down the wet blanket you laid out, cupping your face as she starts to kiss you softly.

If only you weren’t so weak in the knees for her…

P.S. You eventually found out she was late cause she saw the weather forecast ahead of time (unlike you) and left half way in the drive to the picnic spot so she could grab a huge umbrella to keep you warm. She was actually really angry at herself she couldn’t beat the rain.

Yelan-

You’re scared. It’s dark out. The restaurant is closing and your ride, your girlfriend may I add, is no where to be seen. The dangers of waiting in the street in this city is just a fiasco already in motion.

And your girlfriend knows this, hence why she’s practically never late to anything. Yelan is always looking out for any possible danger like a hawk (she can be a little over protective sometimes). But it’s been maybe about two hours since your original meeting time? You wouldn’t know because your phone is dead… You have no idea where she is, and the restaurant staff is waiting on you so they can leave.

You sheepishly apologize to the waitress closing up as you exit the fancy restaurant that Yelan reserved. ‘Where the hell is she??’ You ponder. But just as you exit out the restaurant, you see the familiar expensive black car pull up.

Yelan doesn’t roll down the window, no, she jumps out the car and runs toward you. She frantically grabs your shoulders and starts shaking you. “Are you okay?? Why weren’t you home? Did something happen? I had to track you through your phone, gosh I was worried sick.” She starts to speak really fast while she gives you a quick look around to confirm to herself that you are alive.

Once she reassured herself that you’re okay, she noticed how fancy you’re dressed and looks up to the name of the restaurant, finally remembering this was the day she invited you out to eat. “Oh… oh baby I’m so sorry.” A look a guilt fills her face as she frowns.

“Did you forget?” You chime. The disappointment still lingers, but whatever anger you felt, dissipated from the look of panic on her face. She nods, resting her head on your shoulder as you rub her back. “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” She stiffens at your words. She looks back to make eye contact with you and your soft sympathizing smile melts her heart. How could she ever keep someone as sweet as you waiting?

Yelan takes another look at you. Letting the sight in front of her really sink in. “You dressed this nice for me?” She smirks and you heat up.

You always shy away when she gives you that look. “I just wanted today to be special and then to look special… for you.” Yelan’s heart probably skipped a beat at that.

“Then let me make it up to you.” She opens the passenger seat and holds a hand out for you. Nothing but determination set on her face as you accept the familiar warmth of her hand and climb in.

P.S. I bet she ended up taking you to Mcdonalds cause basically nothing is open late anymore (Thanks a lot COVID)

Kokomi-

You’re worried. The crowd of the movie theatre starts to disperse and there’s still no sign of Kokomi anywhere. It’s maybe about an hour after your meeting time and the movie is already halfway done probably. You decide to venture out the cinema to the busy street, sun hitting your eyes as it’s still bright out.

But this sunny atmosphere doesn’t help the fact that you’re worried sick, not for yourself but Kokomi. She actually planned this date and she isn’t picking up her phone. ‘God what if something happened to her.’ You’d never forgive yourself if something did. You made a promise to yourself to always protect her.

You knew Kokomi had a habit of over exhausting herself; that she tends to sorta just crash afterwards and needs time to recharge. This weekend was supposed to be a celebration for completing finals week, but maybe the cramming got to her.

After wandering around the city for a bit, occasionally calling out your lover’s name, you decide to head to her dorm. Luckily it’s not far away. It’s a 10 minute walk, but you make it five as you’re in a hurry to make sure she’s okay.

While rushing a flash of pink strides past you as it takes you a second to look back at the familiar backside of your girlfriend.

“Kokomi! Wait up!” You immediately dash as she turns around at the sound of her name. She pauses. The look of panic of her face turns into a scrunched up one as she starts to cry at the sight of you. There’s eye bags under her eyes, her hairs a mess, and she’s still in pajamas. She still looks like the princess she is though, but you can tell she was rushing to meet you.

She runs over to you and frantically exclaims, “I’m so sorry, I slept through my alarm and set so many to make it on time cause I really wanted to watch this with you but I didn’t hear the ring. You’ve been looking forward to movie weekend for so long cause of finals and so have I cause I needed to see you. But I’ve been so tired from all these all nighters and-“

“Kokomi calm down, it’s okay. You’re okay and that’s all that matters.” You grab her and give her a hug, trying to sooth her down as she bawls in your arms. “It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You rub her back as she eventually pulls herself together.

“Ugh sorry you had to see me like that. I look like a mess right now.” She looks at her feet and tugs at the shirt she’s wearing that has different toothpaste stains.

“Oh my god, don’t be ridiculous Koko.” She flushes at the sound of her nickname as you comfort her. “Even if you were covered in mud or fell into a trash can, you’d still be the prettiest girl in the world.” She blushes even more at your words and gives you another hug.

“I really missed you this week.” She says, hugging you even tighter.

“I know, so did I. Why don’t we just do movie night at your place?” You pat her head as she nods. You guys hold hands on the way back as Kokomi eventually returns to her passionate self in your presence.

P.S. She forgot her phone as she rushed out to get you.

Ei-

Your girlfriend doesn’t leave the house often. She’s really busy and tends to be a homebody anyway, so this weekend you wanted to take a road trip to the nearby beach and finally enjoy some sunlight with her. Don’t get me wrong, staying home with Ei makes for a passionate and cozy atmosphere, but you wanted more of a romantic environment sometimes.

