#has just asked him to do something that she's never asked before
Text
bad habits. (m.l)
pairing. mark lee x fem!reader
genre. smut
word count. 6.5k
❝you know you're my favourite.❞
content warnings. explicit content, toxic behaviour from reader and mark, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, indications of dealer!mark, manhandling, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, mean!mark, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie.
Don’t look at him.
You mentally tell yourself as you tear your eyes away from Mark who enters the house party with a girl at his side, capturing a glimpse in your peripheral vision the way his hand rests at the bottom of her back as he leads her through the crowded room.
Stop looking at him.
You tell yourself again when your gaze inevitably draws back to him, find yourself staring at him from across the room, watching as he greets his friends with boyish handshakes and welcoming pats on the back before he settles down on the couch once they made room for him, the girl following closely behind and smoothly sliding her perfectly manicured hands on his thigh.
Stop.
Your tongue prods at your cheek in annoyance as you watch how close they lean into each other to speak, how his words seem to make her giggle and she tucks her hair behind her ears when he smiles at her, clearly enjoying his obvious flirtatious comments and your grip tightens around the cup you’ve been nursing the entire night, pulling your eyes away from the scene when his gaze finally meets yours.
The relationship you have with Mark is something you have never experienced before, but a relationship you weren’t too keen on letting go of anytime soon. Mark’s a friend; a friend who you sometimes rely on when things go south, a friend who picks you up in his car for late-night takeout runs and smoke weed until the sun rises, and a friend who you actively sleep with just to get rid of that dull ache between your thighs.
You hate how he knows your body, sometimes even better than you know yourself. You hate how easy it is for him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, igniting something within you that leaves you breathless and yearning for more. You hate how his touch leaves you desperate, craving for more than just his hands. You hate how his eyes alone can have you on your knees, the heavy weight of his cock resting on your tongue.
You can’t help but think that you have some sort of effect on him too, finding it amusing how easy it was to get him alone with you, to make him drop whatever he was doing just to be in your presence. It does, admittedly, bring you a lot of satisfaction in knowing that you may have some kind of hold over him like he does with you.
Although, there have been a handful of moments where he has ignored or rejected you, much like tonight.
You were the one that had invited him to come to this party when your best friend had first mentioned it.
You were the one that brought it up to him during an intimate encounter in the backseat of his car, asking him to accompany you only to be shut down and told that he wasn’t interested in some lame house party, and instead had something else planned for that night.
Before you even arrived at the party, you saw the Snapchat story posted by the girl who is currently clinging to his side like a leech. The image was blurry, but you could make out her holding two joints, with a caption thanking Mark and promising a fun night, while tagging his username. At first, you figured it was a deal, being aware that Mark sometimes sells his weed on the side for extra cash, but you never expected that the ‘something else’ he had planned would involve bringing her to a party he rejected coming to in the first place.
It honestly made you fucking pissed.
You mentally chastise yourself to get a grip and you scoff, tilting your head back and gulping down the rest of your drink, the alcohol searing your throat and momentarily distracting you from your own fiery emotions. You lower the cup, swiping the back of your hand at the corner of your lips, wiping away any lingering traces of liquid just as your best friend nears you with a drunken flush.
“Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Yunjin exclaims as she flings her arms around your shoulders for a hug, but her embrace falters as she notices the expression on your face. “What’s happened?”
“I’m out,” You say, gesturing towards your empty cup with a tight lipped smile, trying to hold yourself back from admitting—“Oh, and Mark’s here.”
“I thought he said no to coming?” Yunjin’s brows knit together in confusion and she glances over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Mark and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but her expression quickly shifts to one of exasperation as she rolls her eyes and directs her attention back to you. “Are we really surprised? Come on, you know exactly what he’s like!”
“I know.” You hate it.
“He’s always been like this!”
“I know.” You really hate it.
Yunjin takes a moment to stare at you before she sighs, arms crossing over her front, “Yet it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re thinking about him right now.”
She’s got you there. “I know…”
Yunjin firmly places her hands on your cheeks, gripping with enough force to have you stare straight into her eyes, “Forget about him. He’s just some guy you’re sleeping with occasionally, and you know what that means?” You blink in response. “It means you’re single and free to sleep with anyone you want! We’re here to have fun, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”
She’s right. Of course she’s right. Her words bring a genuine smile to your face and you nod in agreement, determined to not let something so silly ruin your night.
Yunjin wastes no time when she leaves, quickly returning back to you with fresh drinks and tapping her cup against yours with a mischievous grin. You both take a few hearty sips, allowing the alcohol to course through your veins and lighten your mood, head buzzing as she slips her fingers through yours to tug you away from your current position.
You mingle with a few of her other friends you’re familiar with, diving deep in conversations, laughing at jokes shared among the group, throwing flirtatious comments here and there when someone shows clear interest in you.
But you weren’t interested in them.
Not at all.
Not when you can still see Mark in your line of vision, who remains his position on the couch, engrossed in his own conversation with his friends and the girl who has yet to leave his side, seemingly unwilling to leave.
Your jaw locks tight when Mark occasionally meets your gaze, rubbing his palms on his thighs and shifting in his seat, manspreading as he relaxes back against the cushions. Your eyes narrow, fighting the urge to roll them when the girl beside him snuggles in closer, offering a smile that could make anyone swoon, but he’s not even looking at her now.
He’s fully looking at you.
Mark’s head tilts to the side, the corner of his lips lifting into a subtle smile, leaving you with a mix of conflicting emotions that makes your head spin. On one hand, there’s a part of you that wants to wipe that look off of his face, fueled by your annoyance and frustration. But on the other hand, there’s a part of you that can’t help but be drawn to that smile, wanting to bask in the attention and keep his gaze fixed on you and you only.
A bitter taste lingers on the tip of your tongue as Mark’s gaze is taken away from you, watching as he leans his head down to listen attentively to the girl who whispers in his ear, her fingertips resting against his jawline to keep him in close. A forced laugh escapes your lips, the sound tinged with bitterness and your tongue prods at the inside of your cheek.
You rip your attention away from the pair, redirecting your focus to Yunjin who looks at you with a confused expression, clearly bewildered by your sudden laughter and you try to shake off that ugly feeling that has settled within you, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Yunjin spots that immediately.
She calls out your name softly, wanting to question your odd behaviour but her words come to a halt when the guy beside you grabs the attention of the group. Was it Dohyun? Dowon? You can’t remember, and frankly you don’t really care enough to remember. But you remain quiet as he speaks, asking if anyone knows where he can purchase weed at the party, if there is anyone who knows who he can buy from as he assures that he has the cash.
Mark. The name flickers in your mind almost instantly and you meet Yunjin’s gaze, watching as she subtly shakes her head at you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.
“I know someone,” You announce and Yunjin’s shoulders sag as she sighs deeply. You ignore her reaction as you extend your hand towards the guy, “Give me the money. I’ll go get it.”
“Are you sure?” He asks in surprise, hesitating for a moment despite already having the bills ready in the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind getting it—”
“It’s fine.” You cut him off abruptly, curling your fingers around the bills to take into your own hands. You turn on your heels, making a beeline directly towards Mark as you slip through the crowd, pushing through the bodies with determination and fire coursing through your veins, fingers grasping the money tighter just as you get closer, eyes locked in on Mark as he watches you near.
As you stand in front of him, your gaze involuntarily shifts to the girl by his side, tongue clicking against your teeth with bitterness tinging your thoughts as you observe her shuffling closer. Her hand is now resting on Mark’s bicep, fingers sinking into the fabric of his hoodie.
The sight alone stirs a mixture of annoyance, frustration and jealousy in the pit of your stomach and in the moment, you find yourself in an internal struggle to either make some snarky or bitchy comment in hopes to get Mark to understand how pissed off you truly are, or to continue with what you were originally here for.
“Pre-rolls.” Is what you say with a monotone and direct voice, deciding to get straight to the point, extending your hand as you show Mark the money, making your intention clear.
Mark’s eyes briefly lower to the money before returning to meet yours, “For you or for someone else?”
“Does it matter?” You reply back sharply. “Pre-rolled joints, please.”
“For someone else then,” You hear Mark mutter beneath his breath as he digs inside the pocket of his pants to pull out exactly what you needed, but he’s quick to pull it out of reach as you go to snatch it from his grasp. Your frustration grows within you as you glare at him, but he takes no notice of your expression as he asks, “Are you smoking too?”
“Obviously.”
You watch as Mark reaches back into his pocket and your demeanour shifts slightly as he pulls out another batch of pre-rolls, ones you’re all too familiar with as you see the pink coloured skins. He knows you prefer spliffs over joints. You want to continue being annoyed and angry with how he knows you all too well but yet, deep down, your heart can’t help but thump wildly in your chest and a flutter of warmth swirls in the pit of your stomach at the seemingly thoughtful gesture.
You bite down on your tongue, not wanting to let him know how much that simple action affected you so much, “I don’t have enough money for two.”
“You don’t pay for yours anyways.” Mark states matter-of-factly as he takes the money for one pre-roll and hands you the two. It’s true, you think, curling your fingers around the two pre-rolls he has given you. You’ve never paid him when asking for a smoke, he doesn’t let you pay him.
“You giving out freebies?” The girl beside him speaks up for the first time, her tone playful as she decides to jump in on the conversation. She nudges Mark’s shoulder as she teases, “Pink skins too? How come I don’t get that treatment?”
“Because I’m his favourite,” You find yourself replying before your brain could register it, sending her a forced tight lipped smile as she looks up at you in surprise, not expecting you to be the one to respond. But you couldn’t care less. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“I was talking more about the pink skins,” She snips back at you and your tongue prods at your cheek once again, fighting off the urge to laugh as she turns to look at Mark as she smiles. “I like pink.”
“They’re for her.” Mark says as he gestures towards you with a nod of his head. The girl’s face drops, her smile completely fading and a sense of satisfaction washes over you. You offer her a sweet, sickly smile in return before leaving the scene, heading straight back to your group who are patiently waiting for you to come back.
Yunjin comes to stand beside you as you hand the joint over to Dowon (you managed to overhear his name as you were nearing closer to the group.) and he grins in victory, thanking you with a wet, dramatic smooch to your cheek before lighting it up, taking a drag and passing it around the group.
Yunjin leans her head down, disappointment clear in her tone as she speaks to you in hushed whispers, ridiculing you for suggesting Mark in the first place, but her tone soon shifts to curiosity and wonder, wanting to know what happened between you and Mark, and what you both had spoken about.
You were partially honest with your answer, replying that the only topic of conversation was about the deal and you were able to get exactly what you wanted and more as you showed her your own little gift. She grins, bumping her shoulder to yours proudly before jumping in conversation with the others, taking the joint out of another's hand while you tuck yours away in your purse, saving it for later.
You had enough.
The irritation you felt becomes unbearable, unable to be masked by the alcohol coursing through your veins.
The sight of Mark and the girl still in the same position on the couch; sitting close, sharing whispers and smiles. It gnaws at you despite your failed attempts to bury them with distractions, dancing with others, kissing others with lingering touches.
You’ve reached your breaking point.
You wish you were drunk enough to ignore everything and continue on with the night, but unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case.
You wanted to leave.
Most importantly, you wanted to leave with him.
You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It would certainly be easier to leave without him or even find someone else to go home with—Yunjin or some random stranger. But honestly, you couldn’t care less about the easy options. You never cared.
Abandoning your half-empty cup without a second thought, you leave Yunjin behind, not even bothering to fill her in on what you’re about to do. The sound of her questioning fades into the background as you make your way towards the living room area with a determined stride.
As you approach closer, a sense of tunnel vision takes over; everything else seems to fade into the background too, sounds becoming distant whispers or muted, completely overshadowed by your own thoughts and emotions.
You begin to second guess how this upcoming conversation would go, if Mark would actually leave with you this time if you asked. After all, he said no to coming here with you, so why would he agree to leave with you?
You internally scowl at yourself for even thinking about something so negatively.
He’s wrapped around your finger just as much as you’re wrapped around his.
“I’m leaving,” You declare as soon as you stand in front of Mark, not even giving him enough time to react to your sudden appearance. He remains unbothered, his gaze meeting yours as he lifts a soda can to his lips. His eyebrow raises in response and without missing a beat, you continue, “Come home with me.”
The girl sitting beside Mark reacts with utter disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she scoffs at your audacity, eyebrows knitting together at your words but you’re unfazed by her reaction. It doesn’t make you feel bad at all, not as your focus remains on Mark, waiting for his response.
And in that moment, you feel a sense of victory and satisfaction swell in your chest when Mark gives a simple nod of his head and rises from the couch, reaching in his pocket for his car keys as he bids his friends a goodbye.
“Wait!” The girl exclaims as she interrupts, tone filled with desperation and her hand shoots out, gripping Mark’s upper arm tightly, halting his movements. Her eyes shift towards you at first, giving you a harsh look before turning her attention back to Mark, “Are you serious right now? You were my ride here. How am I supposed to get home?”
You hold yourself back, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from responding, though your annoyance is clearly visible on your face. You keep silent, watching as Mark’s face remains impassive, retrieving his car keys from his pocket.
“That’s not my problem,” He states bluntly, removing her grip from his arm without hesitation, words devoid of any sympathy. “You’ll figure it out.”
The girl’s jaw drops even further, shocked at Mark’s sudden change in attitude and tone. A smug grin finds its way onto your lips, unable to contain that satisfaction bubbling within you and you wave your fingers in her direction as Mark’s arm finds its way around your waist, resting his hand on your hip as he leads you out of the area.
As you’re leaving the building, Yunjin’s disappointed gaze lingers on you, but still mouths for you to be careful and gestures for you to call her when you get home. You nod in acknowledgement, blowing her a kiss before turning away and leaving her behind.
The cold air brushes against your burning skin, but your mind is preoccupied with a whirlwind of angry thoughts and unanswered questions, the scowl is clear on your face. Mark leads the way, guiding you towards his parked car in silence.
It’s deafening and you hate it, intensifying the frustrations that simmer within you. You’re getting angrier.
You climb into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with enough force it rattles the car. Mark, who seems completely oblivious to your anger or just isn’t taking any notice, takes his place in the driver's seat, and his ongoing silence fuels your irritation even more.
Without sparing you a glance, Mark inserts the key into the ignition and twists it, setting the car’s engine rumbling to life. His attention is on the dashboard as he presses a few buttons to turn on the radio, playing a song you’re all too familiar with but not in the mood to vibe along with like you usually would.
Your frustration grows further when Mark casually drapes one arm around the back of your seat, focussing behind the vehicle as he reverses and then pulls out of the parking space, the car gradually gaining momentum as it merges onto the road.
Setting back into your seat, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your gaze alternates between the side of Mark’s face and the road ahead. You’re aware that it would be best to stay quiet and allow yourself to calm down before questioning him, yet the curiosity mixed with annoyance within you refused to be silenced. You bite down on your tongue hard.
You can’t.
“Thought you weren’t coming tonight,” You finally speak, unable to hold back your words. The bitterness seeps into your voice as you continue, “I thought you weren’t interested in ‘some lame house party’.”
Mark’s response comes with a nonchalant tone that irks you, “I’m not,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I had things planned, but plans changed.”
“So you decided to come to the party, which I invited you to, with a girl?” You question, unable to hide the tinge of jealousy in your voice.
Mark glances at you briefly, a smirk playing on his lips. His audacity strikes a nerve and you release a dry laugh, your tongue prodding at your cheek in disbelief.
“Sora was one of the people that I was dealing with tonight,” Mark explains, his words casual. “Donghyuck texted me while I was at her house that he was at this party and wanted to buy weed. I told him I’d drop by and give him some.”
Sora. Her name makes your face scrunch up in displeasure. “Right. Then you somehow ended up coming to the party with Sora and stayed for the majority of the night.”
Mark grins, teeth biting down on his bottom lip, “She was actually planning to go to the party after she saw me. But once she found out that I was heading there, she asked if she could ride with me. I drove her, and when I realised Donghyuck wasn’t outside, I was going to leave. Then Sora said she’d help me find him inside, so I went in.”
You mutter under your breath, the words escaping in a frustrated whisper, “Still doesn’t explain why you stayed.”
“I got caught up with friends,” Mark responds simply, his hand reaching over the centre console to rest on top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers. His touch attempts to sooth you, his voice softening. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad,” You lie through your teeth. “Just wish you would’ve at least told me you were coming or came up and said hello when you arrived.”
“I’m sorry,” His apology is minimal, but his tone sounds sincere as his thumb draws circles on your skin. ”Like I said, I wasn’t planning on staying.” Mark takes a quick glance over at you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “You’re wearing that dress I like, baby… walking up to you and saying hello wouldn’t be the first thing I’d do.”
You hum at that, twisting in your seat to face him, “And what would you do?”
“The same thing I did the last time I saw you at a party.”
The low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and your thighs squeeze together to relieve that sudden ache in your cunt, vividly remembering that night where he tugged you upstairs and fucked you in someones bathroom, not caring that the mirror rattled against the walls and belongings of all sorts had fallen off the counter, creating a mess on the floor that neither of you bothered to clean up when leaving.
“I don’t remember,” You lie, giving him a glossy smile. “I think you have to remind me.”
Mark looks out into the open road, “Do you see a bathroom anywhere?”
“Funny,” You roll your eyes, but you lean over to brush your fingers over his crotch. “You can just remind me here—”
“We’re not fucking in my car,” His words make your eyebrows raise in shock, your mouth ajar as you scoff before ripping your hand away. Mark smiles, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Last time we were in here, you ruined my seats. The shit cost too much to clean, baby.”
You’re bitter as you reply, “You didn’t seem to complain before when you were desperate to make me cum over and over again.”
Mark’s laughter fills the car, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he shakes your head at your bitter attitude. The sound gets on your nerves immensely. You scoff, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, and you direct your gaze out the window, intentionally ignoring him for the rest of the journey.
As the car turns onto your street and your home comes into view, you reach for the seatbelt. Once Mark parks the car outside your house, you swiftly unbuckle and slip out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut with a force that rattles it. The sound of Mark’s laughter only further irritates you.
With your house key in hand, you unlock the door and step inside, feeling Mark’s presence behind you. His warmth brushes against your back, but you refuse to acknowledge it, striding towards your room. Standing in front of your vanity table, you remove your sparkly earrings, your focus solely on the task at hand as you chew your inner cheek with a scowl.
“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” Mark drawls, his voice reaching your ears. You raise your head to meet his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. He leans against the door frame, a smirk playing on his lips, despite the feigned upset tone in his voice. He continues, “You told me to come home with you, and now you’re giving me this treatment? All because I wouldn’t fuck you in my car? You’re cold, baby.”
You huff quietly, even though you know deep down that Mark’s words hold some truth. You continue to stay quiet, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it back in its designated spot.
Mark’s tongue pokes at his cheek as he continues, “I could’ve just stayed with Sora—”
You immediately bristle, and you whirl around to face him. “You’re not funny.”
Mark’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling. “Got you to finally talk to me, though.”
You let out a forced laugh, your hands planted firmly on your hips as you stare at Mark. “You know what? You can go. I don’t care. Go. Go back to the party and spend the rest of your night with Sora.”
“Hey,” Mark’s response is immediate as he moves towards you, standing right in front of you. His fingers reach up to grasp your jaw, the cool sensation of his rings against your warm skin. He playfully shakes your head, and a part of you wants to push him away, but you remain still, unable to resist him. “Enough, a’ight? You know I’d rather be here with you anyways.”
And you do. Deep down, you know that. But you love pushing his buttons, especially with the thrill it gives you.
Pressing further, you challenge him. “Do I really?”
Mark’s voice hums with confidence. “Of course you do. You know you’re my favourite.”
You blink, “So there are others?”
Mark sucks in a breath, his grip of your jaw tightening as a playful warning. You can’t help but grin, pleased in your ability to get under his skin so easily. “Pain in my ass, I swear.”
A giggle escapes your lips as your arms wrap around his shoulders, and his hand releases your jaw, sliding down to rest at the base of your spine. His fingers put gentle pressure, urging you closer, and you willingly comply as you allow your chest to press against his.
Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck, the grin on your lips unyielding as you continue to taunt him. “Pain in your ass, yet you still can’t get enough of me,” You then feign surprise. “Don’t tell me you like me, Mark?”
“Yeah, yeah, you wish.” Mark mutters dismissively, his head dipping down as he crushes his lips against yours in a heated kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your veins. You respond eagerly without a moment of hesitation, matching his fervour, your lips moving in perfect sync.
Mark’s hand glides up from your lower spine to firmly grip the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him. The sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you fist the material of his hoodie in your grasp, ensuring that he stays close to you.
As the kiss deepens, you feel a gentle nip of his teeth on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp at the pinch. Your lips part, giving him an invitation for his tongue to slip inside your mouth. The taste of him, the mingling of your breath, it’s intoxicating to you, and you want more.
The force of his kisses pushing your back against your vanity table, the impact causing a few of your belongings to clatter to the ground. But you pay no mind, your focus is solely on Mark who stands between your parted thighs, his hands sliding beneath the bottom of your dress.
“Lift your hips a lil f’me.” Mark orders you, and you listen. With his fingers that hook under the band of your panties, he pulls them down in one swift movement, discarding the material carelessly to the side before his arm hooks around your back.
You yelp in surprise as he effortlessly lifts you up from the vanity table, and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips to make sure you don’t fall, but it doesn’t matter when Mark drops you on the bed with a bounce.
Before you can fully register what happened, Mark’s hands curl around your ankle and he tugs you to the edge of the bed, and you watch with parted lips as his hand moves between your thighs to drag his middle finger through your slit.
“You’re fucking soaked…” Mark hums as he lowers himself down, gazing up at you from your parted thighs. A silent gasp leaves your lips as his two fingers sink into your tight, wet heat. “You had so much to say earlier, and now you’re quiet. Feels too good?”
“Just shut up.” You bite back, and a smile breaks out onto Mark’s face, sending you a wink before he leans down and swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, plunging his fingers into your cunt at a steady rhythm.
Airy moans leave you as you try to watch Mark, but his free hand slowly creeps up your body and pushes down at your chest, making you fall back against the mattress with a huff. You’re reminded of the dress that’s still clinging to your body, making you regret not taking it off sooner, but all of your worries and problems are pushed to the side when you feel Mark’s drape your legs over his shoulders, closing him in.
“Fu—ah,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back arches off the bed. You’re unable to use your words, lost in the feeling of Mark sucking at your clit and his fingers curling in your spongy walls, brushing over that spot that has your thighs tightening around his head.
One hand grips the bedsheets, and your other lands on top of his hair, threading your fingers through the overgrown strands and you tug, eliciting a groan from his chest. You’re grinding your pussy against his face, desperate for more, and he doesn’t seem to mind, allowing you to use him as you please.
Until your legs soon fall from his shoulders when Mark forces them apart, spreading you out in front of him when he feels your climax approaching, and he leans back as he watches his fingers pump into you. The speed in which his fingers move has your legs closing around his hand, and his tongue clicks against his teeth in a sound of disapproval.
“Keep them open,” Mark warns you, and when you fail to listen, his fingers slow down, causing you to glare at him. “Don’t look at me like that. What did I just say?” Your legs part, and Mark nods his head. “That’s right…”
He picks up speed, and he drives his fingers inside your cunt, a grin playing on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on yours, staring down at your face as he leans over you. You gasp when his thumb rubs your clit for stimulation, and you immediately cum.
The squelching sound of your wetness is heard throughout the room along with your wailing, your body shakes and walls contract around his fingers. He’s laughing as he fingers you through your orgasm, watching as your body trembles and your hips rut against his hand.
You cry out in pleasure, your body shaking and your brain fuzzy as Mark fingers you through your high, and laughs as he watches you tremble, your hips rutting against his hand before you slump back, trying to catch your breath.
Mark removes his fingers from your sensitive cunt, and you watch through hazed vision as he sucks them clean. The sight alone is enough to have a surge of energy rush through your veins, and you sit up to pull him into a kiss. Mark groans when your tongue slides into his mouth, and when he kneels in between your thighs, he takes hold of your wrist and guides your hands towards his belt.
You immediately know what he wants you to do, and you comply. You unbuckle his belt hastily through hungry kisses, and make quick work of the button and zipper, tugging the material down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers.
Usually, you would’ve completely rid him of his clothes and yourself. But on this specific night, you were too desperate to have him to go through with the task, and Mark seems to be feeling the same when he suddenly throws you around.
You huff as the air is knocked out of your lungs when you’re flipped onto your tummy, and you turn your head to the side, cheek mushed against your pillow as you watch Mark through your lashes. He’s fisting his cock, tip leaky and red, spreading his precum around the base. He taps his cock on your puffy folds and you squirm, an irritated whine leaving your lips to which Mark smirks at.
You grit through your teeth, “Hurry up.”
“Just admiring the view,” Mark cheekily replies, giving you a wink before his cock nudges between your folds. “Breathe.” He instructs you.
You bite back the remark that’s resting on the tip of your tongue, and you inhale deeply, only to let out a drawn out moan when Mark pushes himself inside, the familiarity of him stretching out your cunt making your toes curl and fingers grip the bed sheets.
