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briefinquiries · 21 days

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Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is.

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead.

“You wanna come in with me then?”

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him.

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face.

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to.

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve.

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings.

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you.

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last.

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed.

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation.

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky.

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat.

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm.

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin.

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly.

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker.

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone.

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose).

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.”

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel.

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze.

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.”

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun.

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled.

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful.

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting.

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.”

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned.

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.”

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly.

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear.

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!”

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage.

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue.

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure.

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose.

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face.

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils.

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up.

“Easy, T–” Boone said.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone.

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him.

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently.

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word.

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more.

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What��d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin.

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.

You felt grateful when they didn’t push.

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation.

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat.

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you.

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted.

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind.

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes.

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word.

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out.

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour.

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name.

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines.

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves.

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you.

“Better?” he asked, handing you one.

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak.

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight.

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter.

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–”

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.”

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt.

“I’m the sorry one,” he said.

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you.

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth.

“I just–” you paused again. “I–”

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.”

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened.

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off.

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?”

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked.

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said.

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked.

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly.

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”

#twisters #twisters imagine #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens x reader fic #twisters x reader fic #twisters fic

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sweetnans · 4 months

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"I just hope that one day, we both can laugh about it, when it's not in our face, won't have to dance around it. Don't drive yourself insane. It won't always be this way" - Skin. Sabrina Carpenter (quote inspo)

Bakugo knew nothing about love. Well, that's what you thought when you first met him.

At the tender age of six years old, he had this habit of pulling you by your arm to drag you around when he wanted to show you something, his little fingers leaving marks in your skin.

When you were ten years old, he started putting his feet in your way so you would stumble and sometimes kiss the floor while he parted himself from laughter.

In the beginning of teenagers' age, thirteen, he used to put his arm on top of your head to make fun of you because he was actually getting tall while you were stuck in your pre-adolescence height.

At sixteen, he ghosted you.

Yep, that's what you read. He ghosted you because he felt this funny feeling growing in his tummy every time he saw you.

Katsuki never knew about love. You thought crying in your dorm because your best friend wasn't acting like your best friend anymore.

You actually believed it.

It all began when you two got into UA. He was excited, having someone to actually compete with? You learned a lot from him (almost against your own will), but after a few years, he considered you a fair opponent.

The feeling inside his guts happened instantly. One day, both of you were returning home from classes, in the train he was behind you, protecting you from all the people that were squeezing into their spots. A baby caught your attention immediately. She was smiling at you, and you couldn't help but make her faces, smile, and bat your eyes at that little baby, gaining a few giggles in return.

Katsuki found that amusing.

He started to see you with other eyes. Helpless eyes. That feeling that woke up one day to another got him desperate, pacing around, fighting with his own thoughts in a manic state.

He had never felt that before. He knew nothing about love.

So he did what he knew best. Ignore.

But we all know him, he isn't the kind of guy who can just let something (someone in this case) go...

He watches you from afar. He has studied your antics, your movements, how you express yourself with other people, with your classmates, with the teachers. He learned about you just by observing, and now he could easily read you. That was something that kept his mind at ease. Without talking to you, at least he could know what happened in your mind by just looking at you.

A few days later, you came down from your dorm with puffy eyes. He knew something was off. No one noticed because you made a pretty good job hiding it behind makeup, but he could tell, and he was about to figure out what happened.

You were preparing your breakfast. Something quiet shitty, Bakugo thought, but it wasn't his priority in that moment.

"What's wrong?" He asked directly.

He hasn't talked to you in months, so you were impressed that he decided to share space and air with you, let alone ask something so private.

"What do you care?" No one could blame you for your response. The bastard has ignored you after spending every day with you since you both were six years old. You didn't need his sympathy.

"I care," he said, leaning in the kitchen table, looking at your eyes. They were red and swollen but beautiful too. He had forgotten how you looked like up close. The butterflies in his stomach woke up instantly, but he didn't fight them this time.

"I'm not having a good week, that's all" you explained pouring some artificial cereal on your bowl.

He took that from you and exchanged for granola and oatmeal.

"I hate seeing your face like that. After class, I'm taking you to that ice cream shop you like, " he said nonchalantly like it wasn't one of the biggest gestures that he had done since you came to UA.

You couldn't help but smile. Maybe you could fix your relationship after all.

"It's winter, Katsuki," you stated, testing boundaries.

"Yeah, as if that had stopped you before" he rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead.

In the end, after he grabbed you by the arm and tossed you all the way to the ice cream shop, you came with the conclusion that Bakugo Katsuki knew about love in his own way and you were more than ready to explore that path alongside him.

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sinsofsummers · 1 year

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sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

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drcranessweetestdoe · 7 months

Note

heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house

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pprodsuga · 4 months

Text

never to keep | heeseung

summary: heeseung was always a natural scene stealer, capturing the hearts and attention of those around him. it seemed predestined that he'd pursue a life that would take him beyond the cosmos and leave behind the constellations he once treasured. it's too bad that you were one of them.

warnings: angst and typos, probably.

word count: 8.6K (shorter than previous works, forgive me)

notes: ahahah. this is a therapy piece ... currently dealing with similar themes of a friend prioritizing work and people who don't care for her over people who do, and i feel veryyy conflicted as of late. i, like yn, am not a plaything. why not turn it into a fic. anyway, enjoy and happy reading! x

masterlist + taglist

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

If you love someone, they will always come back to you.

There’s no logic in love, only strong emotions that make people disregard all they know to chase the feeling of reckless abandon. Love is a wildcard that can catch even the most self-protective person off guard. You’ve read it in stories from childhood fairytales to watching strangers fall in love in your favorite books and television shows growing up. You believe the people who kiss on the screen must surely find an ounce of love, even if only for a brief moment.

It’s no surprise that you’ve come to love Heeseung the way you do. To love him is to know him, even if he’s too tired to see you on the weekends or too occupied to sit next to you at the lunch period because of his days training to become an idol. What you know at this point in your life is that love is unconditional; supporting your best friend to pursue a dream he’s talked about since he could speak feels right.

To love somebody doesn’t necessarily mean to devote oneself to the fullest extent, but somehow you feel as though this way of thinking never quite aligned with how you’ve come to love. Heeseung’s parents are a surrogate for your own, especially when it’s just you and your mother in the small, two bedroom apartment that sits on the edge of town and away from the city. They tuck you in at night during holidays and other special occasions when you’ve become too tired to drive back to your home.

Minjun, Heeseung’s younger sister by four years, warmed up to you quicker than anyone had expected. The fierce girl had a protective streak over her brother once he grew into his height and learned that winking at pretty girls could get them to do whatever he asked of them within reason. Minjun doesn’t recall when she met you for the first time because she was likely too young to remember, but her sweet nature towards you speaks louder than you could’ve ever anticipated.

Growing up with a single parent as an only child provides enough time to befriend loneliness. There are days spent idly in the apartment waiting for someone to keep you company, often wishing that the house was filled with people to keep the void full and lively. But now, because of the Lee family and how close you’ve become to their two children, it seems as if the idea of a central family is closer than you think.

Heeseung didn’t expect for you to become a prominent fixture in his life when the two of you were partnered for a science project at the ripe age of thirteen. He’d experienced a growth spurt and acne for the first time simultaneously, growing insecure in himself with every day that passed by. Heeseung hadn’t anticipated you sitting with his family at the dinner table five years later, listening to a mundane story about his mother’s workday at a boring corporate-level position Heeseung doesn’t bother to remember.

He never thought you’d be cooking with his father in the kitchen upon returning home from his training practices, talking about the art of seasoning as the meal preparations come to a finish. He doesn’t remember when you started coming over without the pretense of coming to see him either. Heeseung surely does not anticipate Minjun waiting for your arrival by the front windows just to insist on being the first person who welcomes you into their home.

Naturally, Minjun becomes a recognizable face in your life because of how often she spends time with you and Heeseung. The young girl sets up her homework as the two of you begin yours, her schoolbooks significantly lighter than yours but you make conversation anyhow.

“I think she likes you because you don’t treat her like she’s thirteen,” Heeseung says as he dries the dishes from dinner as you scrub them clean. “She hates it when people baby her.”

“Sometimes I think I need to watch how I talk to Minjun.”

“No, you don’t. Minjun likes that you talk to her like a friend.”

“That’s what she is, no? A friend?”

“More than me?”

You flick water towards Heeseung. “Yes, if you keep teasing me.”

“Seriously, though. Thanks for being nice to her. She complains that she’s the youngest out of everybody all the time.”

“I used to be like that.” You close the tap water and hand the last dish to Heeseung. “I hated being at the kids table when everybody else got to be an adult. Minjun’s at the age where she’s aware of it.”

“God, we sound like her parents, or something.”

You bite back a smile.

Caring for Heeseung is arguably the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He makes it simple when you receive a text from him hours before you wake up and just before you go to bed despite his busy schedule. You wonder at all how he manages to fit you into his life with all of his dreams and responsibilities, but Heeseung always tells you it’s because there’s room for you.

Being so close to his family helps internalize the fact that you are a permanent fixture in his life. Mrs. Lee drops off baked goods on Saturday mornings most times because she knows your mother likes to eat a sweet treat with her bitter coffee. Mr. Lee goes out of his way to fix faulty ceiling fans or kitchen drains when he has the time to spare your income. Minjun gives you drawings from her art classes that sit on your refrigerator. Integrating their life within yours feels natural.

Heeseung has always been somebody you’ve looked up to, poised for success after deciding he loved singing enough to make a career out of it. The eight-year-old boy who loved to choreograph dance numbers to famous songs carries this humble beginning when he talks about what life might look like for him when he’s crossed the threshold that separates his life from now.