Hence why you’re here, voice mailing Ei wondering if she’s still at the beach hotel. You guys would’ve walked to the beach together if it weren’t for the fact that Ei still has some work to finish up and told you that’d she’d meet you there soon.

At first you were having fun, playing in the water and sand, but it’s been a good hour since Ei said she’d be coming. Now, an hour might not seem too long on the beach given there’s a lot to do, but Ei said she’d be coming out soon. And while Ei isn’t very good with time management (she’s a perfectionist who takes the lasting seconds to perfect her work) she promised you that this weekend was just going to be you, her, and the big blue sea.

You sit on the sand, wet from the sea but not cold with the sun’s glare. You watch the waves go back and forth. The wishy-washy sea oddly reminds you of your relationship. There’s those times where it feels like the perfect relationship in the world, but then its goes back to times like these. You don’t like being mad at Ei, she has her reasons of course, but you just want to be the priority sometimes.

You get lulled out of your thoughts at the sound of your name. “Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you. Are you ready for the beach?” You turn around to see her huffing and puffing from running. But once she sees a gloomy look on your face she asks, “What’s wrong?” She sits down next to you and looks to you for an answer.

“I…,” you sigh. You can’t say it. Ei works hard; not to play hard, but she works hard to provide. She’s paying for this trip and you just can’t bring yourself to complain. “No, sorry it’s nothing-“

“Y/N tell me. I know when something is troubling you.” She cuts you off and gives your hand a squeeze. She looks so attentively at you, searching your eyes for an answer.

“I just wish you’d spend more time with me… you promised it’d be just you and me, but you’ve spent more time with your laptop than me and I just… I just don’t get how I can miss my girlfriend when she’s right next to me.” You poor everything out in the open as a silence lingers in the air. You don’t meet Ei’s eyes, slightly worried she might be angry.

But you’re met with a hug instead. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t feel nice to be put second. Work has been hectic lately, but I promise- no enough promises. I am going to be the best for you. You deserve nothing but the best. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I didn’t realize the time passed by.” She doesn’t let go of the hug. “Please say something.” She burrows her head in your neck.

You wrap your arms around her back and feel her soften up in your arms. “I know you’re trying. You try every day to be your best not just for me, but for yourself too and that’s what I love about you. So it’s okay, I understand. Just can we put work aside this once and focus on each other?” She looks back at you with sparkles in her eyes and holds your hands.

“Really? You don’t want to scrap the whole thing?” She asks, cautious she fucked things up this time.

“No, of course not!” You get up as the look of shock still lingers on her face. “Common the waves are going to get cold soon!” You pull her hand as you get up and run to the waters. Laughter trailing behind you as you meet the waves again with your feet. The waves make you now realize that every relationship has its highs and lows, but the beauty of a relationship is working through those lows.

A/N: writing about women instead of doing my home work >>

#genshin women x reader #genshin wlw #genshin impact #beidou #kokomi #genshin yelan #yelan #yelan x reader #yelan genshin impact #ei genshin #raiden #raiden shogun #raiden genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin imagines

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lulublack90 · 8 days

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Prompt 22 - Roommate AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 22, word count 938

CW - Pandora jokes about Remus getting murdered and dismembered.

Moving countries was scary. Moving to the capital city seemed scarier. Remus left his childhood home in the Welsh countryside and clambered onto the bus that would take him to London.

He’d wanted to move for years but had always been too scared. His parents had instilled in him how dangerous it would be for him not to know anyone for hundreds of miles.

One morning, while he was munching on his cornflakes, he noticed an ad in his father’s newspaper.

‘Roommate Wanted!

All bills are paid. Just pay for your own food.

Sexy, well-bred male looking for a friend/companion to share a house in a highly sought-after area of London.

Please use the number below to apply. Please, serious enquiries only. No, this is not a joke.

P.S. Must love Bowie, or we’re not going to get along.’

Remus quickly put his breakfast things away and, grabbing his phone, fled outside, typing the number into his phone as he went.

He settled under his favourite tree and pressed call.

“Hello,” A husky voice answered.

“Oi, hi. My name is Remus Lupin, and I—” He started to explain.

“Look, mate. I don’t know what you’re selling, but calling me at this ungodly hour is unacceptable. Goodbye.”

“Wait- wait. I’m not selling anything. I’m phoning about your ad!” Remus hurriedly spoke before the man could hang up.

“Oh, in that case. Hello, I’m Sirius.” Sirius suddenly sounded a lot more cheerful. “So why do you want to be my roommate?”

“Well, erm. I’ve always wanted to move to London, but I’ve been a bit worried about living there on my own.” He told Sirius, deciding the truth would be best.

“Uhuh, uhuh. Anything else?” Sirius sounded a bit bored. Remus knew he was screwing this up.

“I’m clean and tidy and don’t make much noise. I have enough money saved to pay my way—” Sirius cut him off again.

“All the bills are paid for. You only need to get yourself food.” Remus nodded even though Sirius couldn’t see him.

“Oh, right. I wasn’t sure if that bit was true. Erm, I don’t have a job yet, but I’ll start looking straight away.”