Once he’s fully seated inside your warmth, buried in you to the hilt, you feel his ringed hands slide up your spine beneath your dress, his blunt fingernails pressing into your skin as he drags his hand back down before gripping your hips, keeping you still as he begins to thrust.
“So wet ‘n tight for me, baby…” Mark grunts, pinching your hips. He lays a firm slap on your ass, “So good f’me. Always so good.”
He repeatedly pumps in and out of you, gradually picking up his speed, and you find yourself moaning with each deep thrust of his hips. You fuck yourself back onto his cock when you feel his grip loosen on you, and your volume increases, mewling at the feeling of Mark’s cock fucking you so deep that it makes your head feels fuzzy.
You pant, “I wan’ more.”
“More?” Mark repeats with a chuckle, and his lips curl into a grin as he watches your ass bounce back on his cock. “I’m already deep inside your guts, what more could you want?”
You give him a dark glare in warning, “Mark—”
“You already cum once too,” Mark tsks, and you feel his hand slip around your waist to slot between your thighs. You shiver when you feel the pads of his ringed fingers brush over your puffy clit, “Fucking greedy, aren’t you? You take, take, take…”
You gasp as his fingers start rubbing slow circles, and your pussy clamps around his cock. “Ah!”
“Good thing I’ll always give you what you want, right?”
Your mouth hangs open, and your eyebrows knit together from the stimulation of Mark’s cock fucking into you and rubbing your clit, the pleasure building. He’s grunting loudly behind you, his free hand giving harsh taps to your ass and soothing over the sore area.
It surprises you slightly when Mark’s hips slows down for a moment as he bends over you to press a wet smooch to your cheek, but you crane your neck awkwardly to capture his lips in a kiss, only lasting a few moments before he straightens and resumes his pace.
“Gonna cum for me, sweet thing?” Mark asks when he feels the walls of your cunt flutter around him, knowing all too well. You nod your head quickly, and Mark smiles as he pinches your clit, eliciting a squeal from you. “Wait.”
You gape at him, “Wai—you’re joking?”
He raises an eyebrow, “Do I look like I’m joking?”
“I can’t wait!” You bristle, shaking your head quickly, already feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy.
All Mark does is laugh at you, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he mutters about you always getting what you want, and you go to snap back to defend yourself, but the words fail to come out of your mouth when you feel his cock swell inside of your cunt, and with one harsh thrust of his hips, you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name.
He curses under his breath, trying his best to keep the momentum as he pushes further into your tightening walls, only for his orgasm to hit harshly. He’s hips jerk, his cock pumping you full of cum, and he’s breathing heavily as his hands rub your sides.
You’re sweaty and sticky, immediately regretting not taking off your dress the second he had you against the vanity table earlier. You grunt at the ache in your hips and lower back as Mark pulls his cock out of you, and you slump to the bed with a huff, allowing your body to relax while muttering quiet complaints.
Mark chuckles at your antics, and he reaches out, pressing his fingers into your lower back to massage you and you grin happily, melting at his touch.
“Spoilt,” Mark states, and you lift your hand to give him the middle finger in retaliation. Mark grins and continues his ministrations for a few more minutes before he lets you go, causing you to jut your bottom lip out into a pout as you turn to look at him. “Easy, girl. You need to go pee, and then we’re gonna go shower. Get you cleaned up.”
A smirk makes its way onto your face as you tease, “How chivalrous.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He waves dismissively at you, and he stands up from your bed. He offers a hand out to you and you take it, feeling his fingers clasp around yours as he pulls you up, and he wraps a steady arm around your waist as your feet touch the ground. “I still got some weed leftover from the party, I’ll roll when we’re done. Pink skins for the princess, right?”
Feeling smug and confident, you raise your head high. “Right.”
©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦
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(A/N: prt 3 of Mama Riley! One use of pronouns but it's nothing too gendered. Ignore any spelling error. I wrote part of this half asleep.)
Silence stretches out between you and Mama Riley. She's dropped an absolute bombshell of information so casually, as if it was like talking about the weather. And she's so confident in her statement, leaving no room for argument.
You're not entirely sure how to respond. But you manage to squeak out, “Is that so?” which is such a bad response. You can't help but cringe at yourself.
It makes Mama Riley laugh though. She really does like you. You're a firecracker, in her opinion, and she thinks you'd be good for Simon. But she promises that if you don't want to date him, that's okay. You two were friends before Simon caught feelings, and she won't let anything change that. She tells you to at least consider it.
You spend the next week considering it. Looking back over your interactions with Simon, knowing how he feels, it feels almost obvious. He's tense around you because he likes you. He keeps bringing you gifts and remembering your favorite drink because he likes you.
But where do your own feelings lie? You hated him in the beginning, and gradually warmed up to the mountain of a man. But do you have feelings for him? The thought process makes your head spin, and there's a weird feeling in your chest. The question is no closer to being answered.
Not until he returns from deployment. He's got a new scar on his ear, and there's a limp in his walk. Caught a knife in the side, just barely missed anything important, he informs you and his mum. And your heart clenches at the thought.
Before you can really think about it, you're scolding him for being so casual about being injured. He's got people who care about him, he can't be so flippant about these things. He has a reason to come home, so he needs to act like it. If not for his own sake, then for you and his mom.
Despite the fact that you're chewing him out, there's this tender look on his face, affection in his eyes. He quietly huffs out a ‘yes ma'am/sir’, and the warmth in his eyes is reflected by the warmth growing on your cheeks.
There's a pause, something heavy in the air. Simon opens his mouth, ready to say something, but the moment is broken when Mama Riley comes bustling into the living room, dinner plates in hand. Her eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, a knowing smile on her face. But she doesn't comment on anything, just passes out dinner and settles down on the loveseat.
Over the next few weeks, you and Simon have a lot of tense moments, ready to finally admit your feelings to each other. But each time is ruined by some interruption. Mama Riley interrupts, your phone rings. Once, the kids down the hall came running past, shrieking about the upcoming snowfall.
Poor Simon is trying not to totally lose it. This is the closest he's gotten to admitting his feelings, to have you finally, and every time something interrupts you. He doesn't want to mess this up. It needs to be perfect because, in his head, that's what you deserve, that's how he's going to win you over. Unbeknownst to Simon, he's already won your heart. He just needs to ask you out.
Once again, it's Mama Riley to the rescue. You three have a tradition: the days leading up to Simon's next deployment, you all spend the night at Mama Riley's flat together. Now, Simon's on leave for the next few weeks, but she can't bear to watch the two of you struggle like this.
So she invites you both over, insisting that it'll be nice to have you both over for something fun instead of sad. And then she conveniently remembers that she's got a book club tonight, and she leaves, telling you two to get comfy, watch a movie. She'll be back.
Now's a better time than never, especially since Mama Riley's practically given you the chance. She's gone all of two seconds, before you whip your attention onto Simon, blurting out, “Your mom told me you're in love with me. Is that true?”
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#listen his mom is lowkey fed up with y'all. get it together. she wants another grandchild.#my writing#mama riley au
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That’s That Me Espresso
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles and Y/N have been dating for a few weeks, they met after the Suzuka Grand Prix. Even though their relationship has been short lived, there’s something about her that has Charles down bad. They are living proof of how the boyfriend should always like the girlfriend more.
Warning: Grammatical and spelling errors
A/N: For those who voted for idea 2, about Charles being auctioned off for charity? Yeah, I'm not vibing with that idea anymore. But i am working on the fanfic where Charles thinks Y/N likes Lando.
Charles was never one to chase girls. Sure, in every relationship he was in, he was the best boyfriend he could be, he would be so devoted to them. But in his current relationship, he has never felt this way before. He was away for the Imola Grand prix and he couldn't sleep so he decided to call Y/N. After a few rings, she answered.
"Bueno?" Y/N asked sleepily.
"Hello, mon ange, did I wake you?" Charles asked.
"Sort of, is something wrong, Charlie?" Y/N asked.
"Oh nothing, I'm just having trouble sleeping without you here, you know?" Charles said.
"I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to this Grand Prix, cariño, i just have a lot of in-person meetings. Plus, you've been to countless races before, you would think you'd be used to sleeping alone." Y/N said.
"Yes, but that was before i met you. Now when i'm in bed alone, it feels like I'm missing something.” Charles confessed.
“You’re so sweet. But seriously, muñeco, you have media day in the morning, and I can’t have you be sleepy during the interviews, Fred would kill you.” Y/N said.
“No he wouldn’t, I’m il predestinato, the prince of Ferrari.” Charles said.
“Muñeco.” Y/N warned.
“Alright Mon ange, I’ll go to sleep, but please FaceTime me before you go to work.” Charles said.
“Of course, Charlie. Te quiero mucho, Goodnight.” Y/N said.
“Yo también te quiero, Goodnight.” Charles tried his best to say in Spanish and he hung up.
The next morning, Y/N woke up, showered, did her after shower routine, got dressed and she was about to make breakfast when Charles decided to FaceTime her. She answered.
“Muñeco, how are you? Did you get some sleep?” Y/N asked.
“I did actually, it took a while though.” Charles said.
“Well when you’re back in Monaco, I’ll be sleeping by your side.” Y/N said, she set her phone against something in the kitchen so she can make pancakes.
“Sounds perfect, I’ll be counting down the days.” Charles said.
“You think you’ll make podium?” Y/N asked.
“I’ll dedicate my podium to you, Mon ange.” Charles said. They kept talking while Y/N made her breakfast, Charles also took his phone with him to eat when his room service came so they had breakfast together,
“Charlie, baby, i need to go to work, okay, I’ll talk to you soon, te quiero.” Y/N said.
“Yo más.” Charles replied and hung up the call. There was a knock on his hotel room door and he opened it to see Carlos. “Good morning, Carlos.”
“Morning. Were you talking with Y/N?” Carlos asked
“Yes i was.” Charles replied smiling.
“Ay, I should have known, she has you completely smitten.” Carlos says.
“I know, mate, there’s just something about her.” Charles said, sighing like a person in love.
“You are whipped, it’s entertaining to see you like that. We need to head to paddock now for the interviews.” Carlos said before him and Charles left the hotel room.
Meanwhile, Y/N was finishing up her third meeting of the day when she got w FaceTime call from Y/N so she excused herself.
“Charlie querido, what is it? I’m technically still in a meeting.” Y/N said.
“Sorry Mon ange, I just wanted to see how you are, I am on break right now and then I have more interviews before the race,” Charles said.
“I’m fine, just a little tired, I call you later tonight okay? Then you can tell me all about your day. Te quiero.” Y/N said, blowing him a kiss.
“Yo más” Charles said, doing the same thing before hanging up. Y/N was about to enter the conference room again but she was stopped by her assistant.
“You got that man wrapped around your finger.” Monica commented,
“Well i wouldn’t necessarily say that I have him wrapped around my finger. Pero es si, lo tengo mal (But Yeah, i got him down bad).” Y/N said.
“How? Like what’s your secret?” Monica asked.
“There’s no secret, it’s just that me espresso.” Y/N said.
“Ha ha, no go, you have a meeting to run.” Monica said. Y/N entered the conference room to continue the meeting.
Her workday was done and she got a text from Charles and it was a link to one of his interviews. She clicked on it and she was watching it but there was a question that Charles answered that surprised her.
“Charles Leclerc, what is your favorite saying?” The interviewer asked.
“I Don’t know if it’s a popular saying or an actual saying in general, but my girlfriend says ‘that’s that me espresso’. When she was younger, her mom would say she was like a shot so espresso because of how hyper and energetic she was as a child, basically bouncing off the walls. So now when I ask her a question about anything she does, she’ll say that’s that me espresso or it’s just that me espresso, meaning that’s just how she is. How do I get crying babies to stop? That’s that me espresso, I have no idea but I guess I just have a calming presence.” Charles said laughing. Y/N stopped the video and FaceTimed Charles,
“Hey Muñeco.” Y/N said.
“Hello, ma Belle, did you see that interview?” Charles asked.
“I did, you used my phrase.” Y/N said.
“Of course I did, it’s my favorite saying in the world, it perfectly describes you. You are a shot of espresso, a moment with you has me smiling for hours, I can’t get enough of you.” Charles said,
“Eres tan cursi (you are so cheesy) but i love that about you.” Y/N said.
They continued talking until it was time for bed.
Race Weekend was done and Y/N can continue working from her home office, she didn’t didn’t have any meetings to attend to in person, she was free. She was finishing up some files when the doorbell rang. Y/N got up and answered the door and she saw a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers (mine are peonies because of Blair Waldorf).
“Whats this?” Y/N asked and the bouquet of flowers were lowered to reveal a smiling Charles Leclerc. “Muñeco!”
“Mon ange!” Charles exclaimed, they entered her apartment and they hugged as soon as charles put the bouquet on the kitchen counter, he spun her around and out her back on the ground to leave her kisses all over her face. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow, did you come here straight from the airport?” Y/N asked, taking in Charles’s hoodie and baggy jeans,
“Yes I did. I stopped by the florist first, obviously.” Charles said, gesturing to the bouquet,
“They’re beautiful.” Y/N said. “What brings you here?”
“Because I wanted to tell you up something important. I know we haven’t been dating for a long time but I have never felt this strongly about someone, I love you, te amo, estoy enamorado de ti (i am in love with you).” Charles said. Y/N starts tearing up,
“Ay muñeco, yo también te amo.” Y/N said, hugging him. “Je suis amoureux de toi.” Now it was Charles’s turn to tear up, she just told him she was in love with him too. They kissed.
“I fall in love with you more and more each day, I can’t get enough of you, how do you do that?” Charles asked, brushing Y/N’s hair back. Y/N just shrugged.
“That’s that me espresso.” Y/N said and both of them laughed, Charles pulled Y/N onto the couch and started talking about where to go out today,
The End
I had no idea where I was going with this short imagine but I hope y’all like it!
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
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the alternate … art donaldson
Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.
warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!
It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.
Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.
"Maybe just get it?"
"Why?"
"So you... can tell them you're busy."
He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.
Patrick.
His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.
Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.
He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.
"He told me to look for you."
"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.
"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.
"We both know I look fine."
It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."
"And we both know you don't want to babysit."
"But I'm a good friend."
"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."
He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.
He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."
"It's a free country."
"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"
"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"
His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,
"Chelsea?"
You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.
"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"
"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.
"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.
"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.
"This is not the same."
Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.
"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."
"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."
You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."
"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.
Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.
Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.
And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.
"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms through doors of Cornell's largest finals club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."
Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.
"What? What now, Art?"
"You never gave me your number."
He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.
You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.
And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".
But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present when he was buying his own lunch". And it all made you feel as if he was just very...
"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."
It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood.
"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"
You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.
Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.
After Art's kiss, your night was haunted, distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.
His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.
Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, instinctual. The very thing that sometimes is missing from his tennis. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.
"Art, I need--"
"I know,"
I know,
I know,
I know.
He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.
His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.
The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.
Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.
You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:
"Is it good?"
You don't answer.
"Does it feel good?"
Your brows furrow together as you nod your head assertively up and down, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.
"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.
You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.
You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.
On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.
And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.
#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#art donaldson /reader#art donaldson /you#challengers movie#challengers 2024#art donaldson fic#art donaldson imagine
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do you have some thoughts on how Grimmjows obsession with Ichigo is gonna turn out in AIEWAM later?
he is in my mental microwave again
Nobody, least of all Grimmjow, understands his obsession with Ichigo until they remember the other two souls that are almost irrationally obsessed with him.
I'm AEIWAM, Kon is a cat. Or at least, a mod soul possessing the taxidermy body of an orange tabby. But he's a lot more cat this time, as opposed to like. A random pervert.
Kon loves Ichigo. He loves how Ichigo's idea of quality time is sitting next to someone and doing an activity together and not talking. He loves how he can always bully his way into Ichigo's lap, or giving him A Little Cheese Treat. He's devoted to Ichigo. He'd die for him. He'd kill for Ichigo. He may have already done so, but don't tell him that.
Yoruichi also adores Ichigo. Something about his vibe feels like a natural bond. He's just pleasant to be around. Training Ichigo leaves Yoruichi with a sense of peace and fulfillment like nothing else. She'd kill for nearly anyone, but Ichigo? She'd live through the horrors for him.
Orihime is the first to realize it, when she's prisoner in Las Noches. Something about Grimmjow's mannerisms is strangely familiar... Then she hears the name of his resurrection and everything falls into place.
Ichigo is a Cat Person.
Of course Grimmjow is obsessed with him! Cats are naturally drawn to people they share a vibe with, and Ichigo has been attracting random strays to him for as long as she's known him. Orihime herself is technically one of them
Grimmjow is just a really big stupid cat, so naturally his attraction to Ichigo is also huge and stupid.
She uses this realization to her advantage immediately.
"Kon." She addresses the friend she managed to smuggle in with her. "I need you to keep Grimmjow distracted. Kind of indefinitely."
"Grimmjow? Tall, blunette and psychotic? That Grimmjow? I'd die for you but that's just stupid." Kon protests.
"Don't worry, you're uniquely suited for dealing with him!" She cheers. "The name of his resurrection is "Pantera"! He's just another Tom for you to put in place and you've been doing that since before he even had thumbs."
Kon blinks, the pieces suddenly falling into place.
"You're RIGHT!" He grins, claws flexing in anticipation. "I don't even need to be physically present to drive him to madness and break him! In fact, it most effective if he never sees me at all! Ohhh- this is gonna be fun..."
"You've got a plan then?" She asks.
"Yeah! Hand me that glass of water, I'm gonna start by pissing all over his stuff!"
#bleach#bleach fanfic#aeiwam#an elephant is warm and mushy#grimmjow jaggerjack#kon bleach#orihime inoue#ichigo kurosaki
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Shadow Puppets
Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: reader is terrified of storms, but Nico makes sure she never has to brave them alone
notes: hi!! long time so see! this is a little self indulgent, not gonna lie. i started this last week when some pretty gnarly storms were coming through my town and i struggled finishing it because, surprise, i was scared 🫣. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼
[3.3k]
~
Storms have never been something that you enjoyed. You don’t understand the appeal of the angry rumbles and blinding flashes that litter the sky during a thunderstorm.
Ever since you were a little girl storms have been high on your fear list. Anytime you saw the purplish-gray of the sky, you were doing everything in your power to drown out the incoming storm.
Much like you were right now. You had just turned a movie on in the living room, volume high enough that you worried your upstairs neighbors could hear. Every curtain in the apartment was drawn closed, preventing you from seeing any flash of lightning that would dance across the dark sky.
Your last line of defense was usually white noise being played through a speaker on low volume to further try and drown out the rumbles that are starting to sound closer by the second. Well, it will be your last line of defense, if you could just find the wireless speaker.
It wasn’t in its normal spot in the kitchen junk drawer, nor was it in the bathroom. It wasn’t in your boyfriend’s practice bag, knowing he sometimes takes it to the rink with him when he hits the gym after a morning skate.
You had looked in both your bedroom and the spare room, the guest bathroom, the hallway closet, the various shelves around the living room, in-between the couch cushions, and you had even braved stepping out onto your small balcony to search for it before rushing back inside after a particularly bright flash of lightning.
It was nowhere to be found.
While you were on all fours on the floor trying to see if it had somehow rolled under the couch, you heard the familiar chime of your ringtone coming from the table behind you, startling you a bit.
Seeing your boyfriend’s name flash on the screen, you pick up the phone immediately, speaking a small hello into the device just as an especially loud crack of thunder rings out.
“Hey, Schatz. You okay? Just heard the storm outside, knew you were home alone and wanted to check on you during intermission. Got all of your safety nets in place?” Nico’s worried voice hurries out, slightly out of breath.
The Devils were hosting a charity scrimmage tonight, the proceeds going to a local youth hockey program. Nico had offered for you to come and watch, but you had been wanting to catch up on the reality shows he always complained about watching with you. When he left a few hours earlier, the sky was blue and there were no clouds to be seen.
You didn’t regret your decision until thirty minutes ago when your phone started blaring an alarm with a severe storm warning alert.
“Yeah, I’m okay for right now. Have a movie on and the curtains are closed. I can’t find the speaker, though. Do you remember where you last saw it?” you ask him, placing the phone on speaker so you can continue to search.
“Oh Schatz, I’m so sorry,” Nico starts, regret joining the worry in his tone. “I have the speaker with me. Put it in my game bag this morning. Went and got a few reps in the gym in before warm-ups today. I didn’t look at the forecast before I left, I didn’t know you’d need it.”
Your stomach drops at his confession, your anxiety spiking. You needed the speaker in order to fully drown out the thunder. It was something you and your mom had come up with when you were a kid to help you sleep if it was storming at night. You hadn’t tried to get through a storm without the technique since.
“It’s…it’s okay, Neeks. Really. I’ll be fine,” you start, trying to hide the anxious quiver of your voice. “It’s just a little-“ your sentence gets interrupted by a boom of thunder so loud you could feel the vibrations from the floor you were currently kneeled on.
Nico’s guilt only increases at the yelp you let out, his heart breaking further when he hears the whimper you tried to hide afterwards.
“Y/N are you sure you’re okay? I can try to see if Nicole can come over for a bit? Jesper said she stayed home, too. Or I can send someone to come get you and bring you here if you want?” he offers, hating the fact you’re in the apartment alone.
“No, it’s okay. It’ll probably be over by then, anyways, right?” you ask, needing the reassurance that it was only a short storm.
“Yeah, baby, I’m sure it’s almost over. Just turn the tv up and grab your weighted blanket. I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?”
“Okay,” you squeak out, another low rumble coming from the world outside.
“I love you, okay? I’ll call again to check on you next intermission. Be home before you know it, Schatz.”
“Love you too, Neeks. Play safe,” you tell him before hanging up the phone.
You take his advice and find the weighted blanket he bought you last year after a particularly nasty storm had come through when he was away on a roadie.
He read online that the pressure could help comfort people during anxiety inducing moments, so he had one delivered to your shared apartment the next day. You were extremely thankful for it, especially in moments like this, but nothing can replace having Nico here with you to comfort you during an especially rough storm.
You were trying really hard to focus on the movie, having raised the volume even more to supplement the loss of the noise from the speaker, but the noises from the storm outside only got louder and louder.
You could hear the wind whipping around the tall building you were in, adding a whole new layer to your current distress. Checking your phone constantly, you knew it was still only a severe storm, no further warnings had been issued, but you were starting to get worried the bad weather was here to stay.
Resorting to laying on the couch with eyes closed and hands over your ears to muffle the sounds, your fear had reached its peak. You felt embarrassed, wondering why you couldn’t just find comfort in the harsh weather like a normal person. Instead, you were laying on your couch in a fetal position with your hands covering your ears as a grown woman.
Another intense crack infiltrated your apartment, causing your shaking body to jump, eyes snapping open. Just as you were able to calm your racing heart, you were suddenly covered in darkness.
It felt like someone had just dumped ice water all over your body, every nerve alert with fear. You sat completely still, waiting for the warm lights to flicker back on.
The longer you sat waiting, the worse you felt.
There was no way you could survive this storm with no power. There was nothing to block out the wind and thunder. There was nothing to lessen the bright flashes of light through the curtains. You were so paralyzed by fear you couldn’t even make the short trek to the kitchen to grab a flashlight or light the various candles littered throughout the apartment.
While debating with yourself about if you were going to be brave enough to get up off the couch and walk through the dark apartment, you heard the lock on your front door unlock with a click.
Every movement in your body stopped, including the rise and fall of your chest. You held your breath and sat as still as you could, more petrified with fear than you had ever been before.
Who was coming into your apartment in the middle of a storm like this? The only other people with keys were Nico, Jack, Luke, and your landlord. Three of those people were in the middle of a hockey game twenty minutes away.
A new wave of fear washed over you. What if it was your landlord coming in because he had to evacuate the building? Was the storm that bad? It sounded that bad, but you were always a terrible judge at what classified a storm as bad.
Any storm was bad to you. The slightest rumble of thunder had you wanting to dive under the nearest table like a child.
The door creaked open, squeaky footsteps making their way into your apartment. You continued to lay there, unmoving.
“Schatz? You in here?” you heard a familiar accent call out, all tension in your body disappearing at the sound.
Your body springs up into a sitting position, turning your head to look behind the couch, the sight in front of you almost causing relieved tears to well in your eyes.
Nico stood by the closed door, hanging his dripping jacket on one of the many hooks on the wall in front of him. His soaking wet hair was adding to the puddle on the floor left by his jacket.
He was wearing a pair of athletic shorts and one of his Devils hoodies, the latter only slightly drier than the jacket he had just removed.
He shook out his hair, making you bite back a giggle at how he resembled a dog shaking out its fur, before looking up and seeing your alert eyes peeking over the couch at him.
“Oh, Schatz, are you okay?” he sighed as he made his way over to you.
His socks audibly squished as he rounded the end of the couch, coming to crouch before you.
He took your hands in his own, making you flinch at how cold they were.
Bringing his lips down to blow onto your intertwined hands, he mumbles out a “M’sorry, I wasn’t here, pretty girl.”