It seemed as though Heeseung’s dream of becoming an idol never seemed too far out of reach, even if he had his moments where he felt like giving up. Things always worked out for him in ways nobody could explain, like moving to a new city because of his mother’s job and making friends within an hour of transferring to a new middle school. Or the time when he’d auditioned to train under a management company and hadn’t heard back from them for weeks–Heeseung prepared to stop giving himself false hope for his future as an idol until the fateful email sat at the top of his inbox, welcoming him to the company.

Life was always easier on Heeseung than it was for everybody else.

You don’t see him much between classes because he’s on a special path created for people who are like him. People who are destined to debut as an idol are given certain exemptions to ensure quality education while having enough time to train in all areas of performance art. It took a while for Heeseung to get used to his new life and the new routine set in place for him but you were always there to remind him that this is what he wants more than anything in the world. All of the stress and frustration that comes with change, no matter how brutal or unnerving, will be worth it when he sees his dream to the end.

You’re a young adult at this point in your life but it feels like you’ve aged beyond your peers because of circumstance. Spending time at the Lee residence when your mom’s at work or visiting her friends prevents you from feeling as lonely as you do in between four white walls that barely feel like home without someone else in it. Growing up quicker than your peers feels like something expected of you. Oftentimes, you wish you could maintain childlike innocence as Heeseung does, dreaming so big and far that everything seems like a possibility if you dreamed hard enough.

Watching him dance and hearing him sing feels like a reminder that there’s more to life than what you know. Your best friend is your confidant and the person you see yourself in the most. The boys and girls who befriend him because of his good looks and potential stardom don’t matter much to either of you when the promise of lifelong friendship looms in the future. You can’t imagine Heeseung not being in it.

Mr. and Mrs. Lee sit at the dining table over a cup of post-dinner coffee while Minjun scrolls through her phone by the couch with a Netflix show you’ve never heard of on the television. Their soft murmurs have become a familiar background noise. You sit next to Minjun and peer over her shoulder.

“I like these shoes a lot,” she tells you as she turns the phone for you to see. “All the girls in my grade are wearing these.”

“Do you like them because you like them or because everyone else does?”

She frowns. “What’s wrong with liking what other people like?”

“Nothing, but if you’re going to buy flats just for them to sit in the back of your closet, that doesn’t seem like a good reason to have them.”

Minjun has approached the age you’re all too familiar with. When you turned thirteen, the impending doom of fitting in hit you like a truck when you realized all of the girls in your grade had expensive clothes while you wore hand-me-downs from your cousins. Your backpack, which you had been using for three years because the straps weren’t broken, felt like a burden to carry when everybody else had pretty satchels. You felt juvenile in your too-worn sneakers and the two pairs of jeans you had sitting in your closet. But you were thirteen and your mother made enough money to make ends meet and put dinner on the table. Clothing and new school materials didn’t matter compared to eating before bed.

Part of this insecurity has always followed you throughout childhood, especially when you were old enough to be aware of the fact that you were one of the few people in your grade who didn’t have a nuclear family. The kinds of families you’d see on the television didn’t exist in real life because while these programs taught its audiences the value of a good, stable home life, you’d been watching them alone while you waited for your mother to come home from work. There would be no dinner at the table with both of your parents because you knew there would be just her.

Watching Minjun grow up with two parents who dote on her feels bittersweet. It feels like watching a version of what could have been if only your father had chosen to stay in the picture instead of abandoning his family for a promising career in entertainment. Minjun’s petulance often reminds you that you were not privileged enough to have this kind of grace because of how rapidly your circumstances forced you to grow up faster than your peers did.

There’s a small part of you that envies her life when you think about what yours could have been if he had stayed. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to watch your mother slave away at odd jobs to keep the lights on before finding a good, stable job after years of searching. Maybe you wouldn’t have felt so lonely in your adolescence because he’d take you to ice cream after school. Maybe the hollowness that remains inside of you would have been filled with joy and laughter on the holidays.

“You’re right,” Minjun sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Seri told me my outfit would’ve looked prettier if I wore these.”

“People should keep their opinions to themselves.”

Minjun nods. “Agreed.”

Heeseung emerges from the kitchen a moment later and sits next to you on the couch. The dip in the cushion and his thigh being pressed against yours isn’t a new phenomenon, but the heat that creeps up your neck can’t be helped when he looks like a model from the corner of your eye. You swallow until your mouth feels dry to keep both Lee siblings from asking why you look like you’re about to explode.

It’s easy to fall in love with Heeseung. All of the girls fawn over him already, a promising sign that Heeseung will likely be just fine when he debuts as an idol. He’s always been good with people and speaks in a way that makes people root for his success even if it was unintentional to begin with. He’s charming in a way that seems humble. Heeseung has a skill for making you feel like you are the only person in the room when he talks to you. You’re sure it’s why people feel drawn to him and why everybody loves being around Heeseung so much. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

Sometimes, you grow envious of how easy it is for Heeseung to get people to like him. Career prospects aside, it’s almost as if he can convince anyone he’s somebody worth being friends with. Cashiers love him because he doesn’t make small talk awkward. He’s not afraid to talk to strangers and strike up a conversation with somebody while waiting for his coffee order. Heeseung is bashful enough to come across as sincere and it seems to reel people in.

He inspires you in ways that you can’t fathom but simultaneously reminds you that you’ve got no future or prospect. It’s unfair to compare yourself to your best friend, but being in such close proximity where people praise him next to you are constant reminders that your life hasn’t begun and you don’t know if it ever will. Your life feels stagnant compared to his exciting one. While Heeseung spends his days and nights perfecting his dance techniques and vocal skills, you sit in your room and wonder what life would be like if you could touch the moon.

There are days where you wish you could be as suave and charming as he can be. You feel awkward around people you don’t know and limit yourself to new experiences when it feels too intimidating. You’re not somebody who’s confident enough to start a conversation, let alone with somebody you aren’t familiar with. Where Heeseung excels in the socializing department, you find yourself playing catch-up every time you see him befriend yet another person you aren’t familiar with. It’s a wonder how you two became as close as you are.

Meeting him had been by chance. You knew him from friends of friends and saw him in the hallways between class periods but never had a reason to talk to him until the two of you were partnered for a class project. The newfound partnership felt oddly comfortable from the minute Heeseung introduced himself to you with that same charming smile everyone knows him to have. His wit and humor brewed the perfect potion for you to feel like caring for him as deeply as you do would become inevitable. It wasn’t a bet on if you would fall for him as hard as you did, but when.

You’re inclined to believe you keep it hidden well. Heeseung is far too oblivious most times to see you as anything other than his best friend. You’ve treated him like a friend far longer than you’ve liked him romantically, so acting as if you don’t have feelings for him is easy when you remind yourself that having him in your life would be better than the alternative. Still, you have moments where you yearn to hold his hand and kiss him before he leaves for practice.

“Do you want to come to the next showcase this weekend?” Heeseung asks, nudging your side with his elbow. You pry your attention away from Minjun’s phone to look at him. “It’s gonna be a small one in the company theater. There’s going to be a bunch of important people in the industry. Allegedly.”

“Of course I’ll come, Heeseung. This is you we’re talking about. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The smile he gives you is blinding.

“I really appreciate you supporting me, you know that? I don’t say it often, but I should. Thank you for always supporting me.”

Your heart bursts.

“I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t do at least that,” you tell him.

“My parents and Minjun are gonna be there too so you won’t be alone.” He smiles at you like he knew you were worried about who to sit with, let alone if there’s going to be important people that could determine Heeseung’s career.

“Thanks,” you mumble, an overwhelming feeling of shyness overtaking you. “It’s silly that you have to look out for me all the time.”

“No, not silly,” he says immediately, pushing his head to your shoulder. You don’t imagine this position is very comfortable for him, but Heeseung seems keen on staying in this position. “We’re kids, Y/N. You don’t need to have your life together. I’ll always look out for you and walk you through it if that’s what you need.”

You sigh. “You know, one day, you’re going to become so famous that you’ll inevitably be too busy for me.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No I won’t. Who checks up on me every day after practice? Who do I come to when I need to cry? Who do I invite to my home when I’m not even here?”

“Technically, your parents invite me over when you’re not here.”

Heeseung pinches your thigh. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re not getting rid of me. It’s like, scientifically impossible to separate the two of us.”

“Thanks, Hee.” You feel him nod against you before he lifts his head from your shoulder. “I just feel like I get in my own head sometimes. You know what you want to do for the rest of your life and I barely know what I want for breakfast tomorrow.”

“We don’t always have to figure it out. I know saying that feels like bullshit because I’m training to become an idol but I’m serious. There are so many people we know who don’t know what they’re doing with their lives.”

“It feels like my life could very well be over.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

You make a face at him. “I know.”

“You’ll find something for you, okay? You’re barely an adult anyway. You still have college and all of that shit to figure it out.”

“You’re right.”

“As always.”

“Don’t push it, Heeseung.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you to the showcase. They pick you up and the four of you have a quick dinner before heading over to the company’s theater and you feel somewhat like an important industry person when you’re given a badge with ‘VIP’ on it to signify that you’re part of the family and friends entourage. You see a group of people with clipboards and pens at the ready, dressed like they’ve just come from important meetings that determine the futures of each trainee. Perhaps that’s who they are. Some of these well-dressed individuals have younger people standing beside them, presumably assistants or something as such.

It feels very formal and you’re wondering if the long skirt and long sleeve top you’re wearing is too childish. Everybody who looks important seems to be donning suits or dresses that make them look like they stepped out of a drama show. It doesn’t matter how many times you remind yourself that you’re young and not here to mingle with corporate executives. You still feel like the floor should swallow you whole and spit you out with a new wardrobe that matches everyone else’s.

Heeseung’s parents chat with a few people they recognize and leave you and Minjun to fend for yourselves (or, rather, it feels that way). The young girl beside you hooks her arm with yours when you’ve been quiet for a moment too long and starts to lead you down the aisles.

“Everyone in here looks so stuffy,” she whispers. “People working in entertainment should look like they’re having fun.”

“I feel a little silly in this skirt,” you admit.

“You look great,” Minjun tells you as she bumps your hip with hers. “My mom made me wear this stupid dress that I can barely breathe in.”