“Remus, I’m gonna stop you there. I don’t think we’re going to be a good fit. I can already tell you are the complete opposite of me. No offence, but you sound like you go to bed early and like nothing more than to sit by the fire drinking hot chocolate and reading a good book.” Sirius said honestly. He wasn’t wrong. What Sirius had just described was his usual evening routine. He had to think of something compelling to change Sirius’s mind.

“I have every David Bowie vinyl.” He blurted out.

“Really?” Sirius sounded excited now.

“Yeah, yeah, and I don’t know how you feel about T. Rex, but I have all there’s as well, and Led Zeppelin and loads of others.” All he could hear was the slight buzzing from the phones as the line went silent.

“Alright, Remus Lupin, you’ve twisted my leg. You’re the only person who’s called so far that I’ve actually managed to tolerate for more than ten seconds. So, let’s give it a go. When can you move in?” Remus sat there in shock.

“Really? You want me?”

“Sure, why not? The room’s all set up just need to bring some clothes and whatnot. I’ll text you the address, and you can let me know when you want to come. If you find it’s not for you, you can move out whenever you like. That sound okay?” Sirius spoke quickly, but Remus managed to make out all the words.

“Sounds brilliant. I’ll make arrangements and then give you a date.”

“Grand. Oh, and Remus, I really hope it works out.” With that, Sirius hung up, and Remus was left reeling.

“Oh, you’re totally getting murdered.” Pandora, his best friend, snorted when he told her he was moving to London and what the ad had said.

“No, I’m not. Sirius seems really nice.”

“Oh, sweet baby, you are so getting chopped into little bits and placed around London to look like a smiley face or something.” She’d clapped her hands together and jumped up and down on the spot.

“Gee, thanks, Pan. Love the confidence there.” He rolled his eyes and pushed down the panic that her words could actually turn out to be very true.

The bus was packed with holidayers, commuters and everything in between. Remus was glad of his noise-cancelling headphones and his favourite book. In a couple of hours, he’d be starting his new life. Everything he owned was in the compartment under the bus and was surprisingly little.

London was busier than he had ever imagined, coming from a tiny village. The noise and smells were overpowering. He got the tube from Victoria next to the coach station and rode it up to Islington.

He followed Sirius’s directions through a beautiful, tidy neighbourhood. Remus walked past a picturesque park and found the house. Number 12 Grimmauld Place loomed above him. It was far grander than he’d imagined. He walked up the front steps and used the heavy serpentine brass knocker. It thudded loudly against the wooden door. He heard scrabbling on the other side before a heavy lock clunked, and the door swung open to reveal the most beautiful man Remus had ever seen, flipping his long black hair out of his face.

“Remus?!” Sirius exclaimed joyfully. Oh boy, Remus was in trouble. He reached his hand out and shook Sirius’s before following him into the house, closing the heavy door behind him.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar au #wolfstar fic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #pandora lovegood #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #we're going to london #makes zero sense to me why but hey ho #don't answer weird ads guys #pandoras would probably be right if this was real life #cw pandora jokes about Remus getting murdered and dismembered.#roommate AU

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dckweed · 3 months

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NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play.

p.s. if y'all ever wanted to send in little rambles or drabble ideas for pearlie and gator to my ask box feel free to my babes, i love interaction with my readers! or even if you wanted to just ask me questions to get to know me!

song in the last scene is somebody's heartbreak - hunter hayes

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

PART FOUR: the weekend, pt 2

Friday.

Your first night in the Tillman house was quiet to say the least. After picking up Jessica and Maude from their school, both of them clambering into Gator’s truck (he had insisted on taking his own so that he could be the sole driver) with slight grumbles, they were used to their mom picking them up, and even Roy on special occasions, they perked up when they realized that their older brothers wife to be was in the passenger seat.

“Are you really going to marry him?” Maude, or maybe it was Jessica you weren’t sure how to tell them apart just yet, asked with wide, curious eyes that glanced between you and her big brother. Gator turns half cocked in his seat to give a dirty look to the offending twin. “What? You’re gross.” She muttered, resigning to buckling her seatbelt.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat or the grin that spread across your lips. “She’s not wrong,” You giggle when he gives you an equally offended look. “I’ve seen your bedroom!”

Gator rolls his eyes at you but smiles anyway, asking the girls what they wanted for supper.

He had made supper while you helped the girls with their homework, it was an oddly domestic experience that you basked in, as was holding his hand while he said grace before everyone dug into the sloppy mess of what you quickly gathered was about the only thing he was capable of cooking, pasta.

He had left for work not too long after that, leaving with a hurried and wet kiss to your cheek and a stern look at his sisters to behave themselves, a reminder to lock the doors after he was gone, and to text him if he needed anything, to which you had called out to him that he would have to actually respond too. He simply flips you off as he walks down the steps of the porch.

The girls were an absolute joy, much like your own little sisters. You could tell that they were sweet but that they absolutely enjoyed getting under their older siblings skin whenever they could and you couldn’t say you blamed them, he seemed like he could be a hard ass from time to time.

When they were off to bed you were left alone to your own devices, exploring what bit of the house you felt comfortable enough to while you were alone, cleaning up after you and the girls’ evening and even cleaning up some of Gator’s room, at least cleaning the mess off of the floor.