You meet his eyes through his wet eyelashes, admiring how pretty he looks right now, brain still catching up to the fact he’s here.
Staring at him while he warms his hands with your own, you remember that he was supposed to still be at the charity game right now, having only called you at the beginning of the first intermission not even thirty minutes ago.
As soon as you open your mouth to question him, you were reminded of the reason for your current state.
A blinding flash of light illuminates the dark apartment, thunder rumbling almost immediately after.
Slamming your eyes shut to try to block the sight, you try to move your hands to your ears once again, but they’re still clutched between both of Nico’s.
You feel the couch next to you sink underneath his body weight, his arms moving to come around your shoulders as he hugs your body into his.
His hand moves up and down your arm in a soothing motion, a small “shhh” coming out of his mouth as his lips rest against your temple.
“You’re safe, darling. You’re alright. I’m here,” he says softly on repeat, working you through the moment of panic.
You allow your body to sink into his, reveling in the comfort that his presence brings you.
“That’s it, just relax. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, alright?”
After several minutes of relishing Nico’s presence, you finally lean back and put a small amount of distance between the two of you.
He moves his hands to smooth down your hair and cup your face, tilting your head up so he can look into your eyes and make sure you’re okay.
As you give him a small smile, he leans forward and places a kiss first on the tip of your nose and then moves his lips up to rest on your forehead.
He pulls back, leaving your face trapped in-between his hands, speaking softly.
“Power went out, didn’t it, Schatz?”
You simply nodded, finding it hard to speak with your cheeks squished.
He starts rubbing his thumbs back and forth on your cheeks, “Scared you when it went out, huh? That why you look so startled when I came in?”
You nodded again, starting to feel a little silly with the chipmunk cheeks he’s caused you to have.
“Well, let’s go fix that, shall we?” Nico finally removes his hands from your face, standing up and reaching his hand out to help you stand from the couch.
He leads you into the kitchen, stopping at the drawer that holds a lighter and flashlights for occasions like this one. He grabs two flashlights out of the drawer, turning one on and handing it to you.
Taking his own flashlight, he turns it on and immediately places it directly under his chin, pulling a face in the shadow of the light coming from the plastic.
His actions cause you to giggle, rolling your eyes at how childish your big, ‘scary’ hockey player can be.
“There she is. Knew I could get that cute little laugh out of you,” he beams, proud of his success.
He grabs the lighter and takes your hand once again, leading you around to every candle you have placed around the apartment. You hold the flashlights as he lights each candle until every last one lit and the apartment is bathed in golden light once again.
The two of you end up back on the couch sharing your weighted blanket as Nico becomes your buffer to the storm outside. You sit with your head resting against his chest for a little while before you remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be here right now.
You raise your head up and sit back, situating yourself so you’re halfway facing him while still being tucked into his side.
“You’re not supposed to be here right now.”
Nico moves his head back and looks at you like you’re crazy.
“What?” he says through a chuckle, amused at how random you words were.
“I mean, you’re supposed to be at the charity game right now. You called me during the first intermission, you should be playing in the third period by now,” you explain your outburst.
Nico laughs, shaking his head. “For a second I got worried you were about to kick me out, Schatz.”
“Nico, I’m being serious,” you roll your eyes. “Why did you leave the game early? Is everything okay at the rink? Did the storm damage something?”
Nico looks over at you, a fond smile on his face.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” is all he says in response, bringing a finger up to stroke from your temple down to your chin.
You move your head away from his hand and scoff, annoyed at his avoidance.
“Nico…” you warn.
He sighs, knowing you’re not going to be happy with his answer.
“I left early.”
“You…left early?” you parrot his words back to him, unimpressed.
“Yes, I left early. I told them there was an emergency here and I needed to get home to you, so I left,” he explains, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was just a charity game, anyways. We were playing against our own guys, not like it was anything they couldn’t do without me.”
You fully remove yourself from him and sit back on your heels. He frowns at the loss of contact as he readjusts himself to sit up straighter.
“Nico, you can’t just leave a game like that!” you scold him. “Think about how excited those kids were to see you play tonight. The fact that it was a charity game should have made it even more important.”
You cross your arms, glaring at him for how bad this could make him look.
“Y/N, you were here, alone, during a raging storm. When I called, I could feel how scared you were through the phone. I knew as soon as the lights flickered at the arena, I couldn’t leave you here by yourself,” he explained, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You argued anyways.
“Nico, think about how bad this could make you look. ‘Devils captain leaves charity game early because his girlfriend is a scaredy-cat and can’t stay by herself during a silly little thunderstorm’” you put on your best sportscaster voice for the last sentence.
It was Nico’s turn to roll his eyes at you, shaking his head at your words.
“First of all, don’t count on a job with ESPN anytime soon,” you swat at his chest. “Second of all, I appreciate your concern about my image and my job, but I don’t care.”
“You should! You should care, Nico. You’re the captain. You need to care more than anyone else,” you cry out at him.
Nico grabs your hands in midair as you wave them around to emphasize your words.
“Schatz, I. Don’t. Care.” He pauses, trying to let the words sink in. “You know why I don’t care? Because you will always come first, do you hear me?”
Your mouth snaps shut, the intensity of the way he’s looking at you making you still.
“My job is just a game. It will always be just a game. A game that I’m thankful that I get to play every day, don’t get me wrong, but at the end of every day, it’s just a game.” He pauses again, making sure you understand him.
You don’t even flinch at the thunder that rings out around you, too caught up in the moment that’s happening between you and Nico right now.
“You, my pretty girl, are not a game. You’re the absolute best thing that has ever, and will ever, happen to me. You’re the biggest priority in my life, not hockey. I could quit hockey tomorrow and be just fine as long as I still have you to come home to every day. You’re the one thing I can’t lose. So yeah, I don’t care if I’m missing a scrimmage right now. They don’t need me. You did. So, here I am, exactly where I’m ‘supposed to be’” he mocks your earlier statement.
By the end of his speech you have tears in your eyes, not because of the storm this time.
You smile at him, an emotional tear slipping down your cheek, Nico’s hand reach out to wipe it away before you could wiggle one of your own from his hold.
“I love you, you know that?” you tell him, leaning your cheek into his open palm. “But you’re still stupid for leaving the game early,” you add at the end.
“Love you more, Schatz. Always.” He responds with a slight chuckle, ignoring the second part of what you said, bringing your face to his.
Your lips meet in a sweet, loving kiss. You rest your foreheads against one another before Nico pulls back, dropping his hand from your face.
“Now, I do believe we have some powerless entertainment to partake in,” he tells you, wiggling his eyebrows at your suggestively.
You lean in towards him once again, cocking an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh…Yeah” he leans back in, his hot breath fanning on your face with his words.
You catch his arm moving out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to remove your gaze from his face to find out what he was doing.
The staring contest the two of you had going on was starting to make you squirm when you hear a click ring out from in-between your bodies, light erupting through what little space is there.
You look down to see one of the flashlights from earlier in his hand, a cheeky grin on his face. Looking back up, you give him a confused look.
“It’s time for shadow puppets!” he excitedly bursts, moving the flashlight to shine on the wall, holding up his pointer and middle fingers to make a shadow bunny on the wall.
You burst out into belly laughs, body falling over his, head landing in his lap.
“C’mon, now, get up, its your turn,” he sits you up, handing you the flashlight.
As you look over at Nico, an expectant look on his face, you suddenly don’t care if it storms all night and the power never comes back on. As long as Nico’s with you, nothing could ruin the happiness running through your veins in this moment.
#nico hischier#new jersey devils#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#hockey#nhl blurb#nhl fanfic#nhl oneshot#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl fic#nhl players#nhl#nhl hockey#nhl playoffs#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nh13
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youtuber!reader does the orange peel trend with spencer
YESSSSS (he would excel)
cw: food mention, fluff fluff FLUFF, spencer is the standard for ALL MEN
wc: 351
youtuber!reader masterlist
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You set up your phone behind your water bottle, camera facing front as Spencer was in front of you doing dishes. There had been a trend on TikTok and you wanted to see how Spencer would react. Watching the way some people’s boyfriends reacted to the “orange peel trend” was actually horrific. Some men just didn't get it. You had faith in Spencer though, and you'd quickly be proven right.
“Hey, Spence?”
“Yes?” He placed the last plate into the dishwasher before starting it up and leaning back against the sink.
“I’m craving fruit.”
“What kind?” His response was automatic, which caused you to smile, and with his words, he walked over to the fruit bowl on your opposite counter.
“An orange?” He gave a nod and grabbed the biggest one before walking over to you. “I actually don’t– wait what?” You watched as he pressed his thumb into the orange, peeling back the skin unprompted– unasked. “Spencer, no!”
He stopped in his tracks and looked up to your pouting face, “what? What happened? Did I do something wrong?”
“Yes! I mean, no, you didn't, ugh!” You turned your body in your high top chair to face the side he was walking towards, and reached over to grab his wrists (which were still holding the orange), pulling him between your legs. “I was supposed to give you hints that I didn't want to peel the orange so TikTok could see how long it would take.”
“But you never want to peel your oranges.” His brows were furrowed, and he had a point. He knows you better than you know yourself at this point.
Sighing again, you slumped your body forward, leaning your head against his chest, “you're right. You're always right, and I love you for it.”
You felt his chest reverberate with his laugh, and he kissed the top of your head. “Do you still want this orange?”
Sliding your head up, your chin was now resting on his chest. “Yes, please.” You both smiled at each other before sharing a kiss, and Spencer finished the peeling of your orange.
++
BONUS: some comments
@ user: THIS WAS SO CUTE WHAT
@ user1: WTF HE DIDNT EVEN NEED TO BE ASKED IM OVER IT
@ user2: how does it feel to win at life?
@ user3: spencer being the best boyfriend to ever exist… did you build him in a lab??
@ user4: you're living the life the one girl who’s boyfriend said “tough luck, buddy” to wishes she has 😭
@ user5: THAT SHOULD BE ME
@ user6: spencer passing the orange peel theory is the only thing that makes sense to me in life tbh
@ user7: this proves that if he wanted to, HE WOULD
++
youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer @navs-bhat
let me know if you would like to be added or removed!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#youtuber!reader
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down bad fr | f.megumi x reader
@takumifujiwarastan remember how a while back you said here that it sucked how there weren't enough introverted girls, reserved girls etc. SO I did try writing this please enjoy their (gn reader woooo) emotional constipation even though the reticence of their personality isn't really highlighted eurgh
having a crush on megumi is so fucking stupid. it’s driving you insane.
you can’t even talk to him. everything he does, everything he says— your heart leaps like a rabbit he casts, and your emotions soar into a terrifyingly messy mishmash of confusion and yearning and infatuation, and then everything in between.
you feel helpless, vulnerable like this— rendered out of control of your feelings after years of emotional constipation and a harsh strictness on yourself to rein them in like a rowdy horse being whipped during derby matches. you’re a climber, you’re hanging precariously from a cliff with every interaction, a child standing before a blueprint with nothing but toy blocks and a kiddie hammer, a roomba with its sensors malfunctioning— you get the point. those were enough metaphors to delineate your predicament.
well, he doesn’t even like you anyway, right?
but you want him so badly.
you just want to hammer it into his thick skull. to just go, ‘hey, I like you even if you may not like me! just go out with me anyway!’
yet with each interaction you struggle even more. because how the hell do you confess to fushiguro megumi, much less go out with him and become his partner?
for years romance had remained nothing but a velleity, a nice fantasy you could slip into when your mind demanded respite in the form of escapism and jejune daydreams. but now that your adoration for him has made it all somewhat possible, you don’t know what to do— your control is being tended away from you, and the worst part is that you don’t even mind it that much.
spiky black hair and eyelashes of silk pass you by, his scent as clean as freshly laundered sheets in hotels. at the start you had thought little about him beyond him being your classmate and eventually just your confidante. yet gradually, you surprised yourself. and everything about him is attractive nowadays: his hair, his pearlescent teeth, the viridian hue of his eyes— hell, he made even the way he drank coffee look like a model of a man in an antediluvian monochrome film of the sixties. and it was so normal, so average, that you were about to slap yourself for the fact that an everyday trait of his had become something so lovely to look at just because it was him. megumi would hold the cup securely by his lithe fingers, the same one he spouted cursed energy from when summoning his shikigami, before lifting the cup up and bringing the brim to his mouth, his lips that never chapped.
nobara asks whether he’s drinking black coffee to look cool around and attract people. needless to say, at least you were attracted.
you hoped he didn’t see the way your face must have blanked out, gaze transfixed on his eyes as he took swigs from his mug.
why’d he have to be like that?!
megumi continued looking at ozawa, the girl who had a crush on itadori— she was just like you for real, but with double the courage and half the emotional constipation.
you hoped it would work out for her. that way, perhaps you could muster the strength and bravery to do the same, too.
you take another look at him. he’s really pretty. had you kicking your feet in the air and all and then screaming in horror because of it, had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing.
with the help of kugisaki and megumi, ozawa and itadori, the two of them are cajoled to go around tokyo together. it’s the best ‘date’ that the two of them can help the other two have, especially since itadori is dense as rocks (megumi’s probably worse based on your experiences, then) and ozawa is as shy as a touch-me-not flower.
“oh, and [name],” megumi starts while nobara strolls ahead, all set to begin a new shopping spree.
“ah— uh, yeah?” you stammer.
“do you like me? romantically, I mean…” he scratches the back of his neck.
what the fuck. is this seriously happening? right now?
“huh? what? I—”
“no, it’s just that— seeing ozawa made me think. I guess I never considered it an option, but I suppose I have had… feelings for you for a pretty long time…”
“woah. ah, sorry, I meant— sorry, I’m just very surprised…” you scramble, your hands gesticulating all kinds of things in an exaggerated way of taking it back because yes you like him, you like him a lot— “I mean, I do like you! it’s just, fuck— uh, what do I say— I’m really scared. I thought you didn’t reciprocate at all.”
“I could tell. but I…” he hesitates, “I overthought everything,” then with a frown, he goes, “gojo would have teased me if he was here.”
“well, I– uh. we’re lucky he isn’t, I guess?” you pause, “...so what do we do now? are we a thing? are we dating? wait, am I going too fast? I, oh my goodness, I—”
“would you like to?” he asks. your knees are about to buckle with every second he keeps his eyes on yours.
“I…— well, I would.”
“then it’s settled. can I— can I hold your hand, please?”
“...okay.”
with trepidation in your hands and your heart pounding in your chest, you inch your hands closer, saline sweat on them as if you’d dipped it into the sea. he keeps his gaze on yours— they’re as unsure as you are, his cheeks a slight scarlet, his eyes swirling with nervousness but a sliver of anticipation, of joy and relief. so he feels exactly the same as you do, then.
his fingers find yours after a while, tracing along the lines of your palm like a blind man touching something for the first time. you want to learn to love and to memorise each nook and cranny of him starting with his palm, and for once emotional vulnerability is not that bad.
kugisaki’s in for a shock as soon as she turns around. first it was itadori potentially having a partner before she does, and now megumi?
imagine writing this because of being delulu abt an irl crush (i should be studying for my exams.) haha couldn't be me right (i'm so cooked)
#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#jjk megumi#megumi imagine#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ruer writes#megumi fluff
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When The Black Wolf Calls My Name - By Yim Hye (8.5/10)
You know the drama is going to be great when you can understand the villain. The villain in this one is completely insane too, but nothing is as simple as it seems. Our protagonist chooses to remarry to save herself from her obsessive ex-husband, but the reader gets to slowly question the logic behind that choice. She is an unreliable narrator, and that's the most interesting part
Yeonwoo wasn't loved, in the most boring way. Her mother was extremely harsh with her, and her father let it happen. Young Yeonwoo experienced the type of abuse people hate to talk about. Emotional abuse. Seowoo, her younger sister, was loved and spoiled but not her. Why, you ask? Well, Yeonwoo is the smart one with potential. Her mother broke her spirit to turn her into a convenient pack mule. A pillar of support for the family.
When the story begins Yeonwoo is financially responsible for both of her parents, and her younger sister. Why? Because she's successful of course. Yeonwoo became a song composer in Korea. She had great success, and her mother immediately asked for money...in a nice way.
The family goes on a trip that Yeonwoo is paying for, and they slip off a cliff into the Underworld. The Underworld in this setting has a historical fantasy vibe, and it is ruled by powerful men contracted to animalistic guardian spirits.
In her first life (hint, hint) she marries a powerful man who controls The Brown Bear spirit. He claims he loves her above all else, but he kills her beloved family too.
She obviously decides to kill herself because she cannot live without her beloved family. Everyone is afraid of Yeonwoo, because Hyojo the Brown Bear loves her so much. When she dies she destroys him, and before her eyes close she notices something.
Another crying man. A man she doesn't even know is weeping desperately for her. She thinks it's out of pity. She wishes no one would cry, because she's dying a prideful death. She's dying to avenge her beloved family.
When she wakes up again she has silver hair, and her family is alive!!!
They get out of the same ruined car again, and they look around the deep forest. Lost and confused.
I'm not kidding her family abandons her the same chapter. Like less than an hour after they arrive.
Sort of.
Hwita appears before her instead of Hyojo this time. Yeonwoo says she must go with him immediately...because she wants to protect their ungrateful asshole asses from Hyojo. Marrying a woman from Earth is a highly strategic decision, and as a bonus Yeonwoo is beautiful.
She offers herself to Hwita, and he eventually decides that he's interested in a marriage of convenience.
Her family literally leaves to hang out somewhere safe while she literally DOES ALL THE WORK TO SECURE HER NEW MARRIAGE AND KEEP THEM ALIVE.
The REAL ISSUE could not be more clear.
Yeonwoo refuses to accept it, but she is absolutely still being abused by her family. They're nicer about demanding money and protection now, but the unreasonable expectations from her childhood never changed. They just changed shape.
Hwita tries to seduce Yeonwoo at first, but he quickly finds out that his beautiful new bride has....problems.
Her greedy family is obviously one of them, but her traumatic second life has left her more heartless. She has no interest in love anymore.
Why?
Well, in her first live she loved Hyojo dearly. By the end of that life his name was branded on her chest, her family was dead, and he wouldn't let other men look her in the eye.
Hwita, obviously, was the other man crying when she died. I do think he's more gentle than Hyojo...but there's a problem.
A really, really big problem.
Yeonwoo simply cannot see that her family is the problem.
Hyojo showered her with sweet love. During their honeymoon phase he sang about her beauty and he grew gardens for her and he carried her princess style and they cuddled all the time and he cared about her feelings.
He was always crazy for her, but he wasn't violent in the beginning.
Do I know Hyojo is bad?
Yes.
Do I also know they could have worked on their mutual issues if her family wasn't...like that?
Also yes.
In her first life Yeonwoo tried to kill Hyojo when he threatened her awful family. In response he got crazier and meaner because his beloved bride chose the clown car over his eternal love.
Is he still a dick? Yeah. Is Yeonwoo kind of an annoying victim that refuses to stand up for herself???
Yeahhhh. It's not black and white in this one. The Underworld is not like Earth. Hyojo's violence is more normal and expected than Yeonwoo thinks.
Hyojo was way too possessive. She's right to avoid him and remarry, but Yeonwoo's family members are definitely stupid enough to insult and demean her in front of her crazed husband.
I 100% know that's how they died without even reading ahead.
It's a real moral conundrum. As a reader you understand why Yeonwoo wants to cling to her family in this unknown world. On the other hand staying with Hwita and leaving the idiots to their fate would be more satisfying.
There's a chance Hwita is a yandere as well. A smarter one. His excuse for marrying Yeonwoo right away is paper thin.
I sincerely hope her family gets punished for using her as their bank account someday.
#yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere boy#recommendations#recs#rec#recommended#webtoon#When the black wolf calls my name
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile XVII
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Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: What can I say on this chapter. A little bit of racism and killing envy. But I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, I don't think this is my best ... I don't really know how to feel about this chapter.
“ Of all the spirits, Alastor, all the spirits, why did you choose this one to work with?” asked Marie as he took her son's ear between her fingers. You couldn't help but snicker behind your hand at the scene. It was something Marie used to do when Alastor was younger, when he would upset you she would pinched lightly his ears while sermoning him.
“ Well, you have never talked to me about it.. So I did it my way.” Alastor said with an amused smile, bending so his mother could keep her grip on his ear.
“ Oh mon dieu…I didn’t teach you because I didn’t think you needed to know about it.” she sighed before sitting down on the sofa. She looked at you with a worried expression. “ Are you okay, sweetie? Working with spirit can be very tiring even more if they don’t accept you.”
“ Well… I’m not working with them yet.” you smiled nervously, explaining to Marie everything that happened so far. She grimaced when you told how John forced you to awake from your trance while you were talking with Papa Legba.
“ I see. This is… surprising, I won’t lie, I didn’t expect it.”
“ I thought I was going crazy.” you chuckled as Alastor sat next to you, taking your hand in his. “ Even if I'm still… not sure about everything, I want to give it a try.”
Marie looked at her son, her face serious.
“ You can’t see him , Alastor?”
“ I could sense him when she was talking to herself in the mirror, moments ago, or when she was sitting with him on the bench. But if not for her eyes, I would have just thought she was sleepwalking.”
Marie was looking at you both, it seemed like she was thinking about what you just told her. You bit your lips, you didn’t know if it was a good idea to ask but you needed to know.
“ Marie, are… are you still working with spirits?” you asked. You saw her eyes twitch, even if she could easily hide her emotions, you were used to Alastor’s facial expression. Marie was easier to read than you remember…
“ Why are you asking?”
“ He told me you used to work with a spirit called: Gran Bwa. And… We saw him when we went into the forest. He told me he was disguised as deer…”
You looked at Marie as she sighed, she seemed so tired.
“ Yes, I’m still working with some spirits. Grand Bwa is the protector of wildlife, and doesn't like to be seen. Because Alastor’s father would force him to follow him into the woods, I was so scared something would happen to him.. So I asked for his help… For you to be safe in those woods.”
You felt Alastor’s grip on your hand tightened. His smile was still present as he was looking intensely at his mother, but you could feel he was agitated.
“ Mother, I am still not as experienced as you, but I’m safe in those woods now. Our biggest threat is gone. Don’t tire yourself.” he smiled at her before standing up. “ Matter of fact, let me bring me something to eat.”
You let Alastor’s hand go after he kissed you on the forehead before going into the kitchen. You stood up and walked toward Marie, before kneeling in front of her, taking her shaking hands in yours.
“ Marie, If I have decided to work with spirits, it’s because I want to protect Alastor. You’ve been doing it perfectly for years, please, as your future daughter in law, let me help you.” you stared at her, trying to convey all of your sincerity. You meant every word. Now that her husband has been slayed, nothing would come to disturbed the peace in this house. Alastor and yourself would make sure of that.
“ Ahh.. You have such pretty eyes, sweetie. Since the first time I saw you, your eyes have always been so pure, vivid and bright. I’m happy they didn’t change, I’m happy that, no matter what has happened, you are still as bright as when you first entered this house.” she leaned toward you, kissing you on the forehead. “ Take care of Alastor…”
You stayed at Marie’s house all morning. She was teaching you how to maintain your connection with spirits so next time you would meet Papa Legba, you wouldn’t be asleep. You would be able to be in the living world, talking with the people and using what the spirits would be giving you.
Marie has told you, you couldn’t use the spirit’s power if you were feeling emotions too strongly. You needed to be rooted into the present, you needed to be concentrating on the link that bound you with the spirits you were calling for. You would have to try meditation, unlike Alastor who always was in control, you were the kind to let your emotion go freely as they pleased.
“ Let’s try it, okay sweetie? First, you need to close your eyes, maybe I’ll be easier.” you nodded,looking one last time at Alastor who was watching you with curiosity and an encouraging smile. You closed your eyes. She made you stand up, keeping your hands in hers. “ Alright, do you feel the warmth of my hands? Perfect. Now, I want you to imagine vines that come from the ground. Slowly, they wrap around your ankles, moving toward your waist, then they cling to your vertebral column until you feel them in your head.”
You breathed slowly, focusing on your feet. You tried to imagine the vines wrapping themselves around you but you were just met with silence. You tried to remember what you felt when Papa Legba came to meet you. You felt… warm. You tried again, this time imagining a warm thread coming from the ground, moving around your ankle. You felt your body relax as Marie kept your hands in hers.
You could feel your body getting warmer and warmer. You wondered if you were doing good.
You are doing great, little lady.
You kept your eyes closed as Papa Legba’s voice surrounded you. You felt like he was all around you even inside you, like you ate something too hot and you could still feel it in your body.
Seems like you are a natural. Congratulations are in order.
You tried to nod but you felt like your body was made of stone, you couldn’t move a muscle. It was kind of claustrophobic.
No worries. It’s normal, I’m possessing you.
You felt your heartbeat increase slowly but you needed to be calm, or the connection would break and you didn’t want to end up like last time, when John forced you out of your trance.
Now, what kind of spirits do you need ?
Wait..? Was he asking what kind of power you wanted?