“I happen to think you look very cute, Minnie.”

“But I don’t want to look cute,” she whines quietly. “I want to look like an adult.”

“Yeah, well you can look like an adult when you are one. For now, just be happy that somebody finds you cute enough to do things for you.”

Minjun wants to argue but doesn’t. In the time that she’s known you, there hasn’t been a reason for her to distrust anything you say to her because you’ve never had a reason to lie. It’s why she’s likely to listen to you over her own brother, a fact that Heeseung holds a mild grudge over.

“I guess you’re right. I can’t even drive. I need people to drive me places.”

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, driving can be a pain sometimes. Enjoy your youth while you have it, okay?” Minjun rolls her eyes in a way that lets you know she’s joking. Being outwardly affectionate doesn’t seem to run in the Lee sibling genes, but you’d like to think you know them well enough to tell when they’re being genuine.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You try to tell yourself that, too. When everybody finds their seats and when the showcase begins, you’re in awe of how many talented people there are in the room when you hear their incredible vocal abilities and make performing in front of a crowd look easy. It’s easy to spot Heeseung when he’s dancing with a group of people you’ve never seen before. He always looks as if he’s floating on air, moving his body in ways you can’t fathom and he makes learning difficult choreography seem like a walk in the park. You’ve heard him sing before but not to this extent. The steady tone he delivers when he dances amazes you beyond comprehension and Minjun would later swear that she saw stars in your eyes when you watched her brother perform like this for the first time.

What Heeseung neglected to tell you was that he secured a solo spot after months of impressing his coaches. He performs one of his favorite songs and moves across the stage like he was always meant to be dancing on it. From here, Heeseung looks like a celestial being with the lights cascading down his body. You hold your breath the entire time he sings on that stage and clap the loudest when everybody gives him a standing ovation. You peek to the side to see the same, stuffy executives nodding after his performance and write down things on their clipboards that you can only hope are praises and nothing but.

Heeseung’s parents make their way to the front of the stage when the house lights turn on. They talk to people you don’t recognize and you find yourself following them instead of looking like an awkward mess, as everybody else has chosen to stand from their seats and greet the performers that have come out from backstage.

Your best friend looks magnificent with his makeup and the outfit he last performed in. He looks like a real idol in this light and pride swells within your chest when people applaud him for his incredible performance before he reaches you. His smile turns bigger when he sees you and Minjun approaching him behind his parents and makes his way to engulf you in a hug.

“You’re here,” he breathes.

“I’d always said I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”

“I think this was the most important showcase of my life.”

It would be hard to ignore Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your waist like he’s done it a thousand times before. It’s true that the two of you aren’t strangers to physical touch, but he never lingers on you like he is now. Still, you chalk it up to overflowing happiness and you can sense that Heeseung is genuinely pleased with himself. He isn’t pretending that he performed well like he does when he avoids going home after practice in lieu of spending time with you in your mother’s apartment.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Minjun praises.

“Language,” Heeseung chides, removing his arm from your waist to pinch her cheek. “Thank you for coming too. Where are eomma and appa?”

Minjun points to where they are. “I think they were waiting for you to come out and started talking to the coaches.”

“We should make our way there.”

“You should,” you tell him, pushing Heeesung towards his parents. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Nonsense.” Heeseung shakes his head and grabs your wrist as best as he can with multiple bodies trying to squeeze past the three of you.

When Heeseung pulls you away, you’re sure to grab onto Minjun’s hand so she doesn’t get lost in a sea of people either. Mr. and Mrs. Lee beam when they see their son approaching and Heeseung drops your wrist in favor of being smothered with affection by his parents. You can tell he feels embarrassed to be doted on in front of his peers because of how his ears are turning red, but you sit back and laugh with Minjun when she points it out loud.

You let them talk and watch as people clad in business attire approach Heeseung and his parents. You're not sure if Heeseung knows them or not but he smiles and shakes their hands, going so far as to bow to their assistants as well. He talks to them like he’s been in this business for decades, making people laugh and remaining as humble as ever when people praise his performance skill. You’re not sure how Heeseung handles all of this attention and praise at the same time, or even what it must feel like to be talented enough to have people approach you.

As you observe everybody else, it’s clear that Heeseung is the star of tonight’s showcase. The other performers did a fantastic job as well, but something about your best friend draws executives to him, and you’re sure everyone who hasn’t spoken to Heeseung is waiting for their turn. It feels exhausting to watch people socialize. You can only guess how exhausted Heeseung might be.

Minjun joins her parents a little while later at their request, leaving you alone for the time being. You pull your phone out and text your mom that you’re still at the showcase and will let her know when Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you back to the apartment. You use this as an excuse to look busy, replying to a few friends that you didn’t have time to respond to before coming to the showcase. But those conversations are dry and leave you without a distraction.

“Y/N, come here!”

Heeseung calls your name and your head snaps to where he’s standing. He beckons you over with a wave and you awkwardly waddle to where he’s standing. His family aren’t with him and you wonder just how long you’ve been looking at your phone for.

“This is my best friend, Y/N,” Heeseung says as he pulls you closer to him. “Y/N, meet Kim Namjoon. He’s the president and founder of Big Hit.”

“It’s lovely to meet you.” The bow is almost automatic and you’re sure to put on a good first impression to help any reputation Heeseung has with Namjoon. You bow at an angle that’s deeper than a common greeting but just shy of ninety-degrees.

Namjoon returns in kind. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Heeseung’s a talented one, isn’t he?”

“He’s the best at what he does,” you say earnestly. “I’ve never seen anybody work as hard as him in my entire life. Pardon if I’m overstepping, but I think Big Hit is incredibly lucky to have him.”

He laughs at your politeness. “I feel the same. It’s not every day you come across someone who’s skilled at, well, everything.”

“You know, when Heeseung and I were younger, we had this ongoing joke that he could master anything on the first try. I think it’s what makes him special, you know?”

“Guys, please don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Heeseung whines. His cheeks are red but both you and Namjoon laugh in good fun.

“There’s a reason why I chose Heeseung to be tonight’s soloist,” Namjoon informs. “This showcase is meant for people in the industry and if I’m being honest with you, I think you’ll be getting good remakes on your review.”

Heeseung beams. “Wow…I don’t know what to say.”

“He says ‘thank you,’” you answer for him. “I can’t imagine what training must be like but I do know that all of it has paid off. Thank you for giving Heeseung a chance to prove himself.”

There’s a glint in Namjoon’s eye.

“Have you ever considered working in publicity?” Namjoon asks you.

“No, why do you ask?”

“I think you’d have a real talent for it.” Namjoon says it in a way that feels too casual for a showcase, especially if he’s the one in charge of the company Heeseung is training under. “You speak well for Heeseung.”

“Oh…thank you.”

He turns to Heeseung and claps him on the back. “There’s more to being an idol than training and performing. You need people who know you and know the business. It’s important to make your career thrive because you can be the most talented person in the world, but if you don’t have the right people around you, none of that will matter.”

Heeseung nods. “Y/N’s always been my champion.”

“I can see.” Namjoon smiles at you. “Entertainment is not for the faint of heart and there’s more to it than being photographed. You need to be in the right places at the right time and know the right people who can get you there. That’s what publicity does for you. Y/N’s already doing it and she’s not working in entertainment yet.”

Somehow, his words feel comforting. “I haven’t thought about what I want to do with my life but that seems like something I could do.”

“It’s important work. Heeseung can perform the shit out of his solo but it doesn’t mean anything if he has nowhere to perform it.”

Namjoon smiles at the both of you before his name is being called from behind him.

“Great job on your solo, Heeseung.” He turns to you. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” He bows once more to the both of you before departing.

“I feel like I’m buzzing,” Heeseung says as he puts an arm loosely around you. “It was like I was the only person in the room when I was performing, you know? The dance with the other guys was amazing and all of that but I feel like I was on another level when it was just me up there.”

“You were incredible, Hee. I mean that. I don’t know a single person more talented than you.”

Heeseung smiles down at you.

“You know, it means a lot that you come to see me. Sometimes I wonder if people talk to me because they know I’m training to become an idol but you never make me feel like that. It feels natural and genuine. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks.”

You push him away from you, a giddy smile tugging on the edge of your lips. Heeseung is affectionate but less so in his vocabulary, choosing to tease you because it’s his way of letting you know he cares for you. Hearing him be so open and vulnerable tugs at your heartstrings and it makes you feel like you could achieve anything.

“I’ll always be here for you, remember? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung’s life changes for the better after the night of the showcase when Namjoon tells him he’s secured a debut spot underneath their brand new label, Belift. Happiness flows within the Lee household and you’re nearly in tears when you realize all your best friend has worked for has finally paid off.

But with it comes uncertainty and your fears are slowly becoming a reality when Heeseung stops talking to you as frequently as he used to.

It comes with the job and you’re more than aware of how much Heeseung has on his plate between preparing for his debut and trying to fit in with the industry. You can’t imagine what life must be like for him now that his dream is just a few weeks away of becoming a reality but part of you wonders if it’s too difficult for him to keep you hanging on a leash.

He calls his parents and Minjun as often as he gets. You know because Minjun swings by your mother’s apartment with Mrs. Lee on Saturday mornings to drop off baked goods, updating you on the latest she’s heard from her older brother. You try your best to quell your jealousy because they’re his family after all, but part of you feels like you have a right to call yourself his family too after all he said to you during the night of the showcase and all you’ve done for him.

You’re sure Mr. and Mrs. Lee can sense it too. Heeseung no longer lives at home, having moved into his own dorm in the heart of Seoul, thirty minutes from you. You aren’t a stranger to their household without his presence but you’ve gradually stopped coming by unless Minjun calls you from Mrs. Lee’s phone to ask you to hang out.

Texts and calls slowly diminish with his new line of work. You went from hearing from him every day to every other day, to nothing at all.