Eventually, it was late enough that your eyes felt heavy and you could barely hold your head up, you had busied yourself with wedding planning and looking at the photos that littered your fiance’s room, questions racing through your mind about who the women were in them as you explored. You hadn’t been paying attention to the time and were surprised to find that it was after three am, and that Gator had texted you around midnight.

GATOR: how’s everything?

The girls go to bed okay?

Are you asleep?

Something about the string of messages, sent only a few minutes apart made you smile. And then you laughed when you realized that you were the one not responding now. Although in your defense, the messages had been sent when you had been downstairs putting a load of his laundry in the machine, having found a container of detergent on his closet floor, different from the kind that you noticed was downstairs. You hadn’t though to check the phone when you had come back up.

Now that you were in his bed, under his comforter and breathing in his scent that was all over the pillows and sheets, you felt oddly relaxed. Smirking, you open your phone and pull up your camera, giving a slightly sultry face as you snapped a clear pick of you in his bed, one of your pert nipples hardened and showing through the thing fabric of your sorry excuse for a tank top.

You attach the photo to a message and send it to him.

YOU: nice and cozy

You see him open the message, the little bubbles start moving like he’s typing something to you, and then they stop and you laugh, tossing the phone onto the pillow next to you and rolling onto your side. You close your eyes and you’re close to falling asleep when you hear it ping with a new message.

GATOR: the hell are you doin’ up so late?

You pout. You expected a reaction to the photo you sent, at the very least an acknowledgement to it and you have to admit you're a little upset that he didn't. Were you over reading things? Did he not like you like that? You had thought that you were friendly enough to send flirty messages back and forth, especially given the way he had stared at your tits before he had even spoken to you, why wouldn't he give a response to the photo?

Deciding to brush it off, you roll your eyes and snap a picture of the floor off the side of his bed, it gave a clear shot of the rug in front of it that was previously messy.

YOU: keeping myself busy Deputy, your room was calling to me

You send it and you don't bother to wait and see if he opens it, closing your eyes to try and get some kind of sleep.

A couple hours later you wake to a God awful screeching in your ears, scaring you so badly you bit your head on the wall as you jump into a sitting position. It's coming from the nightstand next to the bed, closest to the pillow that smells the most like Gator. His fucking alarm clock bleating in your ears at goddamn six in the morning.

“Two fucking hours of sleep.” You grumble, kicking your legs angrily as you try to get the comforter off of your body. “Jesus Gator, why's it so fucking cold in here?!” You whine outloud, arms folded over your chest as stomp your way to his closet, pulling his thick robe out and tying it around your waist. He's much bigger than you, it hangs to your feet and the cuffs fall over hands. You probably looked stupid but you didn't care, it was the warmest thing you could find.

You remember that it's Friday, and the girls have school so you open the door of his bedroom and shuffle across the hallway to the girls’. You peek your head in and one of them is just starting to stirr in their bed.

“Hey girls,” You say, soft but loud as you walk between their beds. The one on the left is the one already stirring, Maude you think. She rubs her eyes as you sit down on the edge of Jessica's bed, giving the girl a soft shake. “time to get up and get ready for school okay? Don't want your mama and daddy getting upset with me because you're late..”

You would probably never hear the end of it from Karen. And you certainly wouldn't feel the end of it from Boyd if she ran her mouth to him about it.

Jessica comes to with a little more persistence on your end and you make sure they're actually up and shuffling to the bathroom to brush their hair and teeth before you leave them alone, headed downstairs to make breakfast.

You whip up a quick eggs and toast situation, and pour them some orange juice and wonder how the hell they're so perky when they come down the stairs and sit in their chairs.

“Where's Gator?” Jessica asks, taking a big gulp of her juice. “He's usually home by now, I wonder if he got to arrest someone..I wonder if he'll have a cool story for us!”

You shrug, sipping on your own juice. “I'm sure he's on his way, sweetie..” You say, keeping an eye on the time. You have just enough time to do the dishes and leave a plate out for Gator before you have to take them to school.

You drive in his robe, planning to go back to the house and sleep for a little longer, the sleepless nights at Boyd's finally catching up to you. You promise to pick them up in your Jeep this afternoon, and to make them something other than spaghetti for supper too and make the drive back to the ranch.

Gator's squad car is in the drive when you park, his plate of eggs eaten and sat neatly in the sink. You don't stop to wash it, too tired as you drag your feet up the staircase and into the upstairs hallway. His bedroom door is closed, and when you open it you find him sprawled on his stomach on the bed, nothing on but his boxer shorts. He's snoring lightly, and you know he must be exhausted to already be asleep as he couldn't have been home long.

“Ugh, boys.” You grumble, tripping over his work boots that were laid in the middle of the floor, one stood up right and the other tossed unceremoniously on its side. His tactical vest is at least on the back of his desk chair, his thigh holster with the gun still inside of it placed on the desktop. You crouch and pick up his camouflage pants and his skin tight black shirt, tossing them in the empty laundry hamper in the closet before hanging the robe back up.

Without much more thought you crawl into the bed next to Gator, getting comfortable next to his warm body and falling asleep again within minutes.

Gator wakes a couple of hours later to warm breath in his face and weight across his chest. He's groggy and it takes him a moment to realize that it's you. Sometime between him coming home and going to bed, you had also come home and had crawled into bed with him, somehow winding up laying partially on top of him.