Exactly, let’s see if you can handle it… You wanted power to protect, wasn’t it.
You felt your mouth open, without your accord, and you spoke in a language you have never heard before. What were you saying?
This is where I go. Remember, you can’t keep the spirit forever, it needs to come back to his realm, I’ll keep the passage open for it. And for your energy, I wouldn’t recommend you to use it for too long. See you next time, little lady, and thank Marie for the rooster.
You felt the warmth leaving your body. You waited a few seconds before opening your eyes slowly. You were met with Alastor’s face, who was stroking your cheeks with a fond expression.
“ You are beautiful.”
You tilted your head against his hand, sighing in relief. You made it back. You looked around, noticing that Marie wasn’t there anymore.
“ What happened ?”
“ Well, you stayed like this for 10 minutes.” he looked at his watch with an excited grin. “ I thought you were asleep but you said something and then you came back with beautiful red eyes.”
You went toward a mirror and stared at your reflection. Alastor was right, your eyes were red just like earlier this morning. You turned around, trying to see what might look different.
“ I… He said I’ll have a spirit power but I don’t feel anything right now.” you looked back at Alastor who was looking at you with a big grin. “ What?”
“ I can’t admire you now?” he came toward you with a teasing expression. You smiled when you saw him lean toward you. You smirked, you wanted to keep him away from you, to tease. You held your hand in front of him sticking your tongue at him but before you could do anything, Alastor’s hand hit an invisible surface in front of you. “ What..?”
You put your hand on the invisible surface which was keeping you from Alastor. Wait.. You could feel warmth in your eyes. You closed your eyes, trying to make it go away, it wasn’t really comfortable.
You felt Alastor’s hand on your shoulder as you rubbed your eyes, trying to erase the feeling behind your eyes.
“ Oh, is she okay Alastor?”
“ Yes and I think you should come and see what she just did.”
You felt Alastor backing away as you opened your eyes once again, feeling the warmth once more. You looked at Marie as she had a dead rooster in her hand. She was looking at your eyes.
“ Rouge… C’est sa couleur après tout..”
You looked at your hand. What was that..? Did you… Did you make a shield? You held your hand once again feeling your eyes burning, you could almost feel tears. Alastor took a pillow from the sofa and threw it at you, the pillow hitting the invisible force that was surrounding you. You looked at the pillows then Alastor who was grinning so hard you felt like his face was going to break because of how big his smile was.
“I’m… I’m really impressed. How are you feeling?” asked Marie, her eyes wide open.
“ My eyes are killing me.” you chuckled nervously. You wondered if you could conjure your shield around Alastor, that would be more useful than around yourself. Did that mean you’ll have to be around him to make it work or ,like Marie used to, you could ask a spirit to do it for you?
You closed your eyes once more. You didn’t know if the spirit could hear you but you think it was enough magic for today. You didn’t want to be exhausted.
“ Thank you, you can go back now.”
You waited a few seconds before you felt cold. You opened your eyes, looking at Marie and Alastor. You looked at your reflection in the mirror and sighed in relief when you saw your eyes, the same color as usual. You turned around but were met with a pillow in the face. Alastor has just thrown another pillow at you.
“ I’m not sorry Darling, I just wanted to see if you were unshielded.” he smirked as you took the pillow from the ground.
“ You knew that! My eyes aren’t red anymore!”
“ I just wanted to make sure. And that’s your punishment, how could you create a barrier between the two of us?” he walked toward you with a smile that made you believe he wasn’t completely joking.
“ Alastor! And you call yourself a gentleman?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, making a surprised face. He leaned toward your ear and whispered.
“ You know I can be worse.” he bit your ears making you flush and turn your eyes toward Marie but the woman was already busy with something else. “ But you’ll keep being at my side, right?”
You kissed his cheek before leaning toward his ears.
“ Death wouldn’t be able to tear us apart, Alastor.” you whispered, feeling a shiver of delight when you heard him gasp at your words. You stepped back with a teasing smirk as he stared at you with a wide smile.
“ Your eyes are red.”
“ What?” you turned your back to him to look at yourself in the mirror but your eyes were their usual color. “ You liar–!” you squealed when you felt Alastor’s teeth sinking into your neck, making you grip his hair. You felt him suck on your skin, making you moan lightly. You blushed when you saw your reflection staring back at you, you tried to turn your head but Alastor held your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at yourself.
“ Look at us.”
“ Alastor..” you whispered. “ your mother isn’t far..”
“ Look at us.” he said once more, his deep slick voice making you feel warm. You look at your reflection as Alastor kept kissing, biting, sucking on your skin. You were staring at him, the way he was staring back at you as he held your body possessively against him was making you lightheaded. “ Don’t ever… think about putting that shield of yours against us, do you hear me?”
You tried to contain the giddy sensation you were feeling. You tilted your head back as you felt his hand taking hold on your neck, not squeezing it, just putting his hand on your neck.
“ What if I do it again..?” you whispered. You shivered when you heard him chuckling darkly.
“ You’ll see it for yourself.”
You were so going to use this shield once more.
—
“ And you didn’t want to tell because..?”
You looked at Alice, who was laying on her bed under multiple blankets. After your morning training with Marie you decided to see Alice. After all, last time you saw her, you told her you were a murderer, so was your husband, you were ready to kill again and furthermore you had a weird episode making you say that someone was digging Alastor’s father from his grave, you needed to explain yourself.
“ Alice, did you really think I was going to come to you and say: Oh guess what, I killed a disgusting pig today. What would you have said?”
“ Want to kill another one?” she giggled, making you sigh with a smile.
“ Alice…”
“ Sorry. I.. I would have been surprised, I won’t lie. I’m still am. But, you did it because he hurted Alastor right? I feel like you killed him because you wanted to protect someone not for your own enjoyment which I would not say the same for Alastor. I knew he was twisted, I’ve told you !” she sat up, holding a pillow against her chest. “ I should have made a fucking bet.”
“ You aren’t.. scared of him?”
“ There will be a cold day in hell before this man makes me feel any kind of emotion but anger and disgust.”
You laughed as you shook your head. Both of them were so full of themselves they couldn’t see how similar they could be. You sat on a chair, next to her bed. Because of what happened, Alice said to her father that she was feeling very sick and that she couldn't get out.
It was Alastor’s plan, Alice needed to stay at home while he would stalk your new prey. Alice wasn’t happy with that, she was scared the man would show the picture of her and Alyzée kissing but Alastor reassured her. That type of man is the kind to think he already won. He was feeling superior by trapping Alice like this, so he would be patient without being aware you were making a plan to eviscerate him.
“I know Alastor doesn’t want me to know your plan but… Do you think I could come before you kill him?” you almost broke your neck as you heard Alice’s question. “ Don’t look at me like that! I just want him to know you are coming from me.”
“ Don’t worry, I’ll send him your regards.” you mocked her with a fond smile. “ Now, Alastor and I will be going to your cottage to make the perfect plan, no one will be there, right?”
“ No one is ever there! That’s why I want you to buy it.” she sighed deeply, falling into her bed once more like the dramatic person she was. “ But yes, don’t worry, nobody will hear your.. plan to kill my pig.”
You smiled behind your hand, you were excited to go back to the cottage, it was yours and Alastor’s sacred place in a way.
You stood up but froze when you felt a shiver going down your spine, your vision getting blurry. You sat back down, closing your eyes. Did you stand up too quickly? Maybe you needed to eat a lot of sugar, to Alastor’s disgust.
You heard footsteps and once again a shovel going into the grounds. Were you having another vision? You tried to see something, but you could only hear. You could hear a dog barking and a man telling him to shut it.
Fuck, was someone once again trying to dig up Alastor’s father?
You opened your eyes in shock. Alice was looking at you, her hand not too far from your shoulder.
“ Are you okay, doll?”
“ I’m doing just fine.. I… I need to go but we will see each other Monday, I promise.” you hugged her quickly and ran out of the room. You waved at the butler and ran out in the busy streets.
Damn it, damn, damn it !
Alastor was working right now, you didn’t have the time to tell him, you would go alone this time and immediately. You ran as fast as you could toward Marie’s place, which took you about 25 minutes. You were breathing hard, running in heels wasn’t your best idea but who cared right now. You entered the woods, looking for footprints which you easily found. You followed them even if you knew where you were supposed to go.
As you approached you could hear a dog barking. You stopped walking, hiding behind a tree. Should you invoke a spirit, in case you needed to fight..? It was too risky, you didn’t know if you could maintain the link with the spirit if you were to fight. You would have to go the hard way.
You took a deep breath and walked toward the man who had his back turned to you, digging into the hole where Alastor’s father was hidden. The dog stopped barking as he saw you and wagged his tail happily. You remembered him, you know whose dog it was.
“ John.”
The man froze before turning his head toward you. It was John. He stared at you before going out of the hole.
“ What are you doing here?”
“ I could ask you the same question. Why would a lady like yourself be deep in the forest, all alone?”
“ Maybe because you are on my husband's property.” you spat at him. “ Should I call a policeman to take you back home?”
“He is not your husband yet.” He showed you his badge. “ I’m working with your father on the disappearance of Alastor’s father. You should thank me.” he smirked before looking at you, you could see fondness in his eyes which disgusted you.
“ Then, why are you wasting your time here?” you needed to calm down. No need to stress. John wouldn’t find anything here.
“ Well, I think Alastor has something to do with his father’s disappearance.”
“ You’re so obsessed with us it makes you look stupid.”
“ Come on, Alastor is not a man to be wed to! You know that, sweetheart, and I’ll prove it to you! He must have put a spell on you or something ! Black people and their magic voodoo shit!” he spat, tugging at his hair. You stepped back, since when John was like that. He sighed before going back into the hole. “ But if you are so sure of Alastor’s innocence, why don’t you come and help me?”
You approached him as he took his shovel and started digging. How would you kill him while making it look like an accident? You would have to take care of the dog too… You stared at John’s back. How should you kill him? How? How? How?
“ Well, what do we have here?” he put the shovel next to your feet as he kneeled, taking something from the ground.
You could take the shovel and hit him until he wouldn’t be moving anymore. He already dug his own grave, it just needed his body. You crouched slowly, moving your hand toward the shovel, keeping your eyes on John.
“ The fuck? Is that a fucking deer ?”
…
What?
You frowned before looking in the hole and gasped. Underneath John was a dead deer. You put your hand on your nose, the smell being too much for you. You took a few steps back as the dog started barking at the dead animal.
What was going on? You couldn’t smell anything but the deer’s corpse right now. Where was Alastor’s father’s corpse ? Did Alastor come back here to move it ? No, he wouldn’t have the time.
You watched as John went out of the hole, seeming agitated. You tried to hide your smile, relieved.
“ So, John, did you find what you were looking for ?” you asked, tilting your head. He looked at you, frowning. “ Because, as I’m aware, you need a warrant to be on someone’s property, which you don’t seem to have.” your smile grew wider as you saw John’s expression turned sour. You had him. “ So, I’ll ask you gently to get out of my husband’s property.”
“ He isn’t your husband yet!” he shouted.
“ He will !” you screamed back. “ I will accept him in front of our friends, in front of God.” you smirked as you saw his face flushed from anger. “ And there is nothing you can do about it.”
“ He won’t have you. He won–”
“ He already had me.”
You stared at his face. He seemed paler than seconds ago. He was looking at you, his eyes wide open.
“ What… What do you mean?”
“ He already had me. Right here actually.” you showed the place where John was standing, making him stumble back. “ I accepted him in the deepest part of me.”
“ Stop…”
“ All I had to do was lay there as he tasted me…”
“ Stop..!”
“ As he made me his.”
“ Stop !” he shouted tugging at his hair, his eyes looking at anywhere but you. “ Look at what he has done to you ! He turned you into some kind of harlot…! But it’s okay, I would still take you as my wife.” he smiled at you as he held his hand toward your direction. “You’ll live a life by my side as a proper lady.”
You approached him, looking at his smile grew wider. You slapped his hands away before hissing at his face.
“ Listen to me one last time. Alastor shall be my husband, no one is going to change that fact. I will be his wife, tending to all his needs. If he wants me as a slut, I’ll be the best whore New Orleans has never seen, but it will be for his eyes only. Only for him. I will be his wife, I’ll bring his child into this world with pure joy and pride.” you stared at him coldly as he looked at you, seeming afraid. “ This body of mine was his before you even knew your so-called feelings for me.” you frowned as you saw him looking at your body with envy and jealousy.
Oh.
Of course, he was jealous of Alastor. You almost rolled your eyes at him.
“ This body is marked as his. Inside and out.” you stared at him, hoping he would finally get the message.
“ Inside..?” he stared at you, blushing.
“ I told you, didn't I? He took me just here, and I’m known to be greedy right? I wanted all of him, so I accepted his seeds inside of me.” you gasped as he took you by the shoulders. His face was so close, you could see in his eyes how excited your last sentence made him feel. What was he…?
“ Don’t bear his failed children, why would you stay with him when you could have a perfect life with me?”
“ A perfect life with you?” you roared a laugh, tilting your head back. How pathetic this man was ready to be ? “ I already have everything I need, do not worry.” you put your hand around his throat, you could feel yourself buzzing with energy. “ But I dare you to try and take my happiness away, I’ll make your life a never ending hell.” you were smiling at him, with a big grin even though your eyes weren’t blinking anymore, just staring at him.
“ You almost look like him..” he said, whispering. “ But I’ll show you, he is nothing more but a monster. And no matter how hard you are fighting right now, when you see I was right, I’ll accept you. “
You could strangle him right now. Your hands were around his throat, you could just kill him. You could push his body with the deer, nobody would find out.
You took a step back, staring at his eyes.
“ I shall never be yours, not as long as I breathe. Now, leave before I lose what’s left of my sanity.” You stared at him as he took his shovel and his dog before leaving, after giving you one last look.
As Alice said, if you were to kill, it was to protect someone or something. If killing John meant protecting Alastor and your relation with him, then you’ll have to dig another hole for him to fall into.
You stayed there for a long time, thinking about John, the dead deer and Alastor. First, you needed to go back home to prepare your things for this weekend in the cottage. You would explain everything to Alastor once you are safely hidden from the rest of the world. You went back home, not running this time. You were walking, taking your time, thinking about a plan.
When you arrived at your place, you hugged your father who seemed so tired, it made you feel guilty.
“ How is my princess doing ?”
“ I’m doing great… Dad, why is John on Alastor’s father’s case?”
“ Well, you weren’t supposed to know but John made it into the police. He succeeded and got his diploma. He has always been an intelligent fella… But it seems like you aren’t friends anymore, am I wrong?”
“ Let’s just say that the farest he is from me, the better.” you sighed before looking at your father. “ So, he has three months to find something or I can get married?” you watched your father nod. “ He should be careful, we never know, an accident can come so easily…” you whispered before going into the bathroom. You undressed and filled the tub with hot water. You slid into it, sighing with bliss.
You played with the water, thinking about John. He was an obstacle… After taking care of Alice’s problems, you’ll have to take care of another.
You didn’t notice your image in the water, showing your reflection with a big smile and deep crimson eyes.
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#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor scenarios#alastor scenario#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#fiction#alastor fiction#human alastor#human alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fan fiction#hazbin hotel#painted smile#painted smile series
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the alchemy || joe burrow x reader
description: why fight a feeling that is so strong? sometimes things are meant to be and you should let things fall into place. the transformation of something dull and broken into gold is hard to ignore, and you shouldn’t ignore it :)
a/n: another request! i love this song soo much so i hope you all enjoy! for the purposes of this fic, this takes place after their first superbowl appearance and after joe sprains his mcl.
also another flashback heavy fic because of the song 🤍
warnings: language, angst, allusions to sex
word count: 10k (dang she’s a long one)
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Have you ever experienced something that happens once every few lifetimes? When those chemicals just hit you like white wine and make you drunk on the feeling. The feeling you get when you’re with the right person, that unbreakable connection, that intense and passionate love? That’s what you feel with Joe. Anyone in your position would hang onto that for as long as they could, and never let go. And you were, but something scared you and caused you to pull away.
Flashback to a few weeks ago
You and Joe were lying on the couch, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and watching a movie. You were wearing one of his hoodies and leaning against his chest. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder and your head was tucked under it. You guys were having some downtime together and were trying to squeeze in as much as you could before the football season started in a few weeks.
You looked up at him and saw the content look on his face, and it was all because of you. He looked comfortable for the first time in a long time. A lot was riding on this season, and Joe was a little overwhelmed with everything going on, but you were there to help him every step of the way.
“How ya feeling?” You asked your boyfriend.
He looked down at you and smiled, “I feel amazing. A lot better than I have these past few months,”.
You looked into his compelling eyes and could tell he was being truthful. He’d been struggling these past few months with his knee sprain, going to the Superbowl and losing, plus trying to get back to where he was before while trying to block out the outside noise. It had been a rough off-season for him, but one of the highlights had been meeting you early on.
You and Joe had met right after the Super Bowl through mutual friends. When you first met, there was an instant connection, emotionally and physically. It was like pure electricity and heat between you two, something you hadn’t experienced in a while. No matter how hard you tried to deny it and run from it, you couldn’t.
“That’s really great, Joe. I’m so proud of you for pushing through,” you grinned.
“I owe it to you. You really helped me pull through all this these past few months. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his hand moving to your cheek.
“Joe,” you said while placing your hand on top of his, wanting to tell him that he got to where he is right now because of his own hard work and dedication. You were just a silent observer to his greatness.
“You’ve done so much for me. These past few months have been a dream. Getting to spend all this time with you has literally been the biggest blessing and a huge reminder that things don’t always have to be so complicated,” he says before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your soft pink lips.
Your relationship with Joe felt pretty easy and relaxed, which was different for you since your previous relationships felt the complete opposite. You were his sanctuary and he was your light at the end of the dark tunnel.
You lean into the kiss for a few seconds before he pulls away. He searches your eyes for a few moments, “I love you,” he says against your lips. It felt like the word stopped and you got punched in the gut when he said those three words. You hadn’t heard those three words in a very long time, and the last person who said those words to you absolutely destroyed you. You had had a few relationships throughout your life, each one worse than the other and it crushed you every time it ended. Your first serious relationship ended because the guy fell out of love. Your next relationship ended because the guy had feelings for someone else. And your last relationship, your longest, ended because he cheated on you multiple times and tried to make it seem like it was your fault, and that was the final blow. He used those three words against you every time, and now those three words came out of Joe’s mouth.
He noticed your startled facial expression and immediately pulled back. “Are you okay?” He asked.
You were frozen. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond to him. It’s not that you didn’t love him, it’s just you were scared that it would happen to you again, and you wouldn’t be able to make it to the other side this time. You fell hard and fast for Joe, meaning if anything happened, it would shatter you beyond the point of return.
“I’m fine,” you lie while moving out of his arms.
“No, you’re not, I can see it. I just screwed things up didn’t I?” He said as he grabbed your hand. His face sported a worried and nervous look.
“No no no, you didn’t. I did,” you say, your heart racing and your face burning. “I can’t say it back,” you whisper as tears fill your eyes.
Joe stayed silent for a few moments as he collected his thoughts. He loved you so much and knew why you couldn’t say it back. It broke his heart that you were scared to say it back. He knew you cared for him and your relationship was going amazingly, but he still tried to do everything he could to make you forget about the others before him. He was trying to undo the damage they had done.
“Y/N-”,
“You deserve to have those three words said to you and I just can’t say it back. You are the most lovable, caring, and thoughtful human I have ever met, and I can’t even say it back?” You say as hot tears slide down your cheeks, feeling absolutely shitty that you were putting him in this position.
“Y/N, listen to me”, he says as he grabs your hands to calm you down. “I don’t care if you can’t say it back right now. I know it’s not easy for you,”.
“But you should care,”.
“But I don’t. I know why you can’t and it’s okay. If you need time, I’m here. I can wait. I will wait,” he soothes.
Your heart broke at the situation. You felt horrible for not being able to say those 3 words to him even though you felt those feelings towards him. He was willing to wait for you, but was he really? Joe could have anyone he wanted, so would he wait for you to make up your mind when he could just move to the next girl? You needed a minute to get yourself together, he didn’t deserve this, especially right before the start of the season.
“I- I just need a minute. I’m so sorry. I’ll text you, but I just need a minute from this,” you said as you got off the couch, collecting your things so you could leave.
Joe gets up, the look on his face makes you want to cry even harder. He lets out a sigh, “That’s okay, I understand. When you’re ready, I’m here,” he says.
You give him a little smile as you pull him in for a hug before walking to the door and leaving his house.
End of flashback
The sounds of football reporters from the TV snapped you back to the present. It was currently Game Day, week 1 to be specific, and you were watching from your couch in your apartment. You should be watching from the Burrow Suite, just like how you and Joe talked about all off-season, but you weren’t, and it broke your heart.
It had been a few weeks since you had seen him, you were constantly replaying the horrible conversation in your head and feeling worse each time. He had texted you a few times to check in, but that was about it. You asked for space and he was giving it to you and you didn’t want to cause any more distress to him, especially since week 1 was right around the corner. You didn’t know how he was feeling, what he was doing, or who he was with. It was driving you insane, but you didn’t need to be filling his space with your mess right now.
You watched the TV carefully as the camera moved back down onto the field, and closer to Joe. He was sitting on the bench in his pre-game gear, seemingly lost in thought as he stared off into space. He turned around and looked up for a few seconds, and that sight alone made your eyes well with tears again.
You knew exactly what he was looking at and who he was looking for. You. He was looking for you in the suite. And here you were, sitting on the couch, alone, while you were supposed to be cheering him on in person. You wiped your eyes and took a few deep breaths. You didn’t want to distract him with your drama, so you understood that this needed to happen. He had to be laser-focused and you were being a distraction.
And he was laser-focused. The Bengals won their first game of the season, 35-17, and Joe absolutely killed it. He didn’t miss a beat and the team was on fire from start to finish. The big smile on his face in his on-field interview calms you down and his post-game presser reassures you that he is doing good, at least for right now.
A few hours later, you were lost in your thoughts. You were pondering whether or not you should send him a text about how great he did in the game. Was it stupid to text him? Did he even care? What if another girl was with him right now doing what you would be doing with him after his game?
“Fuck it,” you mumbled while typing up a little message.
Hey! Watched the game today and you killed it!!! Didn’t miss a single beat, so proud of you!
Remember to elevate your leg with a cushion in case your knee feels a bit off. And also ice it, I think the ice wrap is in the freezer :))
You knew that his knee would probably be a little sore after today's game just like it would be after practice. You had discovered that throughout the off-season after he’d come over to your place after practice every day. You would be the one to help soothe any discomfort he had but since you weren’t there, you had to remind him.
Flashback to June
You were finishing up a project for work until you heard a soft knock on your apartment door. You looked over to the clock which read 3:30, meaning it was probably Joe since he would come over after practice wrapped up for the day. He would usually come over every Wednesday and Friday and sometimes stay the night or end up going back to his house pretty late. When he first started to do this, you asked him if it was too tiring for him since you figured he’d be able to fully unwind and decompress more in the comfort of his own home. But he told you that being with you was his way of relaxing and decompressing.
You hopped off of the barstool and turned off the stove before walking over to the door to let him in. You made some spicy chicken and rice, seasoning everything just as he liked it.
You opened the door and Joe immediately leaped onto you, pulling you in for an intimate hug.
“Hello to you too,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his large frame.
He lets out a laugh as you lead him back into your apartment, still hugging each other. He uses his foot to kick the door shut and pulls you in closer.
“You’re extra clingy today,” you laugh as you rub his back.
“Mmm, I missed you,” he mumbled against your head, pressing a delicate kiss onto your hair.
“Me too,” you said as you stood on your toes so you could press a kiss to his cheek. You pulled away from each other after a few more moments of being in each other’s arms and Joe’s nose wiggled as a smirk appeared on his face.
“You made my favorite,” he said, immediately recognizing the mouthwatering aroma.
“That I did,” you giggled. “Here, come sit on the couch. You’re probably sore and exhausted,”.
“Ooo, do I get treatment from my sexy nurse today?” He teased as he walked over and collapsed on the couch.
“If sweatpants and an old ass tank top from high school are sexy, then yes,” You grin while moving the cushions to help him elevate his knee.
He stares at you while you help him get cozy, “You don’t have to do all this,”.
“Since you demand to come over after practice, the least I can do is help you get comfy. Don’t want your knee to act up because you didn’t take care of yourself just because you were with me,” you say while moving his leg over to the cushions.
“Does it feel weird?” You look up and ask.
He lets out a sigh, “Yeah, a little,”.
“I’ll grab the ice wrap,” you say as you walk over to the freezer.
“Yes, Ms. Nurse,” he salutes before grabbing the TV remote to turn on an episode of The Office.
“Really funny, Joe,” you say.
A few minutes later, you wrap his knee in the ice wrap and curl up next to him on your couch, your head tucked under his strong arm and his hand sliding up and down your arm. You were playing with the strings of his hoodie and asked, “How was practice?”.
“It was good. I’m feeling and moving a lot better and the knee isn’t so bad. The soreness and weirdness will probably linger for a little bit so I’ll just have to put up with it,”.