Seeing the blue delivered messages without any indication that he’s acknowledged you, makes you feel like a second priority. But you don’t know if you get the right to feel like this when you know how busy he is and the weight of his debut. Heeseung’s got one shot to make a good first impression and the last thing you want is to distract him from achieving his childhood dream of being a successful idol.

Still, the silence stings.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung knows you’re waiting on him and ignores the pit in the bottom of his stomach that tells him to text you back.

His new life has changed in ways he couldn’t fathom. When Namjoon told him the news about his debut and all of the details surrounding it, Heeseung felt as if the weight of the world was no longer a burden for him to carry, and that all he has ever wanted would eventually come to fruition. His new friends, namely the three guys around his age who have trained to become musicians, are people he gets along with more than he thought he would. Heeseung’s newfound excitement about the next chapter of his life takes him to new heights and he finds himself spending more time with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon as they prepare for the debut showcase.

Heeseung knows you’re waiting for him back at home but it’s so hard to focus on you when he’s wrapped up in his new life. Making time to see you is hard enough as it is and he knows you’re as patient as can be. In the years he’s been friends with you, Heeseung knows that your resilience knows no bounds and all that you’ve experienced in your lifetime has built the strong-willed, confident person he knows you to be.

But his new life gets him caught up in the feeling of the present success. The three guys have known each other far longer than Heeseung has known them, only greeting each other in passing since all four of them were training in different areas of performance art. It wasn’t until they were living together that Heeseung started befriending them beyond practice and rehearsals. Jake’s the one who includes Heeseung the most on group outings or spending time playing video games in the living room. His entire life he’s been alone or with just you, seldom having a group of guys who just gets him.

Heeseung tucks away the nagging feeling in the back of his head when he and Jay are preparing a meal for the four of them when he sees a text from you.

hey hee, are you busy right now? it’s been a while since we hung out and i thought it would be nice to go get boba, or something. my treat !! <3

He shoves his phone in his back pocket before Jay can notice him staring at the screen. The message goes unanswered for the rest of the night as he basks in the company of his friends-slash-coworkers, the thought of getting boba with you far removed from his mind. Playing video games and getting to know the people he’ll likely be working with for the foreseeable future takes precedent. It’s what Heeseung keeps telling himself.

After a while, the guilt no longer eats him alive. You’re busy focusing on graduating and preparing to attend university in the fall while he’s made his debut with his newfound best friends. It’s no surprise to anyone that Heeseung’s fanbase grows at a nearly alarming rate after he makes his debut. He grows popular with each day that passes and it feels like Heeseung has become the face of the newest generation overnight.

He’ll wonder what you’re up to from time to time and let you know how he’s doing. Heeseung first sends a text to apologize, lying about not seeing your text sooner and that he’d love to get boba with you when he has the time. You tell him not to worry because you know he’s busy. He texts you pictures of his first performance and scenic pictures of the cities he visits because of his travel and promotion schedule. You update him on the end of the school year and how your mother is dealing with you moving away for college.

The texts become sparse as the two of you resume your separate lives and Heeseung doesn’t realize that you don’t text him until the day of your graduation–the day that he was supposed to graduate if he hadn’t deferred to the trainee program–wishing him well and that you’re thinking of him. You send a video of yourself pulling your tassel over the graduation cap and he feels nothing for the lost time when he’s on his way to promote his first album overseas.

It’s for my career, he tells himself when he realizes how much time has passed since he thought of you. I’m doing what’s best for me and everybody else needs to get used to it.

It isn’t until Heeseung is permitted a few days off that he comes home per his parents’ request. He doesn’t tell them that he’s a bit homesick even though his dorm is a thirty minute drive, but it feels oceans away when his days are packed from morning until night. He tells his parents about his travels and what kinds of food he’s been eating when he’s overseas. Heeseung gifts Minjun all of the trinkets and souvenirs he bought from his time promoting his album, and what his future holds for him when he returns to his life as an idol. Mr. and Mrs. Lee applaud their son’s hard work, yet they can’t help but feel like there’s a piece of a puzzle missing because you aren’t here to celebrate with them.

You make a visit at Minjun’s request. When you arrive, you’re stunned to learn that Heeseung is back at home and only has the evening until he needs to return to work. Heeseung can see the disappointment that festers in your eyes and the way your shoulder droops as you smile at him for his family’s sake, although he knows it’s false bravado because your grin doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

He leads you upstairs to his bedroom when Mr. Lee insists that the two of you spend some time together after not having seen each other in ages. It feels awkward to be in his childhood bedroom with the door just slightly ajar at this moment, but it isn’t anything completely new.

What is new, however, is seeing that you’ve dyed your hair a different color and that you’ve gotten your ears pierced.

“You look good,” he says, lifting his hand to toy with the end of your hair. “It matches your skin tone nicely.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you do it recently? It looks fresh.”

You don’t note that Heeseung also has a different hair color than his natural jet black.

“Two weeks ago. My cousin did it for me.”

He nods. “Nice. It looks good. I see that you’re wearing necklaces too.”

“Yeah. I decided it was time to stop being a child and get it over with.”

“You know, you don’t have to do things if you don’t want to.” You throw a pointed look at Heeseung and it’s an expression he’s unfamiliar with.

“I know. But I like earrings and that’s why I wanted to get them pierced.”

Heeseung wipes his hand on his pants at the awkward tension in the room. He knows he’s to blame. His schedule and priorities have pulled him away from you and the life he’s built prior to debuting, but can anyone blame him? Can anyone blame him for not being able to balance his life when he’s been given the keys to a new empire?

“Well, it was nice seeing you.” You throw a cheap smile in his direction and motion to open the door until Heeseung grabs your wrist, causing you to turn around.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “You have an early day tomorrow.”

Heeseung sharks his head. “It’s fine. I don’t have to be back in Seoul until ten anyway. I’ve missed you and I want to spend time with you before I absolutely have to fall asleep.”

You scoff. “That’s real funny, Heeseung. You missed me but all of my texts and calls go unanswered.”

He frowns. “You know that I’m busy most days.”

“And nights?”

“I’m with the guys back at the dorm.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue.

“See, I would know all of this if you bothered to talk to me at all but it sees that your new life is treating you just fine.”

You make another move to leave his room but he closes the door, startling you with the loud noise. He apologizes quietly and uses his body to block you from leaving for the time being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy between promotion and rehearsal that it’s hard to keep track of who I keep up with and who I don’t.”

“You’re talking to me like I’ve never seen you cry before,” you say with a disappointed sigh. “You act like I’m somebody you once knew in a past life.”

“Not true. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friends would bother to talk to each other. You know that, right? I don’t exist just so you can pick and choose when you need somebody to talk to. It makes me feel like you don’t actually care about me, Heeseung. It makes me feel like you’ve ever cared about our friendship unless you needed a shoulder to cry on and I was the first person who would listen to you.”

“That’s not true. I’m just busy.”

“I get that, I really do. But it’s been months, Heeseung. I know that I can’t have your attention all the time and I know I can’t see you as often as I did. But would it kill you to let me know you’re alive? The only time I hear about you is when other people talk about you or when I see you on billboards. That doesn’t feel like a friendship to me.”

His fists ball at his side and his frustration surfaces. Heeseung is frustrated at everyone–himself for being unable to say ‘no’ to his new friends, you for expecting so much of him, and his company for keeping him as busy as he is. But he doesn’t know how to communicate that, not when you’re standing in front of him, looking like he’s the villain in your life when he feels like he’s not.

“Well that’s life, Y/N,” Heeseung settles. “Sometimes we need to learn when to prioritize things over others.”

You laugh humorlessly. “Is that the hill you’re going to die on? You’re too busy to send a simple text back or let me know that you’re, I don’t know, okay?”

“You can’t be a priority all the time.”

“I know that. I’m not asking you to drop everything for me just because I called you. I’m asking you to treat me like somebody you care about, Heeseung. Is that too much to ask?”

The anger Heeseung feels within him feels misplaced, but your inability to hear him about makes him even angrier. It’s unfair for you to demand such things of him when he’s pursuing everything he’s ever dreamed of.

“Yes, it is too much to ask,” Heeseung bites back. “You don’t understand the gravity of what I do for a living and it’s hard to appreciate it when you’re breathing down my neck. God, when did you become such a clingy person, Y/N? The world doesn’t revolve around you and I don’t owe you shit just because you can’t handle that I’m busier than you are.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m being dead serious.” Heeseung steps away from the door. “You of all people know how badly I want this and now it’s like you’re not letting me enjoy what I’ve worked for. What kind of friend does that make you?”

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can catch them. His need to be the victim in an uncertain period of his life causes him to misdirect his frustration with adapting to his new life and the proof is written all over your face.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean–”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Just don’t.”

Frozen, Heeseung watches you open his door with such force that it nearly slams into him. He’s quick on his feet to follow you downstairs where he sees his family looking perplexed when you’ve opened the front door without saying goodbye.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it!” Heesueng yells when you’ve crossed the threshold of his household. “Please come back inside.”

“You made it very clear that I have no place in your new life. Congratulations, I hope you’re happy.”

You walk away while the deep feelings of disappointment and uncertainty settles in Heeseung’s chest. He walks back inside and closes the door behind him to see Minjun and his parents in a deep stupor, trying to make sense of the scene that has just unfolded before them.

“What happened?” Mrs. Lee asks.

“Y/N and I…” his voice cracks. “I don’t think we’re friends anymore.”

The room is silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Minjun says without a smile.

Heeseung wants to tell her that she’s wrong and whatever conversation they must’ve heard was a product of two friends having their first serious argument. Heeseung’s own frustrations towards his new life is something he doesn’t talk about often because he’s worked so hard to become the person he is, and it would be ungrateful to complain about what he has yearned for his entire life. It bottled up so much that hearing you accuse him of being a poor friend caused him to unravel and say things he doesn’t mean.

Mrs. Lee beats him to speaking.

“Don’t say that, Minjun.”