You look so peaceful when you sleep, your lips parted and your face so uncaring. You were laying on your back, one arm thrown over his chest. He can't help but to guiltily look down, eyes roaming over your chest. He kept it pretty cool in his room, and it was clear your body was reacting to it by the way your hardened nipples poked through your flimsy tank top that obviously barely covered your tits to begin with. He stifled a groan when he felt himself getting hard, same as he had last night when you'd sent him that goddamn photo. God, he had practically cum in his pants when he'd seen it, but he didn't think you could have possibly meant it in any other way than just to be playful in response to his text.

He had had to jerk off to it only a few hours ago, and now that he had you in his bed with him and he got to look at the real thing? Fuck, he couldn't get to the bathroom fast enough.

Gently moving out from under your arm, he sits up, his elbow brushing the fabric of your tank top as he stands. He glances back at you once he's on his feet, one hand clutched on the comforter as you squirm around, his eyes locking onto discolored flesh on the upper part of your rib cage peeking out from the bit of your shirt he had accidentally moved. It was a violent shade of green with a little tinge of purple.

Hard on long forgotten he reaches a steady hand out and gently pushes the top up father, exposing the bottom of your tit to his eyes, and the rest of a large, angry bruise that looked like it wrapped around your entire front.

“Jesus fuck..” His first thought was that his father had done something to you, hit you with his horse whip maybe when you were alone yesterday, but he knew he wouldn't. Not yet, not until your last name was legally Tillman and he felt entitled to you. The bruise was too old for that anyway, his next thought was maybe some sonofabitch from school. Anger welled up inside of him. He was angry that some dickhead had marked up his fiance, angry that his bride was walking around with these bruises and he had no idea who put them there. Angry that he wasn't there to stop it, to put that fucker in the back of his squad car, or better yet, twenty feet in the fucking ground out in some forgotten field on the fucking ranch.

With shaking, but gentle hands he shakes your shoulders. “Pearl,” He whispers, you groan in response, kicking your feet as if trying to push him away. “Pearlie, hon, wake up..need'ta ask you somethin’”

You're groggy, eyesight swimming as you slowly open your eyes. “Mmm was'uh matter?” You ask, barely registering the shaking hands gripping your shoulders. You see a funny look on Gator's face, something between pain and sadness and rage and that's what wakes you up, wondering what had happened. “Gator? What's wrong?” You try to sit up but his strong hands keep you pinned down. “Ga-”

“Who hurt you?” His voice is strained, and you feel his fingers grip your shoulders tightly as he looks down at your..oh. He must have seen the bruises left over from Boyd's lashing. “Pearlie, honey, who fuckin’ did this to you?” His voice is a whisper but it holds so many emotions in it, sadness and pain, and anger that for once in your life isn't directed at you. Maybe it's because you're groggy still, or maybe because he's just so damn gentle in the way he asks it, the way he's holding your shoulders but you feel your lip start to quiver and before you know it, a sob is breaking from your chest.

Gator doesn’t particularly know what to do when your entire body shakes with the force of your crying, his hands moving from your shoulders to let your sit up, your shirt riding down over the godforsaken bruise. It was your own fault, for wearing something so short, you realized. But it was also Boyd’s fault for hitting you in the first place. Sobs wracked your body as your mind started working, were you relieved? Scared? You had never had to tell anyone about what was going on at home before, you had always hidden it so well from everyone, including your own mother and now? You had to tell him, Gator wasn’t going to take ‘don’t worry about it’ as an answer, you may have only known him and been engaged for a week but you knew him enough to know that that wasn’t his style. You were as much a Tillman now as you were an Augastine, you were his to protect, to keep safe.

For how long you cry, you’re not sure, but at some point it gets bad enough that Gator sits down with you, strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling your head into his bare chest. You tears left a wet mess in the smattering of hair that lay between his pecs, his fingers rubbing small circles in your hair as he whispered soothing words into the top of your head. “It’s okay, hon..” He would say, over and over again. “It won’t ever happen again, Pearlie girl..” Occasionally thrown in, and from the way he spoke it, the way his body felt underneath of you when the words left his mouth, you knew he was telling the truth. “I promise you’re safe with me..won’t ever hurt you..” He had whispered a few times, and you swore he was crying too.

The tears stop after a while, and your heart stops racing, your body no longer shaking. He doesn’t let you go though, and in all honesty, you don’t want him to. “Boyd..” You say finally, giving a small sniffle after the word. Your voice was so small, cracked with emotion that you weren’t sure he had heard it at first until you felt the way his arms tightened around you, almost to the point of being uncomfortable.

He breathes out of his nose, trying to calm the rage boiling inside of him at your words. He tries to focus on you in his arms, keeping you safe and comfortable while you tell him this. Your voice sounded pained and he couldn’t say he blamed you. “For how long?” He asks, eyes squeezing closed as images of the man hitting you filled his mind. “How long has he been doing this to you?”

You sniffle again, bringing one of your hands up to squeeze his forearm, trying to comfort your comforter. “Ten years..” You say, breath catching as he lets out a pained sound. “Minus the four years i was at boarding school..except for when i would come home on breaks..”