“Good thing we got a routine down for taking care of it,” you smile.
“All thanks to you,” he says as he shakes your shoulder.
“You give me too much credit,”.
“Mmm no I don’t. You know exactly what works and what doesn’t work. But I think the biggest remedy is you. You make my life and evenings after practice so much more relaxing. Best medicine and treatment by far,” he says as he looks down into your eyes.
You stare into his baby blues for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.
“You’re too much, Burrow,” you laugh as you pull away.
“But you can handle me so I can’t be thaaat much,” he smirks.
“What’s with the smirk,” you giggle.
“It’s just that you can handle me in more ways than one,” he says as he moves you into his lap, straddling his hips and chest pressed against his warm skin.
“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” you say as you shake your head. “But you are right, I can handle you in every way possible. Never too much,” you say as you lean back in for another kiss.
End of flashback
You let out a deep breath and quickly turned your phone off so you would stop thinking about it. He probably wouldn’t even answer until tomorrow so why bother thinking about it? You got up off the couch and walked into your kitchen to heat up some leftover pasta and heard a chime come from the living room. You whipped your head around and saw your phone light up. Your eyes widened and you ran back over to the couch to check what it was.
Thank You! And thanks for the reminder. I already have the knee wrapped and my leg elevated. I’m glad you decided to watch. I was hoping you’d make it to the game but I get it
Your shoulders dropped at his text. He wanted you there and you let him down. You didn’t know how to respond to him because you didn’t want to make it worse, so you just decided to send a white heart emoji and turn your phone off.
You moved back onto the couch and fell back into the pillows. A loud exhale escapes your mouth, “What is wrong with me,” you say to yourself.
A few weeks later
It had been a few weeks since the first game of the season. It was currently week 6 and you still hadn’t seen Joe or really talked to him. The Bengals were 2-3 and you knew that was killing Joe and you wanted nothing more than to reassure him that it was going to get better. Like clockwork, the analysts began their ‘is Burrow really as good as people think he is?’ agenda just because he had a few bad games.
To help take your mind off of things, Jess had invited you out for lunch so you were getting ready for that. You were putting on your last bit of jewelry when one of your necklaces on your stand caught your eye. It was the infinity necklace Joe had gifted you for your birthday a few months ago.
Flashback to your birthday (August)
“And here is the last birthday gift,” Joe says as he places a tiny box in your lap.
“Are you sure it’s the last one?” You giggle.
He raises his brow and gives you a look that immediately shuts you up. He had surprised you with quite a few gifts today and many of them were very expensive looking. Each time you told him you didn’t need or want anything, but he clearly had a different idea.
“Okay, Okay,” you retreat, causing him to let out a laugh.
His arm wraps around your shoulder as you open the box. Inside the box was a beautiful diamond infinity necklace. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open, “Joe, this is so beautiful,” you say as you examine the gorgeous diamonds.
“Only the best for my girl,” he smiles as he squeezes your shoulder.
“You didn’t have to do all this. This must’ve been so expensive,”.
“So what? It’s your birthday and I think this infinity symbol really resonates with how I feel about you,” he says as he picks up the necklace out of the box. “Here, turn around so I can put it on,”.
You turn around and move your hair out of the way. The smile on your face says enough about your emotions. Butterflies filled your belly and your heart was overflowing with adoration. He was so good to you and always made sure you felt valued by him, and he would do anything to show you and seemingly wanted to show you that forever. Infinity. He wanted to be with you for infinity.
End of flashback
You stared at the necklace for a few moments. You hadn’t worn it since the day you freaked out on Joe but you looked at it every day. A silent reminder that he does value you and he does care, but moreover, he adores you. But you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t show him the same love he gave you.
You grabbed the necklace, not overthinking it, and put it around your neck. You then grabbed your stuff and left your apartment so you wouldn’t have time to reconsider wearing it.
A few hours later
“So she told me she couldn’t go because she spilled Juice all over her dress but I think it was because she didn’t want to be around Becca since she started dating her exes best friend,” Jess says as she takes a sip of her lemonade.
“Man, your college friends are really something,” you laugh as you take a bite of your salad.
“Tell me about it,” she smiles.
“So, what’s going on with you and Joe?” She asks straight up. “I see that you’re wearing the necklace,” she points out.
Your smile drops a bit as you take a deep breath. You knew you’d have to talk about it at some point and you really needed to talk about it to someone who you could confide in. Jess was the perfect person. You and her immediately clicked when you first met at a team dinner back in the off-season and have been great friends ever since.
“I don’t know. He told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back,” you frowned. “And as for the necklace, I don’t really know why I put it on today,”.
“Oh, Y/N,” she says as she reaches for your hand.
“I want to say it back but I’m scared. Joe has the ability to rip me to shreds if things go south and I can’t go through that again. Not after what happened in my last relationship. He’s so perfect and that worries me,” you say.
“Joe isn’t like the others,” Jess says.
“I know, and that’s why I’m confused. I don’t know why I’m being like this. He hasn’t given me a single reason to be this fearful. And I honestly don’t understand why he’s putting up with this. He’s probably better off forgetting about me and moving on with some other girl,”.
“Are you crazy?” She questioned. “Joe hasn’t stopped asking me about you. Every time I see him at the game he’s always asking about you and if you’re doing alright,” she giggles.
“Really?” You say, a little shocked that he thought about you that much, especially on game day.
“Yes, really. Y/N, he loves you. I’ve known Joe for a very long time and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s never been this in love with someone before. You’re special. You bring out the absolute best in him and he does the same for you,”.
“And you're saying there isn’t anyone else that he’ll just go to after he gets bored with me?” You ask.
“Nope. Never was and never will be. You’re the one to beat. You stole his heart. He’s never going to get bored when he has someone special like you in his life,” she winks.
“I think you’re just afraid of getting your heart broken again, and that’s fair. You’ve been through a lot and it can’t be easy to get into it again after going through a really tough and long relationship. But as your friend and as Joe’s friend, you owe it to him and yourself to try. He cares about you more than he cares about anyone, and that says a lot,”.
“The way Joe spent all those months in the off-season trying to win you over was unlike anything we’ve ever seen him do,”
Flashback to March
“He’s here?” you say to Jenna, wide-eyed and slightly nervous.
“Yeah, Dylan invited him,” She giggled. “Be prepared for another round of flirting, he is relentless,”.
Today was your friend Jenna’s birthday dinner. You had become friends at the end of last year when your job transferred you to the Cincinnati branch, and you instantly hit it off and became close friends in a short amount of time. She introduced you to all her friends and you became a part of their big group and that also meant becoming friends with her fiancee’s friends. They were all great and super friendly, except one of them was a bit too friendly with you. It was none other than the Bengals Quarterback, Joe Burrow. He and Dylan went to OSU together and were a part of the football program there and have kept in touch ever since, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked into your friend’s dinner.
“He just never stops. Like 2 weeks ago when we all went to Dinner for Jess’s birthday, he was stuck to my side the entire time,” you said to her.
“What did I tell you? He likes you, Y/N,” she laughed as she sipped her drink.
“Yeah right. I know how these football players roll and I am not about to get caught up in that mess and get my heart broken all in one go,” you say as you watch him closely. Joe had taken a particular interest in you ever since you had met in February. You weren’t exactly sure why, but every time you would see him, he would end up stuck to your side the entire time. He would constantly talk to you, literally never shutting up. He would make little comments about how pretty you looked and how you were the nicest person he had ever met. You had a lot of things in common such as your music taste, your favorite movies, your small-town upbringing, and even your childlike tendencies such as playing Mario Kart & Smash Bros religiously at your grown age. Just the usual flirting but you were not buying into it. Sure, you would play into it and flirt back, but you had 0 intentions of actually starting something with him out of all people.
Each time you saw him, each time he would try to get you to hang out with him, just the two of you. Whether it was him suggesting that you two watch a movie at his place, go out to a new restaurant, or do anything you wanted to do, you always shut him down. Partly because you had your guard up around him for various reasons, but also because you didn’t think he actually liked you. You thought he just wanted to hook up and become casual fuck buddies like a typical football player, but you had no idea that those were not his intentions at all.
Joe really did like you and was doing anything to get you to give him a chance. He hadn’t felt this way about a girl in a very long time, and he was set on winning you over by any means necessary. You felt a little bad watching him struggle with you each time, but you were silently enjoying it. Something about having a star QB wrapped around your finger was amusing.
“I won’t lie, it is kinda fun to watch him attempt to make a move every time we see each other,” you laugh as you continue to stare at him. Although you didn’t want any part of him, he did look absolutely sexy. You would be lying to yourself if you said he wasn’t the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life.
“I give it a few months. You’ll be wrapped up in his arms,” Jenna says as she waves Joe over. He ends his conversation with a friend and starts walking over, a smile creeps up onto his face when he notices you sitting at the table.
You whip your head over to face her as you see him start to walk over, “What are you doing?” you say as you try not to act rude.
“You’ll thank me for this in a few months,” she winks as she gets up from her chair, greeting Joe, and then walking over to Dylan, Sam, and Jess.
You took a few deep breaths as you watched him sit down right next to you. “Here we go again,” you thought to yourself.
“Hey, Y/N,” he says, flashing his gorgeous smile to you.
“Hi, Joe,” you smile back.
“You look really pretty tonight,” he says as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Thank you,” you say back, hardly putting any effort into the conversation.
You both find yourself in some awkward silence for a few moments before Joe speaks up once again. “Soo, What have you been up to?”.
“Oh, nothing much. Just the usual,” you say as you play with the rings on your fingers.
“Cool, Cool,” he nods, the smile on his face slowly fading away.
“So Um, have you given my dinner offer any thought since the last time we saw each other?” he asked, referring to when he asked you if you wanted to get dinner with him at this new sushi place downtown that he had been dying to go to.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Sorry, but I’m swamped with work for a while, don’t think I’ll have any time,” you lied, fully expecting him to keep pushing you for it like he usually does. It kinda was like a game of cat and mouse. You kept running away and he kept chasing, never being able to catch you, but also never giving up.
He stays quiet for a few seconds as you watch his head drop and the grip on his drink tighten. He would normally start the playful banter by now but he hadn’t, which was odd.
“See, I just don’t get it,” he said, looking back up at you, his usually joy-filled eyes now empty.
“Get what?” you ask him, sitting up in your seat.
“You. I don’t get you. Ever since we met, you’ve been giving me mixed signals. I thought we had something going on here since you were very clearly flirting back, but every fucking time I try to move to the next step, you dodge me like the plague. I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?” he said.
“Joe, I-” you said, not knowing what to say to him. You felt horrible but he was right. You were sending him mixed signals but you thought he was having fun as well. Truth was, you weren’t dodging him, deep down you knew he was a good person and you actually enjoyed his company, you were just dodging the idea of dating and being in a relationship again. You just struggled with the idea of opening up to a person like that again, especially since the last time you did, it was used against you. And you were taking it out on Joe.
“What? Literally, what could you possibly have to say?” he asks, his face turning a little red but his voice remaining leveled. Even though he was upset, he made sure not to raise his voice.
You felt like throwing up in the moment because you felt awful for making him feel like this. The silence in between was enough of a response for him to get up. “Yeah, I figured. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry if something about me makes you want to run in the opposite direction,” he says as he turns around and walks back over to your friends who had just watched all this unfold.
You just sat there in silence, feeling shitty for making him feel like he was the problem when in reality, it was you. You got up and walked to the bathroom, trying to escape the now awkward ambiance and also compose yourself.
“What was that about?” Jess asked Joe when he walked over to them.
He shook his head and took a few deep breaths before saying, “I don’t know. I thought she liked me too but every single time I try to make a move, she shuts me down,”. “I don’t know what the fuck I did,”.
“Joe, you didn’t do anything,” Jenna said.
“Then why is she acting like this? When we first met, everything was going well. We had good conversations, she could be around me without looking like she had to throw up, and now? Now she won’t even hold a conversation with me,” he said.
“It’s because she’s scared of getting her heart broken again. All her exes were absolute assholes, each one worse than the other. Her last one really did a number on her but that’s not my story to tell. Just know, it was bad,” Jenna said.
“Jenna’s right. It is not your fault at all. I think deep down, she likes you too but is scared to admit it,” Jess added. “She always looks relaxed with you and seems like she always is having fun,”.
“I just wish she would give me a chance. It feels like I hit a brick wall with her and shit is not moving,” Joe says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well, don’t give up man. I know you and you definitely don’t back down from a challenge,” Dylan says, patting his back.
“Yup. She’ll come around,” Sam says.
“You just have to show her that you really really care about her. I know her and I know that once she sees how sincere you are about this, she’ll come through,” Jenna says.
“You didn’t hear this from me, but Y/N loves cliche romantic gestures. Specifically handwritten love letters,” Jess winks.
“Ooo, nothing more romantic than a love letter,” Jenna says while looking over to see if you have come back from the bathroom.
“A love letter? Do I look like Romeo,” Joe scoffs. Seriously, a love letter? Joe could barely write out a sincere birthday message for his friends and family and they expect him to write a love letter?
“Listen, if you really wanna get the girl, try one more time,” Jess encourages.
He thinks about it for a few seconds before giving in. This had to work. If you really liked gestures like this, Joe was going to make sure it was the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.“This better work,” He says.
“Just don’t feel bad Joe. She just needs to see that you really want this and I think this just might do it,” Jenna says.
“Yeah, I Hope so,” Joe says as he glances over to where you were sitting, the seat now empty. “I’m gonna go get some air,” he says to your friends as he walks out to the entrance of the restaurant.
They were right. Joe never backed down from a challenge and he really wanted you. He was going to do whatever it took to win you over, even if that meant doing something he would never think to do in a million years.
“I’ve never seen Joe like this before,” Sam says to everyone after Joe walks away.
“Tell me about it. She has him wrapped around her finger and I really hope she doesn’t pass on this,” Jess says.
“They’re perfect for each other. She just needs to see it and hopefully this will do it,” Jenna says as you walk back out to the dining room.
A few days later
It had been a few days since Jenna’s birthday dinner. You had managed to avoid Joe the entire night but still felt guilty at the fact that you had been so terrible to him for reasons out of his control.
You were sitting on your couch reading one of your favorite romance novels. Everything was always so perfect in the books. The girl always got the boy and everything was so romantic and beautiful. When was it going to be your turn? When would you be able to feel like the girls in the books? A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts, “Hm?” You questioned since you weren’t expecting anyone.
You walked over to the door, opened it, and then were met with a large flower arrangement, no human in sight.
“What the hell,” you said to yourself as you crouched down to pick up the beautiful flowers, which happened to be your favorite, pink roses.
You kicked the door shut with your foot as you walked over to the kitchen island. “Who are these from?” You asked yourself. You searched the flowers for a card and found one tucked into the bottom of the pot.
You pulled over a barstool and sat down before you opened up the envelope. A little note was folded inside. You carefully pulled the paper out and opened it up to read it. You tilted your head out of confusion. The note was handwritten and the handwriting looked a little familiar.
—
Dear Y/N,
I don’t really know how to do this, but please don’t think this is cringey or corny. I think I’ve rewritten this letter like 5 times now so I'm really trying to make this work. Anyways, I feel awful for the way I handled things the other day and I know you’re probably sick of me but I just can’t ignore these feelings anymore.
From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you—something that drew me in and captivated my heart. You’re a very special girl and you deserve all the happiness in the world, and I hope that I can be a part of that. I know it’s only been a short amount of time since we’ve met but every time I see you, I’m reminded that you’re not just something I dreamed about. You’re real and you’re here. And I want to be with you.
Your smile lights up my world and your laughter is like music to my ears. Every time you walk into a room, my heart skips a beat and I find myself completely enchanted by your presence. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, both inside and out.
I find myself constantly thinking about you, day and night, dreaming of the day when I can finally tell you how much you mean to me. Your kindness, your intelligence, your sense of humor - all of these things make me fall for you more and more with each passing day.
I know that I might just be a small blip on your radar, but I couldn't let another day go by without expressing my feelings for you. I know that this is hard for you, but I really hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that I’m different, and that we can be different.
Sending my love,
Joe.
—
You felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks and onto the countertop, as you finished reading the letter. Nobody had ever written you a love letter before even though it was something you would constantly dream about and mention indirectly to your ex-lovers. None of them got the hint that this was something you wanted. But here you were, reading a love letter from a guy who didn’t even know about your silly little dream but somehow made it come true.
He really cared about you and he wasn’t playing around. The contents of the letter had made his feelings about you incredibly clear and opened up your eyes to what you were missing out on. He was such a sweet, kind-hearted, and gentle person and you had him right at your fingertips. And you were about to push him away for good.
You wiped your tears as you pulled out your phone from your pocket, pulling up Joe’s contact and hitting the call button. You prayed he would pick up, and he did.
“Hello?” He said, slightly breathless as he was in the middle of working out.
“You’re an idiot,” you laughed through the tears.
“Y/N?” He asked.
“Yes, it’s me,” you sniffled. He remained quiet on the other end so you took it as a chance to finally reciprocate the feelings he had for you.
“I got your letter and flowers,” you smiled.
“Yeah?” He asked, putting his dumbbell down and sitting on the workout bench. His stomach was in knots as he was anxious about what your response would be.
“Are you free tonight? I heard that the new sushi place downtown is to die for,” you giggled as you twirled your hair.
Joe’s face immediately lit up and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He stayed silent for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and he sure as hell wasn’t. “Yeah, I am. I’ll pick you up in an hour,” he says.
“It’s a date,” you say, biting your bottom lip, your stomach filled with butterflies and anticipation. It was finally your chance to get the boy.
After weeks of waiting and trying, Joe had finally won you over. He had finally won the trophy and ultimate prize which was you.
End of flashback
Nobody had played the field for you like Joe had. You were pretty unlucky when it came to relationships but when you met Joe, everyone who was attempting to play the field just ended up warming the bench. He never gave anyone else a moment to try to win you over. Throughout the off-season, he was doing just about everything to win your heart and he was killing it. You were on a winning streak, up until you ruined it with your childish fears.
“I just- I haven’t felt the way I feel with him in a long time and that scares the hell out of me. The last time I felt that way, I was so blinded by it and it got the best of me,” you replied, your stomach churning at the mention of your last relationship.
“I understand that. But not every guy is going to take advantage of your love. Even though I’ve known you for a few months, I can see that you have so much love inside of you. I can see the love in your eyes for him. Don’t let your past get in the way of something promising and special,” she told you.
“You tell me something new he does for you and a new funny story about him literally every time I see you. You always have this radiant smile when you’re around him and this look in your eyes that most people would say only is seen in someone once every few lifetimes,” Jess adds as she points at your necklace.
“Like look at that. He basically told you it was you and him for infinity. He’s not going anywhere, trust me,” she laughs. “Don’t fight it,”.
You take another deep breath and think about what she’s saying. She’s right. You and Joe had been together for 6 months and in those 6 months he never made you feel bad about yourself, he never made you feel neglected, and he definitely never made you feel unloved. He was different from everyone else and you loved him so much. It wasn’t his fault that the others hurt you so badly and you owed it to him to try.
He was what you had been waiting for your entire life and now that you’d finally had it, you were so close to ruining it. He wasn’t like the others, not one bit. You loved everything about him and he loved everything about you. He showed you what real love felt like, and taught you how to love again. She was right, why should you fight it? You had struck gold with Joe.
“I love him,” you realize, a smile creeping up your face.
“There we go,” she says as she claps her hands together and falls back into the chair.
“I really love him,” you repeat, wanting to scream it at the top of your lungs.
“And I’m sure he would be incredibly happy to hear that,” she smiles. “Wait, you should come to the game on Sunday,” she
“Are you sure? Shouldn’t I wait to talk to him until after this week's game?” You asked.
“I have a feeling he’d be more than excited to see you at the game this week. Might give him that kick he needs to break out of whatever came over him this past 2 games,” she says.
“Yeah, he has been a little off lately,” you frown. You didn’t know if it was because of you or his knee or something else, but something was off about him.
“If you decide to come, I’ll be waiting at the suite entrance since I know it would be your first time at a game,”
“Maybe I’ll come around, it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen him,” you said.
It was true, it had been so long since you’d seen him. And you missed him so much. You missed his little laugh, his silly jokes, his adorable smile, his beautiful eyes, his sexy morning voice, and most importantly, the warm and comforting feeling you got around him.
“Mhm,” she replied. “You should wear his jersey too. I’m sure he’d love it,”.
Sunday — Paycor Stadium
You walked into the stadium, taking a deep breath as you made it inside. You were wearing his jersey for the first time and were feeling a little nervous about the entire situation. You haven’t been to his game before, you haven’t even worn his jersey before, and you definitely didn’t know what the hell you were going to say to him once you saw him. You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t realize that you had walked over to the Suite entrance where Jess was waiting for you, just like she had said.
“You made it!” She said as she pulled you in for a hug. “And your outfit looks so cute,” she adds, pointing out your jersey. You had put on the white bengal jersey, a vintage Bengals dad hat, and your favorite pair of jean shorts. And the cherry on top is your infinity necklace.
“Yeah,” you said, a little frazzled because of the many thoughts floating through your head.
She noticed your worried face and said, “Hey, don’t stress. It’ll be just fine, I promise,”.
“I hope so,” you mumble.
She turned her head around, looking to see if the hallway behind her was clear. “Joe won’t be able to come up here now, but that hallway leads straight to the tunnel and locker room entrance,” she says, fully implying that you should go down there and see him.
A smile creeps up your face and you start playing with the infinity necklace around your neck. “Go get your boy,” she teases.
She was right, time to stop being afraid. He was yours and you were his, there was no use fighting the alchemy. What’s meant to be, is meant to be, and you two were meant to be.
You told her you’d be back in 10 or so minutes and made your way down the illustrious hallway. The walls were decorated with Bengals memorabilia, ranging from the beginning of the team and up to now. There were quite a few things on the walls about Joe, and seeing them made your heart full.
You made your way down to the tunnel and locker room area, not sure where you should go from here. He did tell you a while back that family was allowed to be down here once in a while before or after the game, but you didn’t know where you should be.
You took a peak at the field, seeing that there were a few players in their jerseys out there. “He must be getting ready to go out for some last-minute warmups before the walk-in,” you said to yourself.
A sigh left your lips as you sat down on the bench across from the locker room entrance. You waited there for a few moments until you saw the door open, and out came Sam.
You immediately stood up and walked over to him and he noticed you instantly, “Oh- Hey Y/N! It’s great to see you. Jess told me you may be coming to the game so it’s great to see you here! How are you?” he asked.
“I’m amazing Sam, Um, where’s Joe?” You said, getting straight to the point.
He chuckled and shook his head, “He should be coming out in a minute. Man, you two are definitely something,”.
Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he quickly cut you off because he had to go. “Anyways, I gotta go out there but good luck and enjoy your first in-person game,” he smiles as he puts his helmet on and starts to jog out.
You say goodbye to him as you lean back against the wall. “Any minute now,” you whisper to yourself.
A few minutes pass and you decide to go on your phone, seeing a few messages from Jess. She was letting you know that she was sitting inside the suite and grabbed you some food for when you got back. You were in the middle of sending her an update when you heard the door swing open. 3 men stepped out in their football gear and walked over to the tunnel, however, 1 stayed right in front of you.
“Y/N?” the familiar voice asked.
You looked up from your phone, and there he was. The man of your dreams, the person who made you feel cherished and safe.
“Joe,” was all you could say. The nerves you had been feeling for the past hour suddenly disappeared at the sight of him.
He walked closer to you as you slipped your phone into your back pocket. His heart fluttered as he noticed you had his jersey on, but most importantly, you had the necklace on.
“What are you doing-,” he said before you leaped into his arms, taking him by surprise which caused him to stumble back a little.
“I’m so sorry. I am so so so so sooo sorry,” you said as you pushed your face into the crook of his neck. His arms hovered for a second before moving around your waist, holding you tightly.
“For what?” he asked.
You pulled your face out of his neck and met his eyes, “Everything. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere,” you said as you gazed lovingly into his eyes.
“But that’s only if you still want me-,” you add before he leans down and pushes his lips against yours. God, you missed the feeling of his lips against yours.
You both pull away after a few seconds, “Does that answer your question?”.
You grin at his little gesture, “Absolutely,”.
He pulls you back into him, swaying you back and forth for a little. “We can talk after the game? At least, that’s if you’re staying,”.
“You really think I would be wearing your jersey if I wasn’t here to watch you,”.
“Fair point,” he laughs. He looked out over at the field and saw a few of the staff looking for him. “I gotta go,”.
You release yourself from his embrace, “Don’t wanna keep them waiting too long,” you giggle. “I’ll be up in the Burrow Suite, just like we talked about,”.
Joe felt like melting in the moment. He still couldn’t believe you were here, in his jersey, and were about to watch him play. He was scared and thought that he had lost you for good after what happened but you proved him wrong.
“I’ll be looking for you,” he says, giving you a look that tells you he means business.
“And I’ll be there, I swear,” you salute.
He pulls you back in for another hug, “God, I can’t believe you’re here right now,”.