The young girl remains quiet and refuses to meet Heeseung’s eye.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In the few years that follow, you resist rolling your eyes when you see Heeseung’s face in magazine ads and billboards across the city. Life takes you to university where you spend the next four years deciding on the rest of your life before you settle on something everybody said you’d be good at.

Graduation approaches far sooner than you’d like and it becomes bittersweet when you see the Lee family, sans Heeseung, in the stadium next to your mom, who are all equally shedding tears as your name is called. Heeseung being absent feels hollow, like another reminder that people choose to leave your life without a moment’s notice but for the sake of keeping up appearances, you smile at the camera when you accept your diploma.

It’s not a surprise to you when you find yourself working in entertainment like Kim Namjoon said you could all those years ago.

A job is a job, but he was right when he told you this would be something you’d excel at. Day in and day out, your responsibilities differ as you begin working at Hybe, formerly Big Hit, to manage the profiles and public appearances of idols and other public figures alike.

Heeseung doesn’t hear from you much. His parents update him on your coursework and send him photos of you at graduation. He cries every so often when he feels the urge to call you and tell you about his day, but doesn’t know whether he has the right to do that anymore. The years in his position has taught him what true life balance is, especially with the media and paparazzi taking an interest in his personal life.

It feels so exhausting to have nobody you can depend on. These days, it’s just him and the three boys he met at the beginning of his career. Heeseung’s popularity has grown so much that he can’t tell up from down. It drowns him in a way he never anticipated and the politics of fame and the industry wasn’t something he accounted for when he began dreaming about a career in the performance space.

Perhaps it’s why he spends his days feeling listless, like he’s got no real potential after achieving his dream. He knows his managers worry for his health and that the other trainees in the building can sense something has been off for a while. Maybe it’s why he roams the halls with headphones on to drown out the noise that’s become his everyday life, with talks of meetings and promotions and everything Heeseung wishes to get away from, if for only one day.

When Heeseung bumps into somebody on his way out of the company elevator, his first instinct is to lean down to collect the papers that have fallen haphazardly on the floor. He pushes his headphones until they rest around his neck and stands to hand them back to the person he bumped into. Only, he feels his body freeze when he sees who it is.

Like Heeseung has always believed, if you really love someone, they will always come back to you.

“Y/N?”

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potential part two ft. the rest of enha … this was a therapy piece lol

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taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr @luvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs @xiaoderrrr @marshwatz @aeripark0703 @bambangan @papichulomacy .

apologies to all tumblr wouldn't tag. :)

#lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen angst #heeseung #my writing #never to keep

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alloftheimaginesblog · 3 months

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intoxicating {benedict bridgerton}

plot: you're an old family friend of the bridgertons', benedict hasn't seen you in years and when he does, boy does he fall fast.

character: benedict bridgerton x plus size female reader

note: i'm back bitchessss :)

You wrung your hands nervously in your lap as you waited for the carriage to stop. A gloved hand took yours, "Do not fret, my darling," your mama said, voice as sweet as honey, "they are old friends, you need not worry."

"I know, mama," you said forcing a quick smile, "I wonder if they will recognise me, it has been quite an age since we last met."

She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, "Of course they will. You and Colin still keep in regular contact, hm?" You nodded. You and Colin had been the best of friends growing up, Violet Bridgerton had always teased maybe the two of you would grow up to fall in love but you were just friends, that is all. You and Daphne had been close too, with her just two years behind you, she was like the sister you never had. "And Daphne, of course... Perhaps Benedict will be there." She hadn't forgotten your crush on the elder Bridgerton brother.

Despite yourself, your cheeks felt hot and you quickly ducked your head trying to not show your mama your embarrassment, "Mama, hush." She laughed knowingly.

It had been years since you had last set eyes on any of the Bridgerton family and yet, Benedict still had a hold on you. You were a few years younger than him but growing up beside the Bridgertons', you couldn't help the crush that formed. And now, almost a decade since you had last seen any of them, he still had some sort of control over you.

"That was all but a childhood crush," you frowned, "I do not still like Benedict Bridgerton."

Oh but how wrong you were.

The carriage stilled and a moment later, the door swung open and you were looking out towards the Bridgerton house, the home you used to run around the halls of.

Oh dear lord.

Music and chatter filled the hall as people flocked inside. Tonight, the Bridgertons' were throwing a ball in honour of the late Lord Bridgerton as this is what would be his anniversary. You and your Mama had been invited and after just moving back to London, you jumped at the chance to reconnect with old friends.

Almost immediately, your mama was whisked away by Lady Danbury, "Go," your mama encouraged, "find your old friends. Have fun." You did not want her to go. If anything, you wanted to latch onto her the whole time. Being here, in uncertainty, filled you with dread and anxiety. You watched her go before you tentatively stepped further into the hall, looking around trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Then, you saw him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He was older, of course he was, he would be eight and twenty now with you four years behind. His dark hair was tousled to absolute perfection, his eyes glinting in the light as he laughed with some men you looked very similar - Colin and it must've been Anthony. They were all so extraordinarily handsome; same dark hair and same sharp jawline. Seeing Benedict sent a flurry of butterflies into your stomach. He was so handsome, so effortlessly charming; one smile and you were gone. All at once, you felt like you were thirteen again giggling and blushing at the mere sight of him.

It was then a squeal sounded from beside you, "(y/n)!" And you were enveloped in a warm hug. It was Daphne, you realised and eased into the hug, "Oh, (y/n), it is simply delightful to see you again!" When she pulled away, you could appreciate how she had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

"Daphne," you beamed, "you are... Look at you!" You hugged her tightly again, "It is so wonderful to be back."

After your hellos, Daphne linked arms with you and began to walk with you, "I heard from my Mama that you met your match with a certain Duke of Hastings." At the mention of her new husband, Daphne's face split into a wide grin.

"Oh, we have so much to catch up on, (y/n)!"

It had been an hour or so since you had arrived at the Bridgerton Ball and you and Daphne had stood in the corner of the room catching up on any and all life events over the course of the last decade. You may have still written to each other every month but it was different getting to explore such events in person. She was wed to the Duke of Hastings which meant she was a Duchess, "Oh, you shall have to come and visit us. It is just so grand!" She clutched your hand and smiled so wide and you could feel her happiness radiating from her being.

"How rare it is," you mused, "a love match." You had always hoped it would happen to you but it just did not. A marriage was not your first priority at the minute but you did always hope for a love match as rare as they were.

"It was not always going to be one. At first we drove each other mad but soon, it developed and now..." She looked down at her lemonade with a wide smile, "and..." Her eyes shifted ensuring no one else was watching and when she finally landed back on you, her eyes were aglow with excitement, "we have a secret." Her left hand fell to her stomach and it took everything in you to not scream with excitement for her.

"Oh, Daphne!" You beamed, hugging her tightly, "What wonderful news!"

"You must not tell anyone, it is only my mother and Simon that know. I have not yet told my siblings."

"I swear, your secret is safe with me."

It was then you felt a tap on the shoulder, "Mi'lady, I do believe that after this many years of not seeing each other, you do owe me a dance." His voice was deeper now but still familiar, still warm like honey.

"Colin!" You turned and found him opening his arms to you which you moved into happily. A little much for being in public but neither of you cared. The Bridgertons' didn't exactly like following rules anyway. He was taller with that same dark hair as his brothers and that chiselled jawline. When he pulled back it was then you could appreciate the beauty of time. He, too, was handsome and his eyes were still so kind, something that was rare these days. When he extended his hand, you gladly accepted his invitation to dance.

Daphne moved to find her elder brothers as Colin whisked you onto the dance floor. Benedict welcomed Daphne over with a wide smile and went to take a drink from his champagne when he suddenly stilled, eyes focused on something - or rather someone. "Something troubling you?" Daphne nudged him though she already had a feeling she knew what he was about to ask.

He lowered his drink, "Who is that delectable thing that Colin is dancing with and how in the world did he ever manage to get her to agree to dance with him?"

Daphne laughed slightly, "Why, brother, do you not recognise her? Perhaps you should take a closer look." Benedict squinted. You and Colin were laughing, your smile wide and happy as you threw your head back. You were exquisite and then it clicked.

"(y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Oh," Anthony nodded, "so it is. My, how she has really grown up, mm brother?" He nudged Benedict's side with a knowing smirk. Anthony knew fine well what his brother would be thinking and feeling at the mere sight of you. You were gorgeous and you were exactly Benedict's type.

Benedict swallowed. When you were growing up, with him being four years older, he just thought you were some annoying kid who would blush every time he spoke to you. He remembered that you and Colin were best friends, always together causing chaos and Benedict had participated sometimes but other than that, he kept his distance. He was four years older and when you were children, that seemed like two different worlds. However now was different. You were an adult, four and twenty to his eight and twenty, that was barely anything.

Anthony was right. You had filled out and grown into yourself. Before when you were timid and shy, you now were confident and proud. You did not care that you and Colin kept forgetting steps and kept trodding on the other's toes because you were so caught up in the moment of being reunited. Your cheeks rosy and warm, lips plump and red, eyes glittering in the candlelight... You had filled out perfectly with curves in exactly the right places, full and soft. Benedict swallowed and briefly closed his eyes before he made his decision.

"Excuse me," he said as he drained the remnants of his glass and thrust the champagne flute hastily in Anthony's direction. Anthony smirked, taking it and placing it onto a nearby waiter's tray. He and Daphne watched him weave his way through the crowd to stop beside you and Colin.

"May I cut in?" He asked.

Startled, you looked at him, face immediately heating up as you realised who was asking to dance with you. Benedict's eyes bore into your own, he never once looked to his younger brother and instead focused all of his attention on you. It made you nervous. You looked to Colin who rolled his eyes, "You know it is rather rude to interrupt a dance, brother. The dance is just about to end-"

"I did not ask you, Colin." Your eyes moved from Colin to Benedict who repeated his question though his tone was softer when he spoke to you, "May I cut in?"

The confidence he had seen in you moments previous seemed to vanish. He smirked knowing that he made you nervous. Words were lost and all you could do was nod. Colin rolled his eyes again, "She is all yours, Ben." He dropped your hands and Benedict picked them back up again, never breaking eye contact with you.