Gator doesn’t want to keep pushing you, pushing himself. He was really testing his own limits right now, everything in his body was telling him to go hunt that man down, give him a taste of his own medicine, but his mind was telling him not to. That you needed him. He breathes out a low sigh, breath shaky as he kisses the top of your head, breathing in the smell of your expensive ass shampoo. “Okay..why don’t you go take a hot shower,” He says, feeling you nod against his chest. “We can talk more about this later, if you want..” He could tell you were thankful for his words as when you finally sit up from his embrace, you give him a long kiss on the cheek, both hands cupping his face as you climb over him, whispering a soft thank you.

The one bathroom in the Tillman house isn’t luxurious like the one attached to your bedroom at Boyd’s, but it has a beautiful clawfoot tub, and it feels nice and cozy, comfortable. The water is hot too, reddening your skin as it washes down your shoulders and chest, trailing down the bruise below your breasts. The contact made you flinch, the image of Boyd giving it to you flashing before your eyes before the pain turned into something more soothing, the sting reminding you that you’re at Gator’s house and for the time being, you’re safe from him.

You take way longer than is probably polite when you’re a guest in someone’s home, and you’re glad that Karen isn’t here because you get the feeling that she would bitch about it, and it would somehow turn into you getting Gator in trouble without meaning to. You had forgotten to bring your shower gel from your bag in Gator’s room, so you use what you deduce is his from the smell, lathering yourself in it for a while before letting it run off of you under the fall of the water from the showerhead.

When you feel like yourself again, and you’ve let cool water run down your face to where you’re sure its no longer puffy, you make your way out of the bathroom and back across the hall to his room. He’s nowhere to be found, but the bed is messily made and the closet door is open, you notice a pair of jeans missing off the first hanger, and the smell of coffee finally hits your nose.

You put your pajamas under the pillow on the left side of the bed, you had only packed one pair, before making your way down the stairs, the sound of something scraping against a pan and hushed cursing meeting your ears before you reach the last step. You peek into the kitchen and a smile spreads on your face at the sight of Gator running a hand through his hair, smoke rising in front of his face as he turns every which way, talking to himself as he tries to fix whatever he had messed up. “I think you’re burning something, hon.” You quip, chuckling when he jumps about a foot in the air at the sound of your voice.

“Jesus Christ, need’ta put a damn bell around your neck,” He sighs, fighting back his own laugh. “I was trying to make a fuckin’ grilled cheese..” He shows you the contents of the pan thats in front of him, and you laugh at the pathetic lump of burnt bread and cheese.

“Did you butter it?” You ask, and he mutters another curse before groaning. “Who taught you how to cook, Gator?”

“Literally no one.” He says, tossing the burnt sandwich into the trash before moving out of your way.

You busy yourself making a sandwich for each of you, feeling hungry now that you’re actually in the action. You hear him rustling around behind you, the fridge opening and glasses clinking. You’re flipping both of the sandwiches in the large skillet when a full coffee mug is set next to you on the counter, clearly mixed with creamer.

“I stopped on my way home and bought some of that creamer stuff..” He says, you pretend not to notice how his cheeks flush as he says it. “I know it’s not an iced coffee, but at least its flavored.”

You’re not sure why you’re so goddamned emotional but you swear your eyes water at the notion. “That’s so sweet, you didn’t have to,” You say, going to give him another kiss on the cheek. You have to stand onto your tip toes this time, and he hums as you do. “Thank you, Gator.”

“Want you to have the things you like.” He shrugs, taking a big drink of his own mug of black coffee. He crinkles his nose, chasing after you with a small sniff that makes your cheeks flush. “Are you wearin’ my body wash?”

You shrug and move back to the stove, suddenly remembering the conversation you had had with his sisters when you were dropping them off at school this morning. “I promised your sister’s that i would make something for supper tonight,” You begin plating the sandwiches, switching the gas to the stove off. “Not that your spaghetti wasn’t good or anything, but i get the sense that cooking just isn’t your thing.”

You hand him his plate, he’s looking at you with an unfamiliar emotion in those damn brown eyes. “Can you make cheeseburgers?” He asks, an almost childlike lilt to his voice. You nodded in agreement and you swear he would have done a happy dance if he hadn’t spilled some of his hot coffee out of the mug and onto his hand. “Ah shit!”

It’s one thirty when by the time you guys finish with lunch and coffee and you set your plates in the sink with the notion of washing them later, you notice that Gator had already washed the plate you left for him this morning. “I think we’ll probably have to go to the supermarket on the way back from getting the girls..” You say, you had noticed earlier that there wasn’t any fresh meat for burgers in the fridge, and if that was what he wanted then it needed to be bought.

“Okay.” He says, checking his watch. You hear him sigh. “I got a few chores to do before we go to the school.” He gets up and starts heading for the door, you start pouting as you watch his retreating back. You didn’t want to be left alone in the house, it was boring without someone to annoy. “You comin’?”

You hum as you carry a bucket of feed to the chicken pen off yonder of the barn, it was heavier than you had told Gator, wanting him to think that you could do it on your own. He had already poked fun at you for never having done any real ranch chores outside of caring for your own horse before, you didn’t want him teasing you for having to carry a bucket of slightly heavy feed because you were too soft for it.