“Well, get used to it. I think I’ll be letting them know to save a permanent seat for me up there,”.
“I’ll buy you a whole suite just for yourself if you want me to,” he jokes, only partly.
“Baby Steps, Joey. Baby steps,” you giggle.
Your tender moment is soon interrupted by a training staff member walking by, “Joe, we need you out there. They wanna go over a few things before kick-off,”.
“I‘ll be there in a sec,” he says, still holding you.
“You should probably go before they send out a search party,” you say as you look up at him.
“You’re probably right,” he laughs as he lets go of you. “I’ll see you after the game in the suite. Hope you have fun,” he smiles.
“Oh I will,” you respond. Joe presses a kiss onto your cheek before walking towards the tunnel.
“Wait,” you whisper to yourself. “Wait, Joe!” You yell as you speed walk over to him before he goes out. He quickly turns around, “What’s Wrong?”.
You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders before moving your face closer to his, pressing a warm kiss on his lips.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips after you pull away. His eyes widen at your words and his stomach does a backflip. “Knock ‘em dead, Shiesty,” you say as you press another kiss to his lips before walking back to the hallway that leads up to the Suites. He felt absolutely love-struck as he watched you walk away. You said it. You finally said it.
“Damn,” He whispered to himself, a huge smile on his face.
An hour later
The game was going great. Joe was killing it and seemed to have snapped out of whatever came over him the past two weeks. It was the start of the fourth quarter, the Bengals leading 27-21, and you were having the time of your life.
“This is so fucking fun,” you grin as you take another sip of your drink.
“Welcome to the football life my friend,” Jess laughs.
“He’s too good, he is TOO good,” you yell, slightly tipsy since you had a few drinks. You mental note to not drink stadium cocktails because they were so strong, and you were definitely feeling it.
“Ooof, third down and this is a crucial spot,” you say, standing up and moving closer to the railing.
“Let’s see how it goes,” Jess says, putting her drink down and joining you at the railing. You held your breath as you watched the play unfold. Joe took a few steps to the side and a little back and then moved around as the pocket collapsed. He found an opening and launched the ball down the field, all the way into the endzone, which was then caught by Ja’marr for the touchdown.
The crowd erupted at Joe’s impressive movement considering his knee and the amazing throw. “Holy Shit! That was a Dime!” you screamed over to Jess as you jumped up and down.
“Look down there!” she said as she shook your arm out of joy.
You looked down and saw Joe facing the suite, on a knee doing what looked like the ‘archer’ pose, and drawing back his bow and arrow. He smiled as he released the imaginary bow straight up at you. Everyone below you in the stands looked up to see what he was paying so close attention to and saw you.
“Awww,” Jess teased.
You moved your hand to your heart as if you were struck by the bow and stumbled back for dramatic effect, and he noticed. Everyone noticed. He waved at you as he got up and a blush rose on your cheeks. It was very clear that the sign on his heart was still reserved for you by his very public declaration of his love for you. If people hadn’t caught on that Joe Burrow had a girlfriend, they sure knew now.
“I love you,” you mouthed to him as he took his helmet off.
“I love you too,” he mouthed back, setting off fireworks in your heart.
A few hours later
The game ended with the Bengals winning 37-24, and people were raving about how Joe was finally looking like himself again. You had the best time watching him absolutely tear it up. You were currently waiting for him to meet you in the suite, pure dopamine coursing through your veins after that electric game.
You were staring out onto the empty field, taking in the feeling. The bright lights and the poster of Joe being lifted up over his friend’s heads after the win that sent them to the Super Bowl last year on the side of the stadium made this all start to feel real. This was going to be a common thing for you, you belonged here.
You heard the door swing open, meaning Joe was finally here. You turned around and saw him standing there with the biggest smile on his face. You ran over and launched yourself into his arms, pressing maybe a dozen kisses around his face.
“You did so good, Joe,” you say in between kisses. “I’m so proud of you,”.
“Thank You,” he laughs as he holds you closer, never wanting to let go now that he had you for good. “I needed that extra kick from the heroine from earlier,”.
“What Kick?” you asked, incredibly confused.
He burst out laughing once he realized what you were thinking of. “Heroine with an e”, he jokes. “Ya know, a girl with extraordinary characteristics and a great way of going about things,”.
“And am I supposed to be the Heroine?” you said as you tilted your head.
“Yes Ma’am,” he nods.
“But what did I say that gave you the extra kick?” you asked, completely oblivious.
“Oh, you know, the ‘L’ word,” he said.
You paused for a few seconds before shouting, “Oh, you mean love?” as you leaned back a little while Joe nodded. “Yup it is true, I love you! I loveeee you Joe Burrow!,” you screamed at the top of your lungs. Normally you would never think of screaming in public like this, but it was a mostly empty stadium and empty suite. Just the two of you and you felt that feeling so strongly and this was the best way to let it out.
“Are you drunk?” He laughs.
“Maybeee a little. Don’t get mad, those stadium cocktails are not for the weak,” you slur. “But that doesn’t make this any different, I still love you. Sober, Drunk, or High,”.
“I love you,” he laughed before leaning in to press a deep kiss onto your pink lips which caused you to stumble back a little, his grip on your waist incredibly strong like he was never going to let go.
You both stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, chatting about the game and how he absolutely loved the feeling he got once he saw you sitting in his suite. And you telling him about how much fun you had at your first football game.
“It was amazing,” you said as you both sat down on the couch in the corner. “I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life ,”.
“I’m glad you had fun,” he grinned, reaching over and entwining your fingers.
“I’m so proud of you, I mean you really killed it. I know the last few games were tough and those clowns wouldn’t shut up about their stupid ‘burrow is overrated’ agenda, but you didn’t let that get to you. You went straight for the crown,”.
Joe started laughing which made you a little confused. “What’s so funny?” you asked.
“Just laughing at the scene. I can’t believe you’re here right now and giving me a motivational speech about football,”.
“We’ll get used to it Joe, I think I’m taking a permanent position as your personal cheerleader,” you say as you run your hand through his wet curls.
“God, I love you,” he says, your smile dropping a little which he notices.
“Hey Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks while absentmindedly rubbing your hand to help you relax.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” you said while looking down at your feet.
“Hey, don’t say that,” he says as he squeezes your hand. “You’re here, that is what matters,”.
“You’re right, I am,” you say as you look back up with a smile. “And I don’t ever plan on leaving. You are what I’ve been waiting for and I finally have what I’ve always wanted. Someone who really loves me and appreciates everything about me. Someone who gets me and makes me feel like I’m on Cloud 9,”.
“I’m done being afraid of Love. You’ve shown me what true love feels like and that you are not like the amateurs. You know exactly how to win a girl over and treat her like she is the most special person in the world,”
“Not only that. You also have someone who is infatuated with you, thinks you’re the coolest girl in the world, the most gorgeous woman to grace the planet, and the most remarkable human being he has ever met,” he adds.
You feel like a breath of fresh air just hit your face and like you could breathe again. It was going to be different this time. It was going to be different because of Joe.
“I love you,” you said to him again.
“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he says as he moves his hand to cup your cheek.
“Good, I’ll never get tired of saying it,” you say as you move your hand onto his which is on your cheek.
“I’m glad we just let things fall into place by itself,” he says. “Well, other than my many attempts to win you over in the beginning. But after I finally won you over, everything was natural. Even this moment,” he says as he moves his hand back to yours, once again entwining your fingers.
“Yeah,” you nod. “Who are we to fight the alchemy?”.
“Alchemy?” He asks as he raises his eyebrow.
“Yup. Same thing as chemistry, but that’s too common of a word to describe this. Alchemy is rare and it’s magical. A kind of transformation that only happens once every few lifetimes,”.
“You turned something broken and dull into gold,” you add. “Alchemy,”.
“Huh, I guess I should use the word Alchemy to describe us from now on,” he says while rubbing your thigh.
You moved closer to his warm body and pressed a slow kiss onto his lips, “Sounds like a plan,”. The love inside of you quickly turned to lust at the sight of your boyfriend plus the alcohol in your system. He looked absolutely mouthwatering. His wet hair from his post game shower, his flowy black shorts, and his partially wet white tee was sending you into overdrive.
“Did I mention how sexy you look wearing my jersey?” he teased as he looked down at your outfit.
“I mean, it is yours so technically you look sexy wearing it too,” you giggled.
“Mmm, you make it look sexier,” he disagrees.
The soft glow of the lamp next to the couch wrapped around you both as you sat on the couch with Joe. The tension between you was palpable, the desire simmering just beneath the surface.
You finally accepted your love for Joe and he was yours. Now you could fully enjoy these moments with him without that nagging thought of getting your heart broken in the back of your mind.
Without saying a word, he reached out and pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce and hungry kiss.
His hands roamed your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't control. The physical connection between you was extremely clear once again. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you building with every passing second.
You straddled his lap, feeling the hard muscles of his chest beneath your fingertips as you ran your hands over his body, desperate for more. Joe's kisses were fierce and demanding, his passion evident in every touch.
Lost in the moment, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you became lost in each other. As the intensity of your passion grew, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a heated embrace. And in that moment, nothing else mattered but the raw love you felt for each other.
You pulled away from the passionate kiss, breathless and your chest heaving. You looked into his ocean blue eyes which were filled with love and warmth and said, “I love you Joe Burrow, forever and ever,”.
You weren’t scared anymore. You stopped fighting the alchemy and let the magical transformation happen just like it was supposed to.
—The End—
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DADDY, I LOVE YOU!
WARNING: Boothill backstory, daughter is alive!, headcanon of Dad!Boothill, fluff/angst, parent!reader.
Inspired by multiple Tiktoks that have plagued my for you page and has left me scarred for days.
Boothill and you had tried to have a baby ever since you first sealed the deal with the rings that now decorated your ring fingers, it may have been very sad for the both of you with the possibility that you'll never have kids but always reminded you that you were enough.
You and him lived a very peaceful life with you and your farm, it had been fun with your never ending honey moon phase.
You told yourself how lucky you were to be able to manage to convince a man like Boothill to marry you and make you his partner, everyday, you enjoyed watching him till the soil as you watched from afar whilst feeding your farm animals.
It was a beautiful life, until...
"Sugarcube, come see this quick!" You heard Boothill yell from the corn field, you ran as quickly as you could in fear that your husband might be injured but when you reached where he was all you saw was his back turned to you while he seemed to hold something in his hands.
"Love, what's wrong?" You began to question.
That's when he turned around, you gasped.
The most beautiful girl was in his hands, draped in a red cloth as she cooed at your husband.
It was so sad to look at knowing that this baby was most likely abandoned but this was a chance given by the aeons— to finally be parents.
You two cared for the little girl as if she was your very own, you two watched as the little grew so fast. She grew to be a daddy's girl, you had to admit that you were jealous at times but you understand that Boothill wanted this parenthood as much as you did.
Life on the farm with your husband and beloved daughter was like a dream, a dream you never ever wanted to wake up from.
"You guys stay here, a'right?" Boothill was stressed and exasperated, he didn't know why but meteors kept raining and sought havoc amongst the planet.
He couldn't think of anything else but to just do everything for you and your daughter to survive whatever this is.
He ran out with his steed to look for more survivors and possibly answers for this phenomenon, along the way, he found food and other necessities that you can live off for a while.
One of the meteors landed nearby which almost knocked him off of his horse but he managed to keep his balance, curious, he approached the meteor and was shocked at this revelation.
His horse was galloping for its life as he wanted to go back to you and your daughter, you two were probably so scared, his eyes watered at the thought as he kept trying to go beyond natural human speed just to get to you.
Once he arrived, he immediately went inside and snatched the two of you to get going and leave the house.
"What's wrong?" You asked as he mounted you onto his horse, your daughter in your arms before he mounted the horse himself.
"They're not meteors... they're fucking time bombs!" He stressed out, immediately guiding the stallion to get going.
As you were trying to leave however, a large debris landed in front of you that almost reached you all and could've killed you.
It made your heart drop.
The once beautiful planet you had both lived in your entire life was now being torn apart for a reason you don't even know why.
"Boothill..." You were crying, holding onto his arms as you tried to escape the inevitable.
He held your hand back to comfort you, he hated seeing you cry, he would hate himself if you didn't survive this catastrophe.
You soon arrive at a desolate land, the houses that once stood were now burning and turned into nothing into ashes.
"Daddy..." A small hand held onto his jacket that stopped him from doing anything.
He looked at you and at your daughter, clad in the same red cloth you both found her in when you first saw her in your corn field all alone, he tried to smile to hide his fear, he needed to be strong for his baby girl.
"I love you..." The girl uttered, trying to reach her father's eyes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
He just broke down immediately, hugging the two of you as he showered you in kisses as he repeated ‘I love yous’ after every kiss.
His eyes opened and saw one of those meteor bombs hurling towards them, you saw it too but it was all too late as it was getting so close. Boothill hugged the two of you once more, his back to the thing that was about to kill you as your bodies protected your little girl for the very last time.
"I love you, Boothill."
Those memories still felt fresh to him as tried to keep himself from crying when he was told that they will be visiting his planet after years, he had lost his body to the explosion but his head somehow managed to survive which gave way to his chance for another life in a robotic body.
But he hated this.
He hated a life without you, a life without your beloved girl.
His planet looked newer now, there were still traces of the tragedy but the people who managed to survive were now getting onto their feet to start anew.
As his others went to gather intel and try to see if there's anything they could help with, his feet unconsciously brought him to what was once your home.
It was weathered and burned down by whatever landed on it, he went inside and looked for something, just anything for aeon's sake.
There, he found a picture that stood mighty amidst the tragedy. A family picture of you and your daughter, you all looked so happy.
He laughed at the memory of that picture, you were all trying to have a decent photoshoot but then your daughter decided to lick your cheek and then went to bite her father's hand. She was a wild child, a wild child he dreamt of seeing to grow up.
"Boothill..." Acheron came in, just handing over some worn cloth to him.
When he received it, she just left.
He was a bit confused but decided to study the cloth, there was a small tag— the same tag on the cloth that he found his little girl in. Inside the cloth was a hairpin, the same hairpin he gifted you on your first wedding anniversary.
He didn't know how, but he felt something inside him shatter.
His two girls. Gone just like that.
He began to break down like before, holding the two pieces that were all left of the two of you close to where his heart once was.
Every night, those bitter sweet memories haunted him in the nights where he sought for peace.
The way he can never seem to forget how you looked at him with such love and... your daughter's very last words to him that echoes throughout his head.
He missed you so dang much, if he could bring back time he'd do so but there was not much he could do other than to respect and spread your memory.
He missed being your husband, he missed being a dad to your beautiful girl.
A/N: Do not ask me how the cloth or the hairpin survived a double homicide (impact by meteor bomb and the explosion of the bomb) because I am not a carcass expert, I just like to add more angst.
(eyes wet and heavy from crying to Tiktoks of Boothil and his daughter. Fuck the IPC)
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail fanfic#honkai sr#HSR#honkai fanfic#honkai angst#boothill#boothill x reader#HSR x reader#angst
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6.1 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, nudity, Bucky's lies come back to bite his ass.
Please note: I'll be taking a break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th to focus on writing, and will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.
Word Count: 1.1k
Previously On...: Porn. The last chapter was porn.
A/N: Sorry, besties; not sure what happened. I set this up to post at 445 per usual, and when I came back on, I saw it still hadn't gone up, so I'm doing it manually. I apologize for this screw up!
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Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Bucky woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets and Major. He had to pee, but he didn’t want to get up. God, he never wanted to get up. If he could stay wrapped up with her like this, for the rest of his life, he thought, he would die happy. The very idea struck him like a brick– he’d given a lot of thought to his own death over the years, but never, not once, did he ever consider the possibility that he might actually die happy until this very moment.
If she was in his life when he went, he realized, he very well could.
Major shifted in her sleep and snuggled further into Bucky’s chest with a contented sigh, and he felt his heart swell. If he wasn’t careful, at the rate his feelings were going, he was at risk of proposing to her before lunch.
After about fifteen more minutes of blissfully watching Major sleep in his arms, Bucky couldn’t hold off his bladder any longer. Gently extricating himself from Major’s embrace so as not to disturb her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom.
After he’d finished and washed his hands, he made his way back toward Major’s bed. As he passed by the string of clothes he’d discarded the night before, he heard a buzzing coming from his pants. He reached down and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID.
Lily. Again.
Bucky sighed and took himself back to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he accepted the call.
“Hey, Lil, what’s up?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of Major’s whirlpool tub.
“Hey, Jamie,” she said, and Bucky could immediately tell something was wrong. She sounded… off, distressed. “Listen,” she continued, “I know you and Sam probably had a late night last night, and I hate bothering you…”
“What’s wrong, Lil?” Bucky asked, growing concerned now.
“Well, I drove out to Langston Park to run the trails,” Lily began, “and I don’t know if I ran over a nail or had a slow leak, or what, but when I got back to the car, my tire was flat. I was kind of hoping you could meet me up here and help me change it?”
Bucky ran a hand over his stubble. “Shit,” he said. “You know I would in a heartbeat, Lil, but–”
“No, yeah,” Lily interrupted him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure someone will drive by and I can flag them down for help–”
“Lily Anne McIntyre, you are not going to wave down a stranger and just hope that they’re not a murderer or a rapist,” Bucky said into the phone, a little louder than he intended. “Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m in the city, so it’s going to take me a little while, okay? Just… just stay in your car with the doors locked until I get there.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Jamie!” Lily’s voice was full of relief. “You’re my hero! I owe you, big time!”
Bucky cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Give me about forty-five minutes to get to you, okay? And remember, lock. your. doors.”
“I promise,” Lily agreed before ending the call.
Bucky stood up from the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom and quietly put his clothes back on. Sitting down at the edge of Major’s side of the bed, he leaned down and began pressing kisses to her shoulder and collarbone until she stirred and started to stretch.
With a lazy moan that sent the blood straight to Bucky’s dick, Major sleepily blinked her eyes open. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she asked him, her voice seductively husky with sleep. “Come back to bed.”
Bucky wanted to. Oh god, he really, really wanted to. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” he told her, leaning down to give her a proper kiss.
“Bucky,” she laughed, pulling back from him, “I just woke up; I’m sure I have horrible morning breath.”
“Like I would ever care.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, gently running his tongue along her lips so she opened her mouth to him.
After a long moment, they broke apart, and Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to go.”
Major nuzzled her cheek against his. “So, don’t,” she murmured. “Stay.”
Bucky sighed. “I can’t. Lily’s got a flat tire; she’s waiting on me to come help her change it.”
Major let out a puff of air through her lips. “Well, give me five minutes to get dressed and I can come with you,” she offered hopefully.
“I’d love that, doll,” Bucky said, frowning, “but Lily’s still pissed off about the bar and…” he ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly realizing how stupid this was going to sound, “I haven’t told her I’ve been seeing you.”
The change that came over Major was nearly imperceptible, but Bucky clocked it, all the same. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed and she pulled back from him by a hair.
“So,” Major began slowly, “where did she think you were last night when she called you, then? You said you’d already told her what you were up to. If she didn’t know you were with me, what did she think you were doing?”
“I told her I was having a guys’ night out in the city with Sam,” Bucky admitted, hating himself now for even deeming the lie necessary in the first place.
“I see.” The words were clipped, Major’s voice void of any emotion, and Bucky knew he’d fucked up. Immensely. “Well, you better get going, then, if Lily’s waiting on you.”
“Major.” Bucky put a hand on her arm, but she got up out of the bed, dragging the topsheet with her to wrap around herself and keep her body covered from him, as if now, suddenly, after everything they’d already done together, she no longer wanted him to see her naked. “Can we just–”
“You should go, Bucky,” she said again, not meeting his eye, and Bucky felt like absolute shit.
“Can I call you later?” he asked, and he heard the note of desperation in his own voice, but Major just shrugged a shoulder. He tried to lean in to her to give her a kiss goodbye, but she stood there, still as a statue, so he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed before showing himself to the door.
He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up, and he’d blown it. She’d probably never want to see him again, and honestly, could he blame her? He’d lied about being with her, like she was some kind of dirty secret. Sam had been right, though Bucky would never admit it to him. Why was he letting Lily’s opinion dictate how he lived his life?
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 7
[chap six] | [all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Sooo, I did not mean to take a three week hiatus from this fic :) I had so much of this chapter written within a couple of days and then abruptly stopped writing entirely, literally couldn't work on any of my stories. But now the writers block has passed and we FINALLY have an update, and boy these chapters just keep getting longer as the story goes on. I hope this one makes up from my recent absence~
wc: 6.6k
Chapter Seven
Wednesday morning was supposed to start like it always did - small talk with your mom over a bowl of cereal and then running out the door before the conversation whittled down to awkwardness. You wish you could appreciate your mother’s efforts to try to connect with you, but she never asked about anything beyond school and skating - once those two subjects were exhausted, it was as if you two had nothing more to talk about.
But today was different. Today, your dad was actually sitting at the breakfast table instead of rushing to his office before you even came downstairs. Today, your head was a little fuzzy from drinking the night before. Today, you wished you had just run out the door and skipped breakfast, because you could see right away that your parents wanted to have a conversation.
You paused briefly in the kitchen entry, looking between the two before trying to act casual, walking towards the pantry and preparing a quick breakfast. You could feel their eyes following you, and damn did you wish someone would just say something. Your father always acted like this before a serious conversation - he stayed silent to intimidate you, to put you on edge in hopes that it would make you more pliable to what he had to say. You’d always assumed he did this to clients and business associates as well, as if to suggest some kind of dominance over them. Well, you weren’t going to let it get to you that easily, you never did before.
You sat at the opposite end of the table from your father, your mom hovering at the kitchen sink although there were no dishes to be cleaned. You started to eat as if you were totally unphased by their watchful eyes, as if you were entirely oblivious to their stares, although you knew neither of them bought the act for a second. One of you was going to cave eventually, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.
Sure enough, your mom spoke first as she approached the table, just like you expected her to, “You have practice after school today?”
You gave her a critical look before nodding - you knew that she knew you always skated on Wednesday, making that a pretty pathetic attempt at breaking the tension in the room.
“Are you actually going?” Your father asked in an accusatory tone, although he maintained a neutral expression so as not to give away what he was thinking.
You couldn’t help the mean look in your eyes as you met his intense gaze. Your tone was stubborn and cold, “Yes.”
“And will that boy be there?” The disdain in your father’s words was clear as day. Your brow knotted at the question, both because you didn’t like his tone and because you wondered how he found out about Eddie already.
“Boy?” Your tone was mocking - you weren’t feigning ignorance, but rather presenting your father with a challenge, daring him to elaborate on what had gotten his mood so twisted. And it was clear in his face that he didn’t appreciate your attitude one bit.
“Mrs. Redford saw you two together on Friday.” Your mother chimed in, hoping to serve as the calm mediary considering that you and your father were both intense, mean people.
Of course it was Mrs. Redford who told your mom about Eddie - she was such a damn gossip, and with her daughter participating in your skating lessons, you should have known she would have noticed you leaving with Eddie that night. She was drawn to drama and gossip as if it was the air she breathed, so it was certainly no surprise that she ran off to tell your parents about this new boy that she spotted you with.
“Why does it matter?” You dropped your spoon in the forgotten breakfast that sat in front of you, slouching into your seat in growing frustration.
“Because he’s clearly a troublemaker.” Your dad’s tone matched yours, causing you to roll your eyes, “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.”
Your jaw clenched at the threat in his voice, “How could you possibly know someone is trouble without even meeting them?”
Your father pressed his palm to the table firmly, “Because I know his type - a lazy punk only interested in skating by and disrespecting the establishment. I’m a good judge of character.”
“How?” You insisted with exasperation, causing your father to look down on you as if you were some stupid kid.
“You were out way past curfew last night - were you with him?” Your dad glowered, and evidently your expression gave him the answer he wanted, “You ran out the door without telling your mother where you were going or who you were with. She saw you climb into some van, for Christ sake. And the way Mrs. Redford described this hoodlum? The leather, the hair, the tattoos? What’s gotten into you?”
You held your ground firmly, glaring as you crossed your arms, “I don’t see what the issue is.”
“The issue is you’re acting out, you’re avoiding us, and this boy you’re seeing seems to be encouraging this behavior!” Your father raised his voice, “I don’t care that you’re eighteen now, you still live under my roof.”
“You don’t care about anything!” You can’t help but shout back, “You only care now because you’re worried I’ll make you look bad. You’re worried about stupid gossip!”
“That’s not what this is about!”
“We’re just worried about you,” Your mother tried to intervene in an even tone, drawing the attention of the both of you, “We don’t want you to lose sight of what’s important just because of a boy.”
You throw up your hands in defiance, your voice harsh, “What important things am I ‘losing sight of!?’”
“Don’t take that tone with your mother!” Your dad jumped back in, “The last thing you need your senior year is some punk distracting you from school, from skating. You need to consider your future. Don’t you want to get into a good school? Don’t you want to skate?”
“I don’t know what I want!” You admitted angrily, “Maybe I don’t want to go to college or skate or do the shit you tell me to! Maybe I just want to enjoy life a little.”