Your heart hammered hard in your chest as you and Benedict began to dance. The music ended and yet, here the two of you were still dancing on a dancefloor that was beginning to clear. Yes, the next song would start in a few minutes but this... this was improper. This was considered impolite to a lot of people; scandalous. From your left, you could see your mama standing with Lady Bridgerton, Violet, and they were... smiling? They did not seem to be angered by yours and Benedict's continuing dance, instead they looked happy? Around you, you could feel the eyes on you and you could practically hear the gossip being shared around the room. Daphne had filled you in about Lady Whistledown and you knew that you would definitely be featured in tomorrow's issue. You were certainly making a lasting impression. Benedict could see that confidence falter and his words broke you out of your thoughts, "Ignore it, ignore them all... Look at me, focus on me." You took a breath and met his eyes again and oddly enough, instead of feeling nervous or embarrassed, a calmness washed over you when you looked at him, "There," he smiled, "Better?"

You nodded, "Better."

"When did you return to London? Was it France you were?"

"Day before yesterday," you said, "Yes, we moved to France. My father had business but my family could move back since my father's work brought him back here. We were able to move back into our old home."

Benedict smiled, "The one with the cherry trees outside and apple trees in the back, yes?" You nodded, "How long has it been since you left?"

"A long time," you laughed slightly, "Around ten years."

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked. He seemed to move with such skill and ease, dancing came naturally to him whereas it took you years of practice to be able to do a good waltz.

"You know, you ask a lot of questions," you teased making Benedict smile, "Yes, I am. It is nice to be back home and lovely to be back with old friends."

Benedict nodded, "So you are not missing anyone from back in France then?"

Smirking, you asked, "Is this your way of asking if I am wed or to be wed or even as much as being courted, Benedict?"

The older Bridgerton boy laughed, "Clearly I was not as discreet as I wanted to be." The violinists began to pick up signalling the second dance was starting and the dancefloor began to fill with people again. Benedict switched dancing styles with ease and a smile.

"To answer your question, no. Friends, yes, but nothing more than mere friends."

"Really?" The corners of his mouth turned upwards, "I must say, that surprises me greatly."

Your eyebrow quirked, "And why is that, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Look at you," he lowered his head so that he was now only mere inches from you, "absolutely divine." Once again, your heart began to thud as your whole body grew heated, "Forgive me for overstepping but you are the most beautiful woman in this place, in the whole Ton. You are simply intoxicating."

You couldn't look at him, too flustered to do anything except let out a giggle which only furthered your embarrassment. It was like you were a girl again, giggling and blushing. Benedict's hand let go of yours as he placed his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him in the eyes, "Do not hide," he whispered. The two of you slowed and then stilled in the middle of the dance floor, "You need not hide from me."

You couldn't help it but your eyes fleeted to his lips. You had grown up wanting nothing more than to be noticed by him and now, here you were. He had finally noticed you.

Then all at once, all of a sudden it dawned on you where you were and what was happening. You cleared your throat, taking a step away from Benedict and dropping away from his touch, "Lord Bridgerton," you said, curtseying and once again hiding your face from him, "I think we have perhaps overstayed our welcome on the dance floor."

With haste, you turned and left the dance floor. Benedict didn't follow, not yet. He had moved too fast, went too far. Clearing his throat, he forced a smile to some gossiping onlookers before he went to find his brothers.

You had not stayed long at the Bridgerton Ball after that, finding your heart wouldn't stop racing and your mind wouldn't stop replaying what had happened. You hadn't wanted to leave so soon but after hearing an unpleasant comment from a rather unpleasant girl, you found your mama, made your excuses and the two of you made your way home.

"Poor girl does not even realise that Lord Bridgerton was only dancing with her out of sheer pity. How on Earth could he ever truly be with someone that looks like that? He was merely pitying her, clearly."

The comment had not stopped repeating in your mind extinguishing the burning hope that Benedict's eyes set alight the moment he looked into yours. How stupid of you to think even for a moment that he had finally noticed you after all this time? How stupid of you to hope that he could feel for you the way that you felt for him? How stupid.

And then Lady Whistledown had something to say about it as well. Daphne and Colin had told you about Lady Whistledown in their letters but you never actually expected to feature in one of the issues!

It seems as though, dear reader, a certain Bridgerton man may be off the market soon enough. An old friend returned to the Ton, (y/n) (y/l/n), and it seems that she made quite the impression on the eligible bachelor. They seemed rather taken with each other that they continued to dance despite the song ending... rather impolite and improper if you ask me, dear reader. However, the dance ended rather abruptly with (y/n) leaving Lord Bridgerton on the dance floor in the middle of a dance. All we know about (y/n) (y/l/n) so far is that she likes to break rules and cause scenes and is this the impression she wants to make? If so, then perhaps she is a good fit for Lord Bridgerton after all. Only time will tell.

You had spent the last few days hiding in the safety of your bedroom. Your mama had tried to coax you out for an early morning promenade but you had declined. Although Lady Whistledown's writing was not at all bad - for she had certainly said worse of others before - you had not wanted to create a scene or cause such a stir. You were horrified at your actions; being improper and impolite on your first night back into society and then with Benedict. You had let him fool you and the reality of that crushed you so heavily. For one small moment, you had let yourself be fooled.

Your mama burst into your room with your handmaidens rushing to keep up with her, "Get dressed, (y/n), we are going out."

"Mama, I do not feel well, I cannot-"

"I know what happened with Benedict has left you embarrassed but I assure you, my darling, Violet was not mad at all. She and I laughed about it, reminiscing about ourselves breaking the rules with our significant others. The ball was for her late husband and you and Benedict reminded her of him... I would say that means you left a good impression."

You rolled your eyes, falling back onto your pillows, "I simply cannot show my face ever again, mama. We have to go back to France."

She laughed loudly, "All because of this? Do not be so silly, child," she perched on the edge of your bed, "My darling, it will pass. Lady Whistledown is already onto new topics, the rest of the Ton will be too. You cannot hide away forever besides... we have been invited for dinner."

"Where?"

She faltered, "It is with the Bridgertons'." Before you could refuse, your mama cut over you, "Violet wanted to extend an invite to welcome us back home, that is all. It would be rude to not attend."

"But he will be there, mama!"

"Why are you so against seeing him again?" She asked curiously, "From where I stood it looked like the two of you were getting along perhaps a bit too well." You bit your lip and looked at your hands. Your mama frowned, "(y/n)?"

"I got caught up in the moment and I let myself hope that it could turn into something but then..." Your mama gestured for you to continue, "A girl made a comment and it made me realise that Lord Bridgerton would never go for a woman like me. I am simply not enough." Tears burned in your eyes and that dark feeling of shame burned strong in your stomach.

"My darling girl," your mama crooned, scooting closer to hold your hands, "I saw the way that man looked at you and that was not a man with bad intentions. After you left, he looked crestfallen and sulked all night. A man who would be wanting to make a fool of you would have gone to his friends and laughed and drank but no... Violet told me that he in fact left shortly after we did, returned to his chambers for the night. That is a man with the intentions of fooling you."

"But I am not enough for him, mama."

She held your hands so tight, eyes boring into your own, "Yes, you are. You are everything and more and if not for him then you will be for someone else. You are worthy and deserving of love and respect, my darling, so do not dare settle for less."

The two of you spent another few minutes with your mama praising you and helping you to realise that what the girl had said was pure jealousy and not true. You felt better, not fixed but better. You felt well enough to accept Lady Bridgerton's invitation of dinner despite the nerves that bubbled in your stomach.

Once again, you found yourself nervously waiting in the carriage to go to the Bridgerton home though this time was entirely different. You were not nervous to see your friends, no, you were terrified of seeing Benedict. You took a breath, stilling your hands and trying your best to calm your heartrate.

"We have arrived," your mama said as the carriage slowed then stopped. The door swung open a moment later, "Relax," she whispered into your ear as you walked to the door, "you look gorgeous." You did, in all fairness. You were wearing one of the dresses your father had made for you from France, the fabrics were rich and soft and the colour made your eyes shine. You looked divine.

Here we go.

Lady Bridgerton greeted you at the door with a wide smile and a warm hug, "Welcome," she greeted kindly, "come, let us go to the dining room."

You followed closely behind and let Lady Bridgerton lead you to the dining room, "It is just as I remember," you smiled fondly, admiring the paintings that adorned the wall, "how lovely."

Lady Bridgerton led you into the one of the living areas, "I must apologise, dinner is running a little behind schedule but it should not take too much longer. (y/n), Daphne is in the library if you would like to be with her until dinner is ready?"

Thankful that you hadn't laid eyes on Benedict yet, you nodded and wandered the halls. It was like muscle memory, you remembered exactly where you had to go and which way to turn and it wasn't long before you were shutting the door behind you seeing Daphne smile up at you.

"I am so glad to see you!" She said with a welcoming hug, "I was worried that you would not attend after..."

"After me running from your ball and disappearing from society for a few days?"

Daphne smiled sympathetically, "What happened?"

"I danced with him - Benedict - and I... God, Daphne, I felt like a child again. I was giggling and blushing and he seemed genuinely interested."

"So what on Earth happened for you to run out?"

You groaned, "He was saying all of the right things and I thought for a moment he might feel the same and I panicked... Your mama must hate me, I have been so improper. I got caught up in-"

Daphne placed a reassuring hand on your arm, "(y/n), calm down. My mama actually was rather happy to see you and Benedict dancing and breaking the rules. As was your mama. I overheard them talking and laughing saying how it reminded them of themselves when they were younger. You need not fret."

"That is what my mama said but I-"

"I said, calm," Daphne said with a laugh, "It will be fine, I assure you. Though I do have a question... why did you flee from Benedict? From what you are telling me, it seems like you still have feelings so why run if he is seemingly showing similar signs of want? Why have you been absent from society for a few days?"