He had stayed behind in the barn, a large shovel in hand as he had decided that you were much too pretty to do the easier although definitely stinkier job of shoveling horse shit from the stalls. He sent you off with a teasing jilt about how you grew up on that fancy ranch and never done farm chores, before he put his stark county sheriff deputy hat on your head (the sun was awfully bright, ‘don’t need you goin’ blind’ he had said).

You rolled your eyes at him once you had turned away, muttering under your breath in mocking tones the word he had teased you with, though you regretted it almost as soon as you were out of sight of the barn. The feed was heavy, your arms were sore and your hands burned from where the wire handle was digging into your palms and you didn’t think it could have possibly gotten any worse, you didn’t think that you could have wished any harder that you had stayed back in the house to clean up from breakfast and lunch, until you walked into the chicken pen and sat the bucket of chicken feed down by your feet so you could turn around and close the door behind you, not wanting any of the birds to get loose.

You heard the fluttering of all their wings first, and then the little noises they made as if greeting you. “Hey little dudes,” You say, starting to turn around. “Who’s hungr- OH MY GOD!” You flew back against the door, not expecting ten birds to be right behind you, one already sat in the bucket of feed. How did they move that fast? You were pretty sure that they weren’t supposed to sit in the feed though, so gingerly and a little fearfully you tiptoed just the littlest bit closer to the feed bucket, your hands outstretched. “Hey little lady..let’s just-HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” The bird had fluttered it’s wings and snapped it’s beak at you as you tried to move it away from the food that the other birds needed too, it’s beady black eyes locked on yours. You swore it was looking into your soul and that was all you needed to get the fuck out of there with what was left of your life.

“GATOR, GATOR, GATOR!” His head snapped up in the direction that he heard your voice from, eyebrows furrowed. You sounded terrified. He stepped out of the horse stall he had started in, closest to the back exit just as you came barrelling into the barn, straight into him and his arms and damn near knocking him over in the process. You babbled as he steadied the two of you, his hands on your biceps as you looked up at him with big, watery eyes looking up at him and your lips puckered so deep in a frown that he just couldn’t help but to smile at how fuckin’ adorable it was.

“Slow down, Pearlie, can’ understand what you’re sayin’ when you’re babblin’ like that..” He says, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps gently, trying his best to soothe you. He was new to this whole thing, but he had learned fairly quickly earlier that soothing words and touches and a calm tone seemed to be best with you. He watched you take a big, deep breath in and let it out, a small sniffle and your lips puckered just a little bit less.. “Start again, hon..what happened? What’s got you so spooked, hm?”

“The birds, Gator!” You say, voice wavering. “They attacked me!” He immediately check’s every inch of available skin for talon marks, anything that resembled an attack, but aside from the emotions on your face you were otherwise unscathed..his eyebrows furrow again. “Gator..they..they were waiting for me when i turned around and it..it was sitting in the feed bucket and i..i just..i went to move it and it yelled at me..it yelled at me, Gator and it fucking like..fluttered it’s wings at me and it had friends!”

Here you were telling your fiance about the horror movie level ordeal you had been through, and what does he do? He laughs. Laughs! Head thrown back, shoulders shaking and gut hurting laughing at you. You smack his chest. “Stop laughing!” You say and you swear he only laughs harder at you, which pisses you off. “Gator Tillman you fuck head stop laughing at me!”

“Oh, Pearlie girl..” He sighs, wiping a tear from his eyes with the back of his hand as he finally stops laughing, hand rubbing his side as he shakes his head. “You afraid of the fuckin’ chickens?” You pout and he starts laughing again until you start hitting his chest with the hat he had put on your head, which makes him hold his hands up in surrender before taking it gently from your hand. “They’re just fuckin’ birds, hon, just kick ‘em they ain’t gonna hurt you none..”

“Bullshit, Gator,” You stomp your foot, arms crossing over your chest as you glare at him. “You didn’t see the way they all looked at me!” He shakes his head at you, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “They were talking! They probably planning how they were gonna kill me and eat my body and feed my bones to the hogs!”

“Pearl, we don’t even have hogs!” He exclaims, completely done with your buffoonery at this point, though he knows it’s not buffoonery. He knows how real it is, can tell by the fear in your face and he knows that he shouldn’t make fun of you for it but it just seems like something a husband would do to his wife. “Oh my god I know the Augastine ranch is ritzy but i figured he would’ve had you working with the ranch hands like my daddy did..this is fuckin’ hilarious..”

“Gator!” You pout, stomping your foot once more and he only starts laughing once more, cackling once you push him in the chest on your way past him. “You go feed the damned demons then! I’ll shovel horse shit, can’t be any scarier!”

And shovel the shit you did until it was time to go and pick up his sisters from school, a car trip of which was filled with him poking more fun at you from the drivers seat of your own car! You were downright tempted to salt his macaroni and burn his burger tonight for supper, but you could never stand to mess up on purpose when it came to the kitchen.

The girls clambering into the Jeep at the school pick up took the attention off of your harrowing ordeal this afternoon, their chatterbox selves keeping Gator entertained as he drove through town on the way to the supermarket. Roy had enlisted the girls into he local christian academy, a private school and you made a mental note to ask Gator later tonight if he went to the same school too, if the highschool is where he got the trophies in his room from.