“Enjoying life doesn’t get you anywhere.” Your father glared, “We tell you these things to help you. So, stop hanging around this boy and start focusing on your future.”
“You didn’t care what I was doing before, why do you care now?” You challenged coldly, “You didn’t care when I was out late with Duncan, you didn’t care when I’d miss practice because I’d be out with Amelia or Janet. You only care now because it’s Eddie.”
You instantly realized you shouldn’t have mentioned his name. Not yet, at least, not in the middle of this argument. Yes, you wanted your parents to know you were “dating” some new, troublesome guy, but you didn’t want them to actually know who he was yet - you had hoped to build up a little more suspense first, a little more tension between you all. You hoped your face didn’t give away what you were thinking.
“Eddie?” Your father laughed as he said the name, “You call things off with this Eddie now, do you hear me?”
You looked between your parents’ faces - your father looked as stern and condescending as ever, and your mom looked like she was away somewhere in thought. Perhaps she was trying to pinpoint any Eddies she’d heard of before and figure out who the hell he is.
A frustrated sound leapt from your throat as you rose to your feet aggressively, the legs of your chair making a grating sound on the floor.
“Whatever,” You spun around to leave, seeing the time on the wall clock before shooting your parents a mocking look, “I’m going to be late. Great job getting me back on track.”
You knew just how rude your tone was, so you practically ran out of the kitchen to avoid your father’s wrath.
“Excuse me!?” His offended voice shouted after you. You scooped up your school bag and your car keys, running out the door without looking back.
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Just like you suspected, you were late for your first period class, receiving a reprimanding from your teacher, which only served to piss you off even more. Today just wasn’t your fucking day. So, by the time you walked into your math class a couple hours later, it was actually something of a relief to see Eddie already there; why you were actually pleased to see him was a thought you weren’t quite ready to entertain.
He grinned once he spotted you, but the way you flopped into your seat caused his face to immediately twist with curiosity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his legs situated in the aisle between you two.
“Feeling hungover, princess?” He asked with only a small jest in his tone, as if he could tell that you weren’t in the mood right now. His eyebrows furrowed together as you glared, although you knew he wasn’t the one that deserved the cold look.
“No.” You groaned, your jaw clenched tight enough to hurt your teeth. You sighed through your nose, trying to collect yourself - it was stupid to let this frustration eat at you, although you were always prone to holding onto grudges.
Eddie nudged your knee softly, so you met his eyes again. He stared at you patiently and inquisitively, “So, what’s wrong?”
You considered for a moment whether or not you wanted to tell him. With a sigh, you sat up in your seat, turning so that you mirrored Eddie, legs in the aisle and knees brushing his. You let your knees rest there, allowing the small amount of contact as if you needed it to ground you, as if you even enjoyed it.
“It’s my parents.” You start, looking down at where your knees met his. Your skirt was short and his jeans were ripped, so you were skin-to-skin. It didn’t matter, of course, you were simply trying to find something else to focus on, “They aren’t thrilled about you.”
“Oh, so you told them?” Eddie gave you a small grin, hoping to lighten your mood a little. And you wouldn’t admit it, but it was already beginning to work.
“One of my neighbors saw us together.” The bell rang in the middle of your sentence, but neither of you faced forward, eyes staying locked on one another.
“You seem pretty worked up about it.” His quiet tone had a hint of question to it, clearly wondering what exactly happened with your parents. Your teacher began going down the attendance sheet and the focus of today’s lesson.
“My dad’s a dick.” You responded in a whisper, “Just grilling me about shit - about you - as if I were a damn criminal or something.”
The sound of your name on your teacher’s lips drew your attention, and you harshly met her stare, “Would you two like to join the class now?”
You rolled your eyes as Eddie smiled lazily, the both of you turning to face forward. He reached out to give your knee one more playful nudge, as if to assure you that all would be well.
As the teacher began her lesson, you and Eddie kept stealing glances at one another conspiratorially, which helped to slowly ease the tension in your shoulders, to slowly relax your mood. After another couple of minutes, Eddie held a folded piece of paper between the two of you, obviously intending for you to read it. You slyly took it from him, fingers brushing against his as you wondered what he possibly had to say right now.
I think I can win him over.
The silly little doodle accompanying the note emphasized the joke, and you couldn’t help but grin at it just a little. You side-eyed Eddie, catching the way he smiled mischievously at you. With a roll of your eyes, you scribbled down a reply and handed it to him.
All the charm in the world wouldn’t win him over.
You watched Eddie’s face out of the corner of your eye, awaiting his reply with a hint of eagerness. The note was back in your hand once again.
So you admit I’m charming?
A small huff of a laugh escaped you as you rolled your eyes, beginning to write a response. But a presence walking down the aisle drew your attention, noticing your teacher was walking right to you. Your stomach dropped a little, realizing you were caught, but you simply looked up at her as if you did nothing wrong.
“Is there something you two would like to share with everyone?” She asked accusatory, crossing her arms in reprimand. You held her eyes with a challenging stare - god, this day just kept giving you hit after hit.
“Nothing in particular.” You retorted, hearing someone in the room make a nonplussed sound. Your teacher glowered at your attitude.
“Then I suggest you follow along or take this little conversation to detention.”
You gave her a mean, mocking smile, baring your teeth almost as if it was a threat, “I’ll take the detention, please.”
Again, more surprised sounds from the teacher and from students. You dared to look over at Eddie, who looked both taken aback and impressed at how difficult you were being today.
“Excuse me?” Your teacher challenged you.
Your eyes were dark as you stood your ground, “Detention. Please.”
The teacher looked between both you and Eddie with a huff, but a moment later a decisive look crossed her features, which put you on edge.
“Fine, if that’s how you want it to be. You can go to detention. Mr. Munson will stay here.” You gaped, your eyes glaring at the back of her head as she turned to walk back towards her desk, “No point in sending the both of you, right?”
You hated the fact that even your teacher was now mocking you, resented the fact that this day just kept piling more shit on your shoulders. You shared a look with Eddie, who looked sorry for landing you in trouble; you thought that you should’ve been upset at him for it, but you weren’t. It seemed like Eddie was the only person not getting on your last nerve today.
You rose to your feet as your teacher walked back towards you, a slip of paper in her hand outstretched to you. Haphazardly, you threw all your belongings in your bag before aggressively snatching the note from your teacher.
“You give that to the detention attendant, I don’t want to hear that you ran out on it.” She instructed with that hint of satisfaction in her tone. You glowered back at her.
“Bite me.” You spun on your heels as various students made, yet again, sounds of excitement at the harsh tone and words you threw at the teacher. As she started spewing some kind of reprimand that you weren’t listening to, you marched out of the room.
What a fucking day. You stomped down the hall, steam practically coming from your ears with how pissed off you were. In annoyance, you balled up the detention slip and tossed it at the nearest trash can, although you missed, which irritated you even more.
You’d never gotten detention before. Under different circumstances, you probably would have been thrilled to be sent to detention, to finally be enough trouble for a teacher to send you off. But after the morning you’ve been having, all you could feel was frustration.
Less than a minute after you stomped out of math class, you heard a door swing open and hit a wall somewhere behind you, prompting you to turn towards the noise. And once you saw who it was, you couldn’t help but smile with a surprising sense of glee.
Eddie Munson, your knight in shining armor.
He dashed down the hall to catch up with you, smiling just as widely as you were as he practically skidded to a halt in front of you. A small laugh escaped you as he hunched over in an attempt to catch his breath. He looked up at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Let’s get out of here.” He instructed simply, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall with him. You allowed yourself to be led through the school, your smile settling into a simple, pleased smirk, relieved to have Eddie’s company.
“And where are we off to?” You asked, receiving a shrug from Eddie. Once you two had turned into a new hallway, he slowed so you could walk side-by-side, experimentally sliding his hand into yours. Once again, you still felt hesitant at more intimate contact such as this, but you allowed it without cringing too hard.
“Anywhere but here, you troublemaker.” He teased with a content smile, guiding you towards the school exit.
“So, we’re skipping?” You inquired, and you had to admit the idea really appealed to you right now - you’d had enough of today, and if you didn’t escape you thought you might explode with utter frustration.
“If that’s alright with you, princess.” Eddie gave you a silly expression while bumping your shoulder.
“Please get me the hell out of here.”
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The most time you’d ever spent in a video arcade was for one pathetic round of Galaga while on a date with a boy your freshman year. Following that, you decided arcades weren’t for you - they were always crowded with a bunch of kids running around and shouting, and you’d branded all the adults that spent time at arcades as total losers. What could possibly be so appealing about games designed for children?
So, when Eddie pulled up in front of the Palace Arcade, you gave him a critical look, which he chose to ignore entirely as he stepped out of the van. He rounded to your side and opened the door, offering you a hand like a royal stepping out of a coach. You looked between his hand and his face for a moment, still judging the choice to come to an arcade. Reading the look on your face all too well, Eddie pulled his own affronted expression.
“What, too good for arcade games?” He put on an over-the-top, almost Shakespearean tone while placing a melodramatic hand to his chest, “But I’ve brought you to the Palace, the finest establishment in town for the ice princess.”
You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh at him, unwilling to admit that even Eddie’s dumbest jokes were starting to win you over. Nonetheless, you took his outstretched hand with a large sigh, stepping out of the van despite your lack of interest in this place. Eddie, of course, smiled triumphantly, closing the door behind you and leading you into the arcade.
Given that it was only about noon, the place was virtually dead, which was quite the relief - no need to worry about loud, annoying kids getting in the way. Aside from the two of you and the Palace employee, there was a group of three college-aged boys clustered around Frogger and a lone man focused on something called Paperboy. None of the patrons looked up when you and Eddie entered, and the only reason the employee took any note of you is because it was simply his job. Of course, once he spotted you, he did a double-take.
The employee’s jaw hung slack as if in disbelief, and he nervously greeted you two, trying to keep his attention on Eddie. It appeared that the two were familiar with one another, and you wondered if Eddie really spent that much time here or if maybe this was a guy that used to go to school with the two of you. Either way, their interaction wrapped up quickly, and Eddie dragged you to the change machine.
As Eddie inserted a few bills, you looked around at the other arcade patrons, who finally seemed to take notice of you. In the group near Frogger, one of the boys nudged his friends, insisting they both look up; none so subtly, they all looked at you as the music from their arcade cabinet seemed to signal game over. You looked back with a raised brow and cold eyes, causing them all to quickly look away, although you were certain you’d probably catch them spying again. As you gazed back at Eddie, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips - there was something about being the only chick in the arcade that amused you, something about being totally out of place and totally out of Eddie’s league.
Eddie stashed the change in his pocket, holding out a few quarters that you tentatively took from his hand.
“What first, princess?” You looked at him with a judgmental expression, causing him to narrow his eyes critically, “Come on, this’ll be fun.”
“Sure…” You looked around and assessed the arcade, pointing at the nearest cabinet without any consideration, “That one.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh at your choice while shaking his head, knowing you didn’t care one bit what game you started with, “Dig Dug, huh?”
You made another face at him, so he simply rolled his eyes and led you towards the game. He leaned against the cabinet while crossing his arms, giving you an expectant look; in turn, your brow scrunched.
Eddie shrugged, “Well, go for it - this one was your idea.”
“I don’t want to.” You responded as if affronted by the suggestion, “You play.”
Eddie once again rolled his eyes with an exacerbated grin, “I don’t play Dig Dug.”
“Then play something else.” You instructed stubbornly.
“You aren’t getting out of this one.” Eddie countered, motioning towards the cabinet he still rested against, “So, be a big girl and play the game.”
You gaped at his response, feeling a slight stir at his word choice. There was a challenging glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t going to back down easily, that he could volley with you all damn day. As you closed your mouth with a small purse to your lips, you looked around the arcade with a raised brow.
“I don’t want to play that one.” You crossed your arms, to which Eddie once more smirked at your stubborn determination.
“Then choose a different one.” He responded while mimicking your body language.
You narrowed your eyes at him before your gaze studied the rows of arcade cabinets, recognizing none of the names. This was something you were grossly uneducated on, arcades making just about as much sense to you as a foreign language. It wasn’t until you finally recognized the name of one that you allowed yourself to meet Eddie’s stare again.
“Okay. That one.” You once again pointed past his shoulder, so Eddie twisted around to see which cabinet finally caught your interest. A faint laugh escaped him as he looked back to you with an amused expression across his face.
“Oh, you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong.” His tone seemed to be daring you to argue, to prove him wrong. You pulled another face at him.
“I don’t like any of these. But I’ve seen that stupid monkey before.” Eddie shrugged in acceptance of your response as he continued to grin, pushing off the Dig Dug cabinet.
“If you insist.” He taunted while turning to walk towards Donkey Kong, you following behind him with a huff. But as you were nearly there, the gang of college kids beat you to it, causing both you and Eddie to halt; he began to turn to you, prepared to ask what the new plan was now that the one cabinet you showed interest in was taken.
Of course, you weren’t about to have that. Sure, you didn’t care an ounce about these video games and you had zero interest in actually playing, but you’d already had enough today, and you’d be damned if you let these guys play Donkey Kong instead of you. So, you brushed past Eddie with a determined look, marching up to them with all the authority in the world.
“Excuse you,” You started rudely, drawing all their eyes in your direction. None of the three really looked like the nerdy type, so none of them backed down from you the way that you were used to, “I’m playing that one.”
They shared a laugh, clearly amused by your attempt to intimidate them. One of the boys countered, “You’re outta luck, we were here first.”
You insisted more firmly, “Just move.”
One of them looked between you and Eddie, provoked by your attitude, “There’s a whole arcade, go find something else to play.”
They returned to the arcade cabinet as if you weren’t even there, which pissed you off even more. You groaned loudly, looking at Eddie and pointing harshly at the boys as if there was something he could possibly do about them. He simply shook his head and grabbed your elbow, lightly tugging you along.
“They beat us to it.” He said as if there was some unspoken arcade rule that you weren’t familiar with. You glared at the boys as Eddie led you down the row, grinning as if to calm you down, “Come on, I got something I think you’ll like.”
“Doubtful.” You countered like a child, catching the way Eddie smiled to himself, both amused and enervated by your attitude. The two of you came to a halt in front of something called Tapper, and you glanced up at Eddie, awaiting an explanation.
“This one’s easy,” he started while presenting the cabinet to you, “Just serve drinks.”
“Okay…” You took in the pixelated graphics on the screen, hesitantly holding up a coin as you considered the game.
“Come on, just give it a try.” Eddie urged. You looked at the simple instructions next to the joystick while finally loading the coin into the machine. As the game began, Eddie turned his attention to the next cabinet over.
Eddie was right about this game being easy, at least for the first few rounds, although once you reached the first “game over” screen you groaned with frustration. That didn’t stop you from inserting another coin and trying again, much to Eddie’s amusement. You were getting the hang of this and, although you weren’t ready to admit it, you were coming to even enjoy Tapper.
Eventually, you ran out of coins, so you returned your attention to Eddie, who had been caught up in his own game. You watched him for a few moments before realizing the college boys were no longer at the Donkey Kong cabinet. Although you shouldn’t have cared so much, you nonetheless felt a sudden eagerness to run over and hog the game you previously missed out on. Hell, you didn’t even know what that game was about, but considering your previous snub, you now simply had to play this damn game.
So, you turned your gaze back to Eddie, who was incredibly focused on the shooting game he was in the middle of, “Donkey Kong is open.”
“So, go play.” He responded with a far off tone, clearly caught up in what he was doing.
“I don’t have any coins.”
In an almost silly motion, Eddie nudged his hip in your direction, “I have some in my pocket.”
You looked down towards his hips, wondering why he didn’t simply pull his hand from the game for a moment to give you a few coins.
Impatiently, his eyes flicked over to you for only a moment; he could tell what you were thinking, “Just reach in and grab a few.”
“Uh, no.” Your voice oozed with attitude.
“Then no Donkey Kong.” He replied with a simple shrug. With a slight glare, you looked between his face and the screen, watching his hectic game for a few long moments. Your gaze drifted back towards Donkey Kong with a mild longing, but you quickly righted yourself - you did not care that much about a stupid arcade game. You could wait until Eddie was done, you didn’t need to play it that bad.
The sound of the front door opening drew your attention as a new man entered the arcade, and your first thought was “shit, is he going to play Donkey Kong?” Why the hell did you care so much? But you couldn’t risk missing out on the game again, so you returned your attention back to Eddie, taking him by total surprise as you reached into his pocket and extracted a handful of coins quickly before you could think about how intimate that action was.
“Jesus, warn a guy before you go digging around in his pants.” Eddie chided with a playful grin, not allowing his gaze to stray from the shooter in front of him.
“Shut up.” You countered while marching towards Donkey Kong, determination etched across your face as you relished in the stupid victory of finally being about to play this damn game.
Of course, you very quickly learned why Eddie had told you before that you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong. Your dumb little man in overalls lost all his lives within the first minute of you playing, and you let out an exasperated sigh as you slapped your hand down on the control panel. With a glare, you loaded another coin in, but due to your frustration you died even quicker than you had the first time, letting out another upset sound before you marched away from Donkey Kong as if the game had personally offended you.
Eddie was still focused on Robotron as you returned to his side with a huff, the sound causing the corner of his mouth to pull up. You glared at his face, “That game is stupid.”
“I told you.” He answered simply, amused by how easily you gave up on it.
“Why doesn’t it work?”
“Have you considered that you’re just bad at it?” Eddie’s eyes briefly look at you, that annoying grin of his not faltering for a moment. Your glare darkened as you turned to walk off, but Eddie’s voice stopped you from going anywhere, “Oh, come on, just wait. I’ll show you how to play the stupid monkey game.”
So, you waited impatiently for Eddie’s game to end, your eyes repeatedly drifting over to Donkey Kong as if in fear that someone else would take the machine from you. Once he was finally done with Robotron, Eddie gave you a teasing look, knowing that you were eager to return to the game that you supposedly didn’t like. With an adamant look, you spun around and marched back towards the machine, knowing that he was following right behind you.
“Just watch, I’ll play the first level for you.” Eddie instructed while loading in the money. He craned his neck back and forth, shaking out his arm as if he were warming up for some epic fight; you nearly smiled, but kept it to yourself. You leaned over Eddie’s shoulder a little as he began, “You have to be fast - this machine has a bit of a lag, so you need to think ahead.”
So, you watched Eddie play, annoyed at just how easy he made it look; evidently, he had a fair amount of practice. And with the first level completed in what appeared to be record time, Eddie stepped back, yanking you quickly in front of the screen to take over the controls. Just as quickly as the level started, though, you lost a life, jumping right into the line of a pixelated enemy. A frustrated noise left you, causing Eddie to laugh from behind you.
“You’ve got two more lives,” He stepped up closer to you, reaching around to put his hand over the jump button, “Lemme help.”
Working together, you managed to make a little bit of progress, but you all too quickly lost again, shoving the joystick in the wrong direction. As you huffed in annoyance once more, Eddie placed his free hand on the small of your back as if to remind you to calm down, the touch nearly causing you to jump from its gentleness.
“Okay, new plan.” Eddie stepped behind you, close enough that your back bumped against his chest. Your shoulders stiffened as he settled his hands on top of yours, your heart skipping as you realized you were pinned between him and the stupid Donkey Kong machine. Thank god he was behind you, because otherwise he would’ve seen the way your cheeks went red, the way your eyes widened with surprise.
You could feel Eddie’s breath against your ear, practically causing you to shudder, “Alright, let’s do this.”
As the level started again, you were grateful that Eddie was taking the reins, controlling your hands with his own, because your brain was way too jumbled to think clearly. Why the hell were you so nervous? How was Eddie Munson doing this to you? You were certain it had more to do with your disdain for people touching you, but you were far too confused to even begin to entertain why you felt so anxious with Eddie practically flush against your back.
You were so zoned out that you hadn’t even realized that the level was complete until Eddie stepped back, a victorious little laugh escaping him. Before you had time to even get your head on straight, the third level began, but you all too quickly fumbled, your game coming to a pathetic end. Composing yourself, you meet Eddie’s eyes with total coolness, hoping that the redness of your cheeks had gone away. His expression didn’t seem to indicate that he noticed anything off about you, so you took a deep breath.
“Help me again.” You instructed as you fished a coin from your pocket. Eddie looked mildly surprised by the instruction, as if he too was just realizing how intimate his assistance was the first time. You simply raised a brow at him while loading the machine with money, straightening your shoulders as he came up behind you once again.
You tried to focus on the game this time as Eddie placed his hands on top of yours again, doing your best to ignore how warm he was behind you, the way his cheek brushed against the crown of your head, how his grip on your hands seemed to be a little bit more firm. You took a couple of deep breaths and focused, approaching this the same way you did skating - with attentiveness to the goal. And your goal was to ignore Eddie and actually beat a level of this god damn monkey game.
So, you watched your little man run and jump across the screen studying the timing as Eddie moved your hands with his own, noting the subtle delay between the control command and the character movement on the screen. Even as you began to understand, you still recognized that it wasn’t going to be easy for you to beat as a total novice to gaming. As the first level came to an end, Eddie began to step back, his hands hovering just over yours, but you turned your head quickly, practically bumping foreheads as he stopped pulling away.
“Wait, one more round.” You instructed, his face so close to yours that you practically went cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze. You saw Eddie’s jaw clench slightly before you faced forward again, his hands settling on top of yours once way.
By the time you two completed the second level, you were grinning triumphantly, satisfied that you were winning, even if only because Eddie was helping you. As the screen went black for a brief moment, you glanced at the content expression of Eddie behind you, feeling his chin move against your head as he, too, smiled largely.
Instead of pulling away, Eddie asked simply, “One more?”
You hummed in agreement as the third level started, once more studying Eddie’s timing as he breezed through the game as if he’d played it a hundred times. For all you knew, he probably had. Just like with his guitar, Eddie’s hands moved with expertise, guiding yours with ease as you two once again completed the course on screen. This time, you let Eddie step back, feeling a little nervous as you realized you had to face Donkey Kong alone again. You also felt a very mild wave of disappointment, but you quickly shoved that aside so you could focus on your game.
But, of course, you struggled without Eddie’s assistance, fumbling the jump time and losing a life. You took a deep breath through your nose as you tried to focus, feeling Eddie’s gaze burning into you as the level started over. You tried to ignore the intensity of his stare as you started again, running through the level as fast as you could. You managed to get much farther than before, but you nonetheless made another mistake.
You looked towards Eddie, prepared to ask him for help, but he shut you down before you got a word out, “Oh no, you wanted to play this, remember? I can’t keep playing for you.”
You pouted only for a moment, returning your attention to the screen, trying and failing once more to beat the game. You threw your head back with an annoyed groan, stepping away from Donkey Kong while crossing your arms.
“I don’t see why people play this stupid game, it’s impossible.” You whined, causing Eddie to laugh while rolling his eyes.
“That’s the point - it’s challenging. You can’t be a winner all the time.” He teased while dipping his head down closer to yours, seeing right through your frustrations. To Eddie, it was obvious that you weren’t used to losing, and he loved how worked up you were getting over an arcade game of all things.
“If I’m not going to win, then I don’t want to play.” You countered childishly, your eyebrow raised as if daring him to comment on that. You spun on your heel and began to walk away from the offensive game cabinet, hearing Eddie following behind you.
“That’s part of the fun, ya know.” He started. You half expected him to sling his arm over your shoulders as he normally did, but this time he refrained, as if all that contact during Donkey Kong was just a little too much for one day. You threw him a look.
“Well, it’s not fun for me.” You weren’t sure where the hell you were walking off to considering that there wasn’t anywhere in the Palace to hide, but you were too caught up in simply being stubborn. Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes with a hint of fondness as he lightly snagged your arm and stopped you. You met eyes, Eddie grinning at your attitude that he was quickly becoming accustomed to.
“You say that now, but I guarantee you’ll be asking me to bring you back.” He teased, receiving a small glare from you in response. He shook his head a little, “Let’s go, your pouting is making this no fun.”
You could tell Eddie was just taunting you, so you gave his shoulder a small shove while pulling away from his hold. You wouldn’t dare admit that you actually had some fun, so instead you began for the exit, your tone nonchalant as you responded, “Thank god, if I stay here any longer the nerds might try to convert me.”
Behind you, Eddie shook his head fondly as he followed you out.
.
.
additional a/n: shoutout to Tapper for being my favorite arcade game
taglist: @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson
@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson
@em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @kthomps914
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#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things#em#dos and donts
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These Destined Ends
Part Fourteen
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: and they were cousins, poison, brief descriptions of violence and death
A/N: Thank you to everyone for being patient with me while I slowly update TDE🥺❤️���🩹 Hopefully this chapter was worth it, I apologize beforehand for the lack of smut and the abundance of plot
You stare at the document in your hands, realization trickling in slowly, then with more force — a dam eroding before the subsequent flood. The longer you look at it the more the words and symbols swim before your eyes. How could this be? Had Jessica known about this?
She had to have, you puzzle, if it was in the study. Why didn’t she tell you? Could it be that she just never got the chance?