You shook your head, "It is stupid but... Daphne, look at me." Daphne frowned, "I am not small nor am I petite like you and the other girls. I am larger, there is more to me than normal."

"I am not understanding."

"Benedict has always been so desirable, so handsome and charming whilst I... I have never been noticed. I have always been in the shadows. It cannot be true that Benedict would even for one second would notice me, it simply cannot be true." You looked to Daphne who was looking past you, looking at the doorframe and when you followed her gaze, your heart sank. Benedict.

"Sister, do you think you could give us the room?" Benedict asked softly.

"I shall leave you two for a few minutes but I will stand outside the door and will alert if there happens to be anyone coming." She squeezed your hand on the way past and gave a nod to her brother. Benedict only stepped forwards when the door was shut behind her.

He approached carefully and slowly as though you were a skittish kitten and he was trying to not scare you, "How could you say those things about yourself?" He sounded genuinely wounded by your words as though he actually cared.

"Why are you here, Lord Bridgerton?" Your voice was colder than you intended but he knew that it was you putting your guard up. You were afraid of being hurt so he did not mind if it meant you were colder to him. He would get you to trust him.

Benedict scoffed slightly, "This is my house too, you know, Lady (y/l/n)." Had you not been so terrified you would've laughed at his pettiness to give you your title, "I was also searching for you. I wanted to see you before dinner."

"You found me. I am well. You may go."

"You cannot dismiss me from my own home, (y/n)."

"I can try."

Benedict sucked a deep breath in through his nose, "Why are you fighting against me? Why are you so angry?" He swallowed, "Did I... Did I overstep or offend you the other night at the ball? If I did, I must extend my sincerest apologies-"

You looked at him and you wanted to cry. He meant it so sincerely. You could see in his eyes how deeply sorry he was if he had offended you and it broke your walls. You shook your head, "It was not you, Benedict." Your voice quivered pitifully, "I... I let myself get wrapped up in a fantasy and I panicked."

"What fantasy?"

It was now or never, "The fantasy where you finally saw me, finally noticed me; finally felt for me. I am sure you must have known I had the biggest crush on you when I was a child and it seems that it is still here. While we danced, I let myself belief you would maybe perhaps feel the same. I was stupid and childish and other people noticed too."

"Whatever do you mean?" His expression was unreadable but his voice was soft, "What people?"

"As I was leaving... Some girl made a comment about you dancing with me out of pity; that you would not be genuinely interested in me, you were just pitying me. Look at me, Benedict, and then look at you..."

Benedict frowned, "Do you believe that?"

"I..." Your mouth opened and then snapped shut when you saw his gaze, "I had hoped it not be true."

He took a step towards you and you found yourself rather hot and breathless like all of the air was being sucked out of the air, "(y/n), I never saw you when you were younger, I was older and thought nothing more of you than my sister's friend, I admit that to be true... But now... You are divine, you are intoxicating, (y/n). You are driving me insane! You are beautiful - your body, your face, your smile; but you are far more than that." He laughed loudly before rubbing a hand over his face, "You have consumed me. I have spent the last three days in society waiting for you, searching for you; needing to see you again. I have no been able to stop thinking about you; your laugh, your lips, the way we danced... I have pestered Colin trying to make him give me some of your letters so that I may hear your voice in my head, smell the faint smell of your perfume..." He breathed deeply and you hadn't realised but now, your chests were pressed together and you were staring up at him completely helpless. You felt like this was all a dream, surely you would wake up in few moments and this would all be a figment of your imagination... But no, here you were with Benedict Bridgerton professing his love to you.

"I..." He swallowed hard, "I do not wish to take something of yours that does not belong to me but if you want it, if you want me then I will be yours so completely and wholly." His blue eyes bore into yours, "I will be yours if you want me."

His admission had your heart racing and your cheeks were on fire, "I-I have been yours for a decade, Benedict. Always just yours."

Benedict's face split into a wide grin and then your eyes were fluttering shut as he leaned down and kissed you. Your first ever kiss shared with the boy you had loved from being a child. It was then Daphne wrapped her knuckles on the door and you and Benedict were snapped apart both slightly flushed and breathless. Daphne opened the door and let herself in, "Mama's coming, Ben."

Benedict pressed a kiss to your hand, "There is no point in waiting, I suppose," he shrugged, "What say you to marrying me? I apolgise it is not romantic in the slightest or planned out but why wait? You waited a long enough time." Daphne squealed and your jaw dropped, "You have a few seconds before my mother bursts through that door, (y/n)... What is your answer?" He teased with a grin, "Take a leap of faith with me or run away again? What is your choice?"

All you could do was nod and at that moment, the door swung open to reveal Violet Bridgerton, "Dinner is- what is wrong?"

"Mother, get the champagne!" Benedict grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders and twisting you to face his mother, "We are to be wed!"

You winced in anticipation, expecting Violet's reaction to be angry but instead, she gasped and grinned before rushing to you both to hug you tightly. When she pulled away, her eyes were filling with tears, "Oh, my loves," she crooned as she caressed both of your cheeks, "Welcome to the family, (y/n)... Let us go celebrate, hm?"

#reader insert #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #plus size reader #imagine #one shot #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #os

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keerysfreckles · 3 months

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sparks fly — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread

a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.

the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.

y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.

she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.

during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.

y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.

however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.

he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.

sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.

on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.

"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.

"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."

y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.

"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.

she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.

"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"

y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.

"who do you think you are?"

as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.

"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.

his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.

she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.

y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.

she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.

patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.

y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.

once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.

as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.

in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.

y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.

she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.

she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.

what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–

the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.

cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.

"oh darling," cisca starts.

"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.

"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.

"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.

minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.

cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"

she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.

cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.

after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.

"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.

"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.

lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.

"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.

once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.

"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.

he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.

he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.

he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.

"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.

lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.

her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.

"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.

"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.

"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."

"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.

he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.

"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.

"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."

lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."

y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.

"you can't go back there y/n."

"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."

lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."

after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.

"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."

it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.

seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.

he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.

he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.

"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."

y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."

lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.

"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."

y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.

tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.

"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"

y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.

"please, let me take you back in–"

now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.

lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.

"now can you please come back inside?"

"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.

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voxsmistress · 5 months

Text

Mama Didn't raise no Bimbo Series!

Y/n was thrown head first into Hell - like everyone she has to find her own path and she was doing pretty darn good but what happens when she finally comes across the three Vee's who don't necessarily like to share...

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

This was such a bad idea!

Such a bad idea! How did Angel Dust manage to convince you to do this was beyond you. But here you are gripping the handle of the front door of the Vee’s Tower.

“Oh, I’m just running a little late at work honey, meet me at the tower and we will head to the clubs from there,” you mocked under your breath as you turned the handle. Swear, if that Valentino tries to get you to join a porno you will kill Angel.

Deep breaths. Entering the main foyer, you squint because of all the damn bright lights, screens, and décor. Spying all the cameras you drag your coat closer to your body. No hiding from anyone here. You make your way up to the receptionist desk as instructed by your lovely ‘friend’.

“Hey sugar, I’m here to see Angel Dust, they’re expecting me don’t suppose you could tell me where I should be going could ya?” Giving your best winning smile at the bored receptionist, at her unimpressed flicker of her eyes going over your outfit and hair you could feel the smile start to strain. Like everyone, your appearance changed when you came to Hell, and you considered yourself lucky that you mainly had humanistic characteristics – the fangs, violet eyes, skin as white as snow and wicked pink highlights in your hair you just considered as an extra – it could be so much worse. You have seen much worse.

Smoothing your hands over the coat you let your smile drop and narrowed your eyes at the receptionist. Down here in Hell you were sure others just made situations difficult to be difficult. Actually… that was probably true. They were just the worst down here.

Popping her gum in your face you could feel your eyebrow start to twitch. Bitch. Tapping away on her keyboard she proceeds to ignore you for a few moments before pointing at a sign which told you which floors for what people. Seeing Valentino’s floor, you assume that’s where you should be heading. Thanking the receptionist – though she didn’t exactly do anything but affect your confidence in your outfit – you make your way over to the elevators, getting in as soon as one arrived and jabbing at Valentino’s floor.

Crossing your fingers you wouldn’t meet that particular Overlord, considering the receptionist was a pain in the ass you could only imagine what he would be like and from the horror stories Angel Dust told you – you really didn’t wanna meet him.

Reaching the floor quicker than you expected you straighten out your outfit, slightly regretting the black stilettos but they were the only decent heels you have in your closet for dancing, plus the neon pink on the base matched your accessories and splashes of colour on your dress. You fully embraced the image that you were a bimbo, it helped with tips and your image at work. As a singer and a dancer at one of the clubs on Pride Circle, the dumber you appeared the more people underestimated you. And you just loved it when they underestimated you.

It's where you met Angel Dust, in one of the first clubs that you were working at. Through him you then met Alastor who after hearing you sing a few older songs then allowed you to sing on his Radio Show (on occasion) and from him you then met Rosie who put in a good word for you with your now current boss at one of the more respectable (using that term loosely) clubs in Pride Circle. Which is the only reason why you would enter the Vee’s Tower – you owed Angel Dust a lot this was a small ask.

Stepping onto Valentino’s floor the smell of smoke, sex and sweat hit you like a wall. Flickering your violet eyes around you spied the Spider speaking to the Overlord. Damn. Seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be ending any time soon you huffed under your breath before making your way to them.

“Angel, sugar, you ready to go?” You ask when you reach the two, keeping your gaze on him as from the corner of your eye you see the tall Overlord swivel on the spot. Angel’s eyes connect with yours before trying to hide a grimace.

“Heyyy gorgeous, listen it’s gonna be a little later than we planned I’ve just gotta film one more scene then we can go”, catching the mouthed sorry at the end. Smiling understandingly at him you shrug your shoulders.

“Oh no problemo honey, want me to stay or I can meet you at the club?” secretly crossing your fingers that they’d say to meet you at the club.