The supermarket was an ordeal in its self. The girls constantly asking Gator for something that he would exasperatedly say to put back where they found it, and it you swore that the amount of people you guys stopped to talk to, who were shocked that the rumor of Gator being engaged was true, caused what should have been a thirty-minute trip to turn into an almost two hour one. Each time a random couple or person whom you didn’t know (but he clearly did) stopped the pair of you, his arm would be immediately around your shoulder or your waist, tucking you into his side tightly. You would find your own arm or hand across his broad back with such ease it was as if you had been doing it for years, as if you guys had had a conventional engagement rather than having signed on a dotted line for your parents. It was safe to say that by the time Gator had pulled up next to his police cruiser, you were both exhausted.

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, listening as Gator helped his sisters with their homework so that they wouldn’t have to do it over the weekend. “Look, i thought it was stupid too, but i promise you, you my step-mama always told me it’s better to do weekend homework on friday so that you have the whole weekend to play and do fun things..” He had said, trying to convince them to sit down and pay attention. You thought it was rather sweet to hear him with them, he always seemed so cold and distant when his father was around but hearing when he wasn’t was another thin. You loved how warm and happy he was, how hands on he was. You knew that you were supposed to have a child of your own with him, it was part of the agreement, and you were a little more comfortable with that fact knowing that he was gentle.

By the time the sun had gone down and the four of you had sat down to eat, Gator praising and moaning into his plate the whole time, it was a meal filled with laughter and stories of how everyone’s days had went, which was all fine and dandy until your fiance had decided to tell his younger twin sisters the story of your harrowing encounter with the murderous devil chickens just before coming to pick them up from school, to which they had laughed and laughed and in all fairness, you couldn’t help but laugh a little too because now that you thought about it, it was a little silly the way that you had reacted.

Not more than an hour or so after that you were stood at the kitchen sink, the water running and your phone on the counter beside you just barely drowning out the noise of the piano being playing in the living room as you cleaned up the mess that had been made throughout the day. You hummed along to one of the songs, realizing that you needed to start working on a playlist for the wedding, as you scrubbed the dishes.

You didn’t hear his footsteps approaching, but you felt his presence, felt his bicep brushing against your shoulder as he stepped up to the sink right next to you. You looked up at him with a small smile on your face when you noticed the dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, and the other in his hands as he picks up a dish from the clean side of the sink to start drying it.

“Supper was good,” He says quietly, arm brushing against your own as you both worked. It made your skin buzz, that tingly feeling, you didn’t mind it though, there was something quite soothing about it. “Thank you for cooking..and for putting up with the girls..and me too i suppose.”

You chuckle, handing him a dish you had just finished washing when the song on your playlist changes, you pause it quickly recognizing the opening notes of it and turn to him. “Hey Gator?” You ask, and he hums, looking down at you as you turn off the faucet. “Dance with me?”

He was going to say no, to argue about how it wasn’t very manly, but you already had your mouth open. “We’re gonna have to have to dance at the wedding, and i want to make sure you’re not gonna be stepping on my foot the whole night!”

Now he wouldn’t come out straight and tell it to you, but he had taken a class or two during prom season back in highschool, for that girl he swore he was in love with. “Fine.” He concedes, tossing the towel down onto the counter as you bounce with happiness.

You click your playlist back on as you feel one of his large hands on your hip, turning you against his chest as he takes one of your hands with his free one, your other hand going up to his shoulder, just below the nape of his neck. It was an oddly comfortable embrace, nothing awkward about it as he started moving the two of you gently around the kitchen.

‘I'd love to know just what you're thinkin'

Every little river, runnin' through your mind

You give and you take

You come and you go

You leave me here wonderin' if I'll ever know

How much you care or how much you don't

Whatever you need, whatever you want’

“You’re not so bad at this,” You say, looking up into those damn brown eyes, those giant glassy eyes that hold so many emotions that you wish he would let you get to know. And maybe he will, somewhere down the line, but you know it won’t be any time soon.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” He teases, a smirk crossing his lips as he looks down at you, humming along to the song as he leads you around the room. It wasn’t any particular kind of dance, but it was a formal one none the less. “This what we gonna dance to at the weddin’?” He asks softly, a pink tinge to his cheeks as he thinks about dancing with you for the first time as his wife. You shrug in response, body pressing against him as he continues to lead you.

“Maybe..” You tease and he chuckles, his head tipping back just a bit before he plants his eyes right back on yours. “Haven’t decided yet..i’m makin’ a playlist..”

‘I guess that all I'm tryin' to tell ya

Is a minute with you is better than two without

Oh, I won't be a fool but I can't play it cool

So I'm playin' safe and I'm breakin' the rules

I'm wishin' I had what I know that you got

So if you're comin' my way then please don't stop’

“And do i get a say about this playlist?” He asks and you throw your head back laughing. “The one part of the wedding planning that i might actually know what the hell i’m doing.” You’re both full on laughing now, still locked in the dancing embrace though you’ve stood still. It takes a minute for you guys to calm down as you keep teasing him about the ivory and white situation, but when you finally do he gives a gentle kiss to your forehead, chuckling as he tells you to help him finish the dishes.

The two of you continue to make each other laugh as you guys do the dishes together, Gator singing off key to the music he recognizes on whatever playlist you have going, you teasing him for it, both of you blissfully unaware that his two sisters had seen your whole dancing exchange and had run off to the living room to talk excitedly about how much they already adored having you in the family..

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