Or was she hiding it?
“You could at least look a little bit excited to see me.”
“Oh, Asha, I —” the content of the document promptly vanishes from your mind as it works instead to compute the image of Asha standing in the doorway of the study. “Asha!”
A shriek tears from you and you race across the room to your friend, embracing her tightly. She laughs against you. “There’s the welcome that I was expecting.”
“I’m sorry, I — actually, it doesn’t matter. What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” You hold her at arms length, examining her to make sure that she looks healthy and unharmed. “Are they treating you well?”
“The servants went sent ahead to prepare the rooms,” Asha says. “And I’m fine. How are you? Am I an aunt yet?”
There’s nothing you can do to suppress your eye roll, but you squeeze her hand assuringly. “You’ll be the first person to know.”
“Mm. The na-Baron needs to get on it.”
“Get on what?”
“Me,” you say. At the same time, Asha blurts, “Nothing!”
Feyd has replaced Asha in the doorway. He looks unfairly handsome, his skin retaining a little more color than usual from the Arrakis suns. Well, a red color, one that you’ve assurred him would fade.
Probably.
Seeing him makes your stomach flip. You’ve left the document out on the desk, and you glance at it quickly. But if he picks up on your panic, he doesn’t mention it.
“I suspected it was you when I heard all of the shrieking,” Feyd says. Then, this time to Asha, “I’m glad that you’re here.”
“Thank you, na-Baron,” Asha says with a dip of her chin.
“Do you need something?” You ask him. As casually as you can, you return to the desk and slip the document into your pocket.
Feyd’s lips twitch. “Can a husband not just visit his wife?”
“A husband can,” you retort, “but I have the sense that you are here as the na-Baron. Not my husband.”
“Is there a difference?”
You look to Asha. “I’ll be right back,” you promise her. Not daring to say anything in front of Feyd, she nods. You trail after Feyd into the hallway, who sets a swift pace, striding away from the study and out of ear shot.
“There’s a problem,” he tells you in a hushed tone.
“Other than the fact that you just stole me away as soon as my best friend arrived?”
Feyd ignores this. “My brother has generously invited Irulan and her family to the feast tomorrow night.”
“What?”
“The Emperor has declined the invitation but Irulan has elected to attend. Even though her father won’t be there, I suspect he’ll send an army of reinforcements for her.”
You mull over this new information. Both of you fall silent as a pair of soldiers pass by, then you whisper, “Could they suspect our plan?”
“No. Impossible.” Feyd shakes his head. “I’m sure the Baron just wants to remind House Corrino of their hand in…this.” He waves his hand to encompass the palace as you walk through it.
“Dethroning my family by having them killed?”
Feyd stops and pivots to you, grabbing your wrist. “I haven’t forgotten. But neither have they. We must keep our wits about us if we hope to be successful.”
“Right. I know.” You free yourself from his grip.
“You can’t let your emotions distract you.”
“They won’t.”
Feyd inspects your face, and he’s quiet for quite some time. “You’re hiding something from me.”
“No I’m not,” you reply reflexively. Feyd raises a brow. A scowl crosses your features and, reluctantly, you ask him, “What do you know of my…lineage?”
“I told you, you must not —”
“Just answer the question,” you snap. He’s acting as if you’re a petulant child, liable to pitch a fit.
Feyd recites what he knows, what you’ve told him — how your mother’s parents were never revealed to her. His mouth forms a severe line. “Why?”
There’s a fleeting moment in which you debate whether or not you’ll share the information with him. Ultimately, you know that you will never be able to keep it a secret. With hesitance you draw the document from your pocket and give it to him. Feyd’s eyes flash curiously to yours then back to the paper before reading it.
His expression remains unchanged. He hands the paper back to you. “I’m not surprised.”
“You’re not surprised?”
You were cousins. Cousins.
“I didn’t know, obviously,” he says, his voice nearing a growl. Then something in him softens slightly. “I’m referencing the inexplicable…connection that I have always felt. That you must’ve felt. Our hearts knew the same blood ran in our veins before our minds did.”
“You’re okay with this?” You ask.
Feyd lifts a shoulder, diplomatic as ever. “It is not unheard of. Besides, I am too entranced with you to let this affect me. If anything it just cements the bond that we have.”
He draws you close to him, his chin resting on the top of your head. You find comfort in the pulse of his heart under your ear, the familiar scent that you’ve associated with him. “You are me,” he says finally.
You smile softly. “And I am you.”
Late into the evening you help Asha with prepping for your esteemed guests, working alongside the other servants and sneaking sips of the spice wine. They’re unsure of you, at first, but Asha quickly puts them at ease with a few unflattering anecdotes. You laugh with them. It’s been too long of a time since you’ve really laughed, spent time with people who didn’t have any expectations of you except the ones that Asha dashed — you were not quite as scary as you looked, and you did not lash out at others at the slightest provocation.
“You’re confusing me for my husband,” you told them then, to weary laughter. You might not have been a threat to them, but they were all afraid of Feyd-Rautha. Understandably.
It’s a nice reprieve until you awake the next morning with a twinge of a spice headache and a spiraling sense of doom. What if your pain failed? What if something happened to you — or Feyd?
“Quit it.”
You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, draped in your finest dress. Feyd stands before the vanity and you watch him slip the Gom Jabbar into a hidden compartment in his sleeve. “Quit what?” You ask, fear tightening your chest.
“Worrying,” he says.
You meet his eyes in the mirror. A protest forms on your tongue but you know it would be futile to pretend that you aren’t worrying considering that he knows every subtle change in your expression. When you fail to reply, he turns to you, straightening out the cuffs of his smart jacket.
“Everything will be fine,” he tells you.
“You don’t know that.”
“I have never made a habit of being wrong.”
You fix him with an exasperated look. “We have no idea how this is going to play out.”
“We’re going to take back control from the hands of our oppressors,” Feyd says, his rasping voice like a lullaby. His long stride devours the space between you until he’s positioned himself practically between your legs. “We will finally take what we deserve.”
“I know. I know,” you say again with more conviction. You roll your shoulders back and try to emulate some of Feyd’s unwavering confidence, but he hardly looks convinced.
Gazing down at you, Feyd brushes his knuckles over the bannister of your cheek. “No harm will come to you. I won’t allow it.”
“And I won’t allow any harm to come to you.”
His hand pauses. Feyd’s thumb and forefinger captures your chin, lifts it up. “Promise me that you will not jeopardize your safety for mine.”
Not for the first time, you admire the angles of his face — the smooth brow, the dark eyes looking down at you over his straight nose; the plush lips that you cannot look at without picturing them over your most sensitive parts. Your heart pangs. You would do anything for him.
You tell him in an equally soft tone, “I can’t promise you that.”
“You must.” His grip on your chin tightens.
“We’ve already established that you are my blood. My past, my future,” you whisper fervently to him, brave in the face of his obvious disapproval, “if the moment comes to it I would lay down my life to protect yours.”
Feyd leans down. His mouth slants over yours, a phantom of a kiss. “Then you’re a fool,” he breathes, words chilling you.
“So be it.”
Feyd releases his grasp on you, stealing the air from your lungs. Even the faintest touch of his leaves you wanting more.
“Come,” he says, holding out his arm, “my foolish wife. We have guests to receive.”
Glowglobes dance over your heads as you venture, arm in arm, to the front of the palace. No one has been permitted to enter without the na-Baron and na-Baroness and at your arrival begin to trickle in slowly, each guest stopping to greet you and praise you for your hospitality.
A few stop to ponder at the lack of wash troughs but after a series of dead-end interactions with Feyd cease to ask. It wasn’t a popular choice among the Arrakis staff, you had learned from your previous stay that they liked to sell the towels from which cleaned up the mess from the troughs. Your Harkonnen guest frown on this as well. Even Feyd was skeptical about your insistence on removing the tradition, but he supported you regardless, and you couldn’t be more pleased by your decision.
Water was sacred here and you would not flaunt your access to it, not even to those who had never had to safe keep it.
It’s difficult to maintain the smile on your face as you welcome noblemen and bankers, wealthy businessmen, and even the occasional individual that you sense dabbled in the more seedy side of entrepreneurship. The duel suns have just started to set when you notice a familiar dark shape approaching you.
“Uncle,” Feyd greets the Baron.
“Feyd-Rautha, na-Baroness.” His voice slips over you like grease and his eyes are even more beady than you remember. Your grandfather. “It is good to see you again and to celebrate your victory.”
“Indeed,” you reply, not meaning it in the least.
From behind the Baron, his suspenders whirring with the effort of lifting him, emerge Rabban, clutching the wrist of one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Her dress gives the appearance of armor but still impressively elegant, blonde hair slicked back and green eyes latching onto you immediately.
“Princess Irulan,” Rabban says. “Though she hardly needs an introduction.”
“It’s a pleasure,” you say, curtsying.
Irulan smiles wistfully at you. “There is no need for that. We are destined to be family, after all.”
“My apologies,” Feyd retorts.
“Don’t mind him,” the Baron directs at the princess. One of his massive hands clamps down on Feyd’s shoulders, a gesture that you do not mistake for anything less than threatening. “He jests as all brothers do.”
“I understand,” Irulan says with a melodious laugh. Though as the five of you take to joining the rest of the party (along with Irulan's small army of guards), you can’t help but notice the way she glances at you. You have trouble deciphering the look but it slips from your mind after another session of small talk before the first course is served.
The table has just been set with plates of all sorts of delicacies when you feel a small hand grab you. Bodies press against you as guests hurry to claim the most coveted seats at the table. A chord of surprise is struck in you when you realize that the hand is not that of someone hoping to steady themselves amongst the sea of bodies but, rather, the intentional grip of Princess Irulan.
“We must talk,” she says. “It’s not every day that you find yourself in a situation like the one we have both been put in.”
“Did you not think your father would arrange your marriage?” You ask stiffly.
Something reminds you that Irulan is studying to be a Bene Gesserit, a feat that you could never hope to accomplish. You have to admit that it’s admirable. But the less tolerant side of you resents her for it.
“I could never hope for that, much like you were unable,” Irulan says. “I meant in the nature of being engaged to Harkonnens.”
“Oh.”
Distractedly you let your eyes wander until they fall on Feyd, who is sitting in his place at the head of the table and entertaining a small audience. Rabban, on the other hand, glowers at the food heaped on his plate, fork gripped in his fist as if he wants to launch it at someone.
“Do you have any wisdom to impart?” Irulan asks.
“I’m still trying to learn myself,” you tell her. “The Harkonnens are a…unique people.”
Irulan leans closer to you. “Is Feyd-Rautha as psychotic as they say?”
“Even more,” you say in interest of feeding the rumors. They weren’t wrong, of course, but you could hardly consider him as such when it was Irulan’s own betrothed who worried you.
And they both had a hand in your family’s deaths.
Before you can say anything to this effect, however, Feyd beckons you to the table. You smile at Irulan placatingly — the expression of a wife under her husband’s control — then find your place beside him. Irulan sits down on the other side of Rabban. Is she still staring at you?
You can’t help but feel as you did when Jessica would scrutinize you, analyzing your every move and word. It unsettles you.
The dinner starts without a hitch. You do your best to move the food on your plate around convincingly and avoid Irulan’s gaze. Everyone seems content to listen to Feyd’s stories about dismantling the spice smugglers, though, which leaves you mostly adrift with your thoughts. In fact, you’re so surprised when someone speaks to you that it takes several moments for you to compose an answer.
“Pardon my niece,” the Baron interjects with a sickening smile. “She certainly has a lot on her mind. Arrakis is grueling for even the weakest of individuals, though she’s had experience with it before.”
The noblemen who spoke to you nods. “That’s right. You’re of House Atreides. My condolences about your parents. Duke Leto was a magnificent man.”
“If only other men were possessed of such magnificence,” you mutter in reply, angrily spearing a vegetable on your plate. You shoot a glare at the Baron. “My father inspired cowardice in those who could not even hope to compete with him.”
“True cowardice lies in refusing to admit when you’ve been beat,” the Baron says coolly. He licks sauce from his thumb.
You stare back evenly at him. “You would know about true cowardice.”
The nobleman stuck between you both clears his throat awkwardly and drains the rest of his glass. Conversation swells again and thankfully diverts the topic of your family, and as the dinner transpires you’re itching to enact your plan. Finally dessert is cleared and after-dinner drinks are set before all of the guests.
Feyd rises to his feet and draws the attention of the room, holding up his flute to indicate a toast.
You stand, too, and smile endearingly at him.
“Tonight we have gathered to celebrate the prosperity of the House Harkonnen,” he rasps. “In the face of adversity we have yet again come out the victors on the other side.” This is met by a small smattering of applause. Feyd continues, “Of course, where would we be without our patriarch? The Baron has…provided for us for many years. I can only hope to return the favor.”
Feyd and you both drink from your glasses, as do the rest of the party.
It takes only a few seconds for panic to arise.
While you and Feyd gaze out contentedly at your guest, they find themselves paralyzed and unable to move a muscle. It’s a temporary poison — it won’t last longer than a few minutes — but it’s one that you both have acclimated to. You are free to round the table to Rabban at the same time that Feyd strides to his uncle on the other side.
You pull the Gom Jabbar from your corset. Every Noble House is in possession of one, which is why Feyd also had to steal his own. In a movement that seems almost choreographed, you and your husband bring the needles up to the necks of your prisoners. Adrenaline soars through you.
“It was always going to end like this between us,” Feyd murmurs almost lovingly to the Baron. He brushes his finger down his uncle’s face.
You turn your attention to Rabban. Although he cannot move, the muscles in his eyes strain to glare at you. You hold the needle just centimeters from his skin. “I will give you the same mercy you gave my family,” you whisper. “None.”
“STOP!”
Time ceases to move as, from your peripheral, you watch Irulan shoot to her feet. You’re unable to refuse the call of The Voice, and you’re rendered as paralyzed as the guests who drank from their poisoned glasses.
Which, apparently, the princess had not.
“You two are both fools,” she hisses. Her fingers form claws at her sides. “Did you not think I would notice what you were doing? That I would let you unravel the hard work of my father?”
Using The Voice, she orders you to drop the needles. They clatter to the ground.
You manage a glance in Feyd’s direction. His expression is grim, jaw clenched and eyes burning with rage at having been thwarted. Out of all of the outcomes of this evening, you hadn’t expected this to be one of them. A leaden feeling fills your entire body.
Irulan holds you, frozen, until she can call her father’s guards into the room and command them to seize you for treason.
“Irulan, please,” you beg her once liberated of her hold over you.
She simply gazes at you with contempt.
Guards descend on the room without warning and, without any verbal agreement, you and Feyd do your best to fend off wave after wave of them. They drop like flies, but there’s too many of them for you both to dispatch. You step and whirl over fallen bodies as you fend off the guards with nothing but a butter knife, the Gom Jabbar having been the first thing the guards kicked out of your grasp.
“We have to get out,” Feyd snaps at you. He throws a punch over your shoulder, hitting a guard and giving you enough time to spin and kick the offender in the gut. “Now.”
You pant, “Where?”
Irulan was tending to Rabban, who had stirred and was glaring murderously at you as he waited for the rest of his body to cooperate. The Baron simply stared from his seat. You had no idea if he was fully awake or not, but you didn’t want to wait for the punishment he fettered out.
“Here.” Feyd pushes a torn up napkin into your hands and demonstrates his intention by forcing them deep into his ears.
You quickly do the same. If you can’t hear Irulan, then the Voice won’t work on you.
Right?
It seemed as good a plan as any. Like a conjoined beast, you and Feyd tear through the swarm of guards like cutting through tall wheat. Blood splattered his face and his knuckles had broken open — you were sure you looked just as deranged, hair loosened from its pins and dress ripped from where a guard had taken hold to try and stop you. You had promptly struck him in the head with your foot, knocking him out and releasing his grip on you.
A roar from behind alerts you to bigger troubles. Rabban staggers after you, face reddened.
“Y/N!” Asha cries. You’ve made it to one of the adjoining hallways, and she latches onto your arm, pulling you towards her.
“Asha, no —”
“Go! Take her!” Feyd yells.
You wrench yourself free from Asha but Feyd has already been swallowed up by a wall of guards. A keening sound escapes you. You try to push yourself back but Asha won’t let you. “No, Feyd! Feyd!”
“He made me promise that I would help you escape,” Asha tells you, panicked. “Come on.”
“I won’t leave him.”
Asha tugs your arm. “I doubt he will be able to tolerate being apart from you for very long. But he will not tolerate it if I let anything happen to you.”
A guard with a lasgun splits from the dining room towards you and Asha and, with one more prompt from her, you take off running in the opposite direction, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The lasgun fires off two rounds, narrowly missing you. You pump your legs as fast as they will go, completely disconnected from the task at hand as you remember the image of Feyd interlocking with Rabban before he was obscured from your view by the guards. Would even your husband be able to escape such force?
“Turn here,” Asha instructs, your feet thundering loudly on the polished floors. She turns and thrusts you into a segment of the wall that has fallen away, moving swiftly to replace it. Stupidly, you hover, ensuring that you’re not being followed. The sound of the guard’s heavy breathing passes by you, then disappears. Asha turns to you, her face in shadows. “Move.”
Once you’re safely away from the door, tunneling through a narrow passageway, you ask her, “Where are we?”
“Abandoned servants halls. They used to use them to travel through the palace without being detected.”
A rush of adrenaline keeps you moving. You trail after Asha as she guides you through the winding passage, relying only on touch to navigate. You can barely even lift your arms at your sides without touching the walls, and its pitch black, no glowglobes to light your way. There’s no saying how far you go until Asha is grunting and pushing her shoulder up against another segment of wall.
You blink rapidly as you encounter a burst of light and the grit of sand on your tongue. Somehow you’ve bypassed most of the palace for the hangar. It’s shaded by an awning but open on one side to the harsh elements.
“Come on, we don’t have much time. If they’re smart they’ll know where we’re going.”
Asha leads you to one of the idle thopters. “I have no idea how to pilot one of these,” you say, alarmed.
“It’s been preprogrammed to at least get you out of Arraneen,” Asha says. “The rest is up to you. It’s not hard. This is the throttle—” she points to a lever, then another, “and this is the clutch.”
“I —” the words die in your throat.
I, what? Can’t land this thing? Can’t believe this is happening? Can’t leave without Feyd?
“Come with us. They’ll kill you if they find out you helped us,” you say instead.
Asha shakes her head. “There’s no room.”
“Asha —”
Your friend, her own tears in her eyes, pushes away your reaching hand. She ducks her head to check a watch-apparatus from her pocket. “The na-Baron should be here soon. If he’s not, he instructed me to force you to leave without him.”
You growl, “Nothing you can say will keep me from him.”
As if the universe felt personally challenged by this, the sounds of lasguns going off reverberate through the hangar. Asha and you both look towards the entrance, where Feyd can be seen sprinting from a group of guards. A scream climbs in your chest, bubbling with fear, as you watch him swerve and dodge to avoid the blasts.
“Feyd!” You cry.
His eyes lock on you and, seemingly emboldened, cycles his legs faster, outrunning the guards in their clumsy uniforms.
“Y/N, start the thopter!” Asha yells. She indicates a button on the mantle of the ship and you hastily press it, the bug-like wings snapping to life and kicking up sand in the hangar.
Feyd skids to a stop beside the thopter. A blast fires off, singing the mechanical flank of the ship. He uses his body as a shield for Asha. “Come with us,” he tells her, echoing you. Sweat and blood mingle on his face and his clothes.
“No. It’s too late. Go!” Asha all but shoves him into the thopter, crying out as another blast lands at her feet. With Feyd’s broad form next to yours, there’s truly no room for Asha unless she wanted to be smashed against the windshield. Feyd takes over the controls from you.
The thopter door closes right as the guards reach it, already jerking Asha into their grip.
You howl and scream in disbelief, pounding at the doors of the thopter from the inside as it launches into the air. Feyd hovers slightly before yanking on the throttle and piloting the thopter out of the hangar. “No, no, no!” Asha’s tiny frame is dwarfed by the guards, then by distance.
“Y/N, there’s nothing we can do now. She sacrificed herself for us. Let’s not put it to waste,” Feyd snarls at you.
You swipe tears and makeup from your face. Something inside you hardens, and you push down your anguish in order to focus on your escape. Feyd is a talented flyer, but it’s nothing compared to the league of thopters and ships encroaching in the distance. Worry clamps down on you like the jaws of a sandworm.
Arrakeen blurs beneath you as Feyd soars over it, the body of the thopter casting shadows over the buildings. You’ve nearly reached the shield wall when a shot collides with the thopter and sends it staggering to one side. Feyd curses. The Emperor’s ships have caught up with you. You grip your armrests, eyes widening as you watch the ships grow larger and larger in the rearview mirror. Feyd eases your ship through a small opening in the shimmering shield wall, effectively preventing any of the large ships from following.
More shots ring out, pinging off your thopter.
“What are we going to do?” Feyd’s dark gaze flickers behind you, then back to the desert unfolding before you. It’s then that you see it — a storm. “Feyd, did you get hit in the head? We can’t go into a sandstorm.”
“It’s our only option,” he grits out.
You want to protest, to persist that there’s another way, but you have no answer. Feyd forces the throttle of the ship down as far as it will go, the wings fluttering almost imperceptibly as he urges them to go as fast as possible. Pain explodes in your head when a blast hits the side of the thopter and you’re thrown against the inner wall; much like the pain, a fiery explosion erupts outside your window.
“Fuck! They shot off one of the engines,” Feyd yells over the clamor of the thopter stalling. Teeth gritting, he swoops it out of its downward spiral and back into the air. “We just have to make it to the storm. They won’t follow us.”
Giant columns of smoke billow from the decimated engine, the right wing also engulfed in flames. The thopters chugs along awkwardly, dipping and faltering as Feyd does his best to keep it in the air, relying on the gusts of wind from the oncoming storm. Your stomach churns.
And, quite literally jumping from one problem to the next, the storm seizes upon your thopter with furious force. From all sides you’re battered by wind and currents of sand and rocks, sounding like you were being pelted with boulders on all sides. You realize too late that the screaming you hear is from you. Feyd battles against the storm but at this point he’s at its terrible mercy, both of you being tossed around with no sense of control.
There’s a split second when you catch a glimpse of fear on Feyd’s face — the first time you’ve ever seen it — before another blast rockets into the thopter. One of the ships had followed you.
Flames converge with the whipping sand and an alarm starts wailing as the thopter plummets to the ground. Well, logical leads you to believe that it’s the ground, there’s no way of telling which direction you’re going.
Feyd releases himself from his seat’s harness and crosses over the console, throwing his body over yours right as the ship collides with something solid and everything goes black.
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#feyd rautha#dune#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd rautha harkonnen#fanfic writing#writers on tumblr#fanfic#writing#these destined ends
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Adopted by papa crewel
It was a normal Friday afternoon and class was ending as y/n walked past Mr. Crewels desk he spoke up “Y/N I need you to stay after for a second” Mr. Crewel said as he continued to grade papers. Y/n waved bye to her friends and grim as she stayed behind in the classroom. “Am I in trouble?” Y/n asked as she pulled up a chair. “No” Mr. Crewel answered
“Did grim do something?” Y/n
“No” crewel
“Did ace and deuce do something?” Y/n
“No” crewel
Mr. Crewel just smiled slightly as he placed his pen down and looked at y/n who was trying to figure out why she had to stay behind. “I wanted to ask you something important” crewel started y/n looked at him before slightly tilting her head. “Go on” y/n said with a confused smile, crewel sighed before placing a piece of paper in front of y/n. It was a adoption paper, y/n looked up at crewel in shock “before you say anything let me explain. I know you want to back home but it's just for now or if sadly there is no way back. Like for breaks you'll have somewhere to go instead of staying on campus. It's ok if you want you don't want to but-” “you actually want me as your daughter?” Y/n had interrupted crewel. Crewel looked at her and saw she had tears in her eyes. “Of course you like a daughter I've never had but always wanted. Your smart, brave, Hella stubborn and more” crewel said standing up and walking over to her. Y/n jumped up and hugged him crewel froze before wrapping his arms around her “But even if you say yes I won't give you any special treatment at school anyway” crewel said with a laugh y/n laughed as well.
Back home y/n was normal always by herself but here she has friends and now someone who wants to adopt her. Y/n pulled away from the hug and looked up at crewel “are you sure about this?” Y/n asked one last time crewel put a hand on her head “Yes my daughter” he replied y/n smiled and signed the paper. Crewel couldn't be happier one he has a daughter (and a devil cat) and two he gets to put Crowley through more hell. “Am I aloud to tell anyone?” Y/n asked crewel nodded as he picked up the paper “Yes I want all those bad pups to know if they mess with you they get to deal with me. Plus grim will have to know as well since he goes with you everywhere” crewel said with a proud smile. Y/n smiled again hugging him before running off to tell her friends the good (not so good for them) news.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#twst x y/n#twst wonderland#chubby reader#disney twst#female y/n#twst comfort#twst x reader#twst papa crewel#papa crewel#twst#twst imagines#twst fluff
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