“Ah no it’s cool if you stay, right Val? Y/n can stay for the last scene?” Bugger. Turning your winning smile up at the infamous Valentino only to see their stare was focused on you already with an menacing smile pulling his face into a sinister expression which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“Ah the famous Y/n, Angel talks about you all the time – don’t you baby! Course you can stay and watch. What about if you participate as well, I could get you a job princessa, with those legs, boobs and that pout you are a star waiting to happen. I could get a contract written up in seconds if you want-“He pulls a deep drag from his cigarette and blows it all around so you three were in a cloud of hazy red smoke. Holding back a cough you try to keep the smile on your lips.

“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but I am happy with my job at the moment but as soon as I want a change in career, I’ll let you know”, I reply to the Overlord. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Valentino’s anger was legendary. To refuse him was to insult him. And you had done all that within a few moments of meeting him. Plus being close to Angel Dust was another factor against you – he was so jealous over Angel.

His smirk grew as he gazed over your outfit. Well, a smirk was better than shouting, right?

“Shame. You could be a star,” another drag of his cigarette before shrugging you off and directing Angel back to the stage. Quickly winking at the spider, you make your way over to a few chairs that were against the wall. Shrugging your coat off you turn to see a few creeps eyeing you up, bloody perverts. Baring your fangs at them you sit down and yank your phone out from your purse.

A sigh leaves your lips, crossing your leg over the other, you peruse Sinstagram while trying to block out the sounds coming from Angel and the other demons and sinners in the scene. Checking on the progress of a few photos of the outfit that you shared earlier of what you were wearing tonight which you had tagged in Velvette as she was the designer of your dress: a tight black dress with stripes of neon pink, ruffles of the neon around the off-shoulder neckline and other intricate details – it reminded you of Marilyn Monroes pink dress, so you had saved up for months to buy it. The almost velvet material clung to your curves in the most delicious way and the colours just accentuated your hair, skin, and eyes. If no one could tell - you just loved pink and again it helped the Bimbo image you put across.

Brushing the waves of hair out of your face you look up and again see a certain Overlord’s stare focused on you, his own phone clutched in his hand. Careful not to challenge him by looking at him head on you keep your gaze soft and lowered. The issue with Valentino was he didn’t always accept no as an answer. And you were so not ready to become a porn star. To be honest since arriving in Hell you hadn’t even entertained any one in your bed. More concerned with getting somewhere safe to live, safe(ish) to work and try not to get mauled, raped or murdered every day seemed to take up your energy. Which is why Angel wanted to go out tonight – to try and get you laid. Chuckling softly as you remembered his horrified face when you said you hadn’t had sex in over a year you let your violet gaze glance over to him. Wincing slightly at the position he was in at the moment, which really could not be comfortable, you let your attention go back to your phone ignoring both the Overlord and Angel as a slight vibrate notified you that a certain Vee had liked your post.

Your mouth opens in shock when you see THE Velvette had liked your photo. Heart racing a little you couldn’t control the smile that stretched across your lips, holding in the little squeal you desperately wanted to let out you settled for giving a little excited wiggle in your seat. Or you were until a shadow encased you. Looking up you lock eyes with the main V. Vox. Uh oh. “And who is this lovely lady, Val?”

Sooooo ... for a first chapter what did ya thinkkkkkk?

A03 Link is here

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin angel oc #hazbin angeldust #vox x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox x valentino x velvette #vox x valentino x velvette x reader

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talaok · 11 months

Text

Just this once

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader

Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.

Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

Everyone hated you in this town.

Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.

People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.

Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.

In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.

Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.

Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.

Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,

And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.

Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.

I love you

If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.

And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.

They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.

But Mr. Miller was different.

He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.

He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".

And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.

And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.

So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.

And it was only a week later when you told him everything.

He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.

Babysitting his kid.

And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.

taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.

And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.

"dad, what are you talking about?"

Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.

"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"

"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.

"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"

There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.

You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.

No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.

"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes

"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"

And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.

And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.

You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.

You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.

You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,

The only exception was when-

The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.

Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.

You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.

"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"

"mh-mh, yes" you nodded

"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.

"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"

He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.

"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"

But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.

"What happened?"

They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.

His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.

"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"

You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.

"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"

"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."

"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"

you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.

"t-thank you" you sniffled

"of course, darlin'"

And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.

And god he felt so good

"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"

"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,

"sweetheart this ain't right I-"

"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"

"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.

"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time"

"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"

"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"

You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him

"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"

"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.

You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.

A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.

"f-fuck" he groaned

You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.

You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.

"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.

You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked

"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"

The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.

series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.

You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.

But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.

You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.

He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.

you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.

"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.

His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too

"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster

"Joel- please call me Joel"

"Please Joel, touch my tits"

And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?

One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.

You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.

The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.

"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"

He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.

You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.

"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"

His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.

your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.

Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect

"Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"

You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.

"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"

You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.

"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"

"inside" you whispered without missing a beat

"I c-can't honey-"

"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"

And with that simple sentence, he was done for.

"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.

And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.

you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.

As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.

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mysunshinetemptress · 3 months

Text

2014

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Coming out,your first experience of jealousy

You can't pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Leah, you conclude that the feelings for your best friend's older sister have always been there just taking shape in different ways but now at the age of thirteen, you know you like Leah the same way Melia likes Chris because your heart beats faster every time you see her and your stomach feels like it drops and Ellie said that's how she feels about Tristan.

You don't understand the importance of coming out to your family it happens one night at the dinner table as your older sisters talk about who they're going to marry you speak up from the end of the table "I'm going to marry Leah."

The clinking of forks against plates ceased. A stunned silence followed, thick enough to cut with a butter knife. You hadn't meant to blurt it out, but the conversation about future spouses, fueled by your two giggling older sisters, had gotten the better of you. Your cheeks burned hotter than the mashed potatoes swimming in gravy before you.

Melia was the first to recover. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Marry Leah, huh? How does Jacob feel about that!"

You stammered, "It's not like that! I just... I like Leah, the way you likes Chris and Ellie likes that Tristan boy." You blurted out Ellie's secret too, earning a glare from your other sister, but it didn't matter. The words were out.

The silence returned, this time a more thoughtful one. You stole a glance at your mum, who seemed to be studying you. You couldn't decipher the emotions swirling in her green eyes. your sisters, on the other hand, looked positively intrigued. Finally, your father cleared his throat, his voice kind.

"Honey, what do you mean by 'like Leah'?"

You took a deep breath. This was it. The moment you'd never prepared for. "It's... it's the same feeling you get when you really like someone. You get butterflies, your stomach does flips, and you just... want to be around them all the time." You blurted it all out, hoping they'd understand.

Your mother reached across the table and squeezed your hand. "And who makes you feel that way, sweetheart?"

You met her gaze, a mixture of fear and determination in your own eyes. "Leah."

The surprise lingered, but it was laced with a newfound understanding. Your father looked at your sisters, who finally met your gaze. A hint of a smile played on their lips.

"Well," your father said, his voice booming but gentle, "that's certainly something new. Leah, what do you say?"

All eyes are on you. The weight of the moment pressed down on you, but there was a flicker of hope in your chest. You'd confessed, and that was a victory in itself.

Your Mum took a deep breath. "Honestly? I had no idea you felt that way, Y/n," she admitted, her voice soft."Thirteen is a bit young to be talking about marriage, wouldn't you say?"

The night continues like normal and as the days, turn into weeks your sisters begin to ask about different girls you might have a crush on, yet your answer never changes "Leah."

In the same year, you discover what love is and how Leah was the cause of it you also discover what heartbreak is and how Leah can also cause it.

You are kicking about the Williamson's back garden when you turn at the sound of Leah's laughter in the kitchen but your eyes catch her body pressed up against the counter a brunette boy leaning into her telling her things you can't hear but it must be funny with how loud she's laughing.

A jolt of jealousy shot through you like a lightning bolt. Laughter, the sound you associated with good times with Leah, now scratched at your heart. You couldn't hear what the brunette was saying, but the intimacy of their pose spoke volumes, that was how close Melia stood to Chris, Melia and Chris were dating now.

This was heartbreak, a new and unwelcome feeling. The butterflies in your stomach did a nosedive, replaced by a leaden weight. You wanted to turn and run, to hide in the familiar comfort of your room, but your feet felt glued to the spot.

Leah finally pulled away, a playful smile on her face as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. The brunette reached out, tucking it behind her ear, a gesture that felt far too intimate for your liking.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Jacob, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding in the kitchen window. An unknown look passed between you, Jacob didn't know about your feelings for his older sister, he didn't need to when you didn't understand your own feelings towards the older girl, but there was a silent understanding of the unfamiliar pain in your chest.

"Who's that?" you managed to croak, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacob shook his head. "Never seen him before. New neighbor maybe?"

You watched, a silent observer to your own life, as Leah and the boy continued talking. He leaned in again, this time whispering something in her ear that made her cheeks flush red. Her laugh echoed through the kitchen once more, but this time it sounded foreign to your ears.

Anger bubbled alongside the heartbreak. You didn't have the right to be mad, not really. You hadn't confessed your feelings, you wouldn't, out of fear that Leah would find it weird and Leah hadn't done anything wrong. But the possessiveness that comes with a budding crush reared its ugly head.

Just then, Leah turned towards the window, her eyes locking with yours. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before a warm smile spread across it. You couldn't decipher what it meant, but it was enough to break the spell that held you captive.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders. You might be heartbroken, but you wouldn't let it show. Not in front of Jacob, not in front of Leah.

"Race you to my house?" you challenged a playful grin back on your face.

Jacob's eyes widened. "You sure, Y/n?"

"Absolutely," you replied, your voice stronger than you felt. "Losers buy ice cream!"

With that, you took off towards your house, leaving a bewildered Jacob in your wake. You pumped your legs, the wind whipping through your hair, a desperate attempt to outrun the unfamiliar ache in your heart. You knew this was just the beginning. The beginning of navigating the messy, confusing world of crushes, heartbreak, and maybe, just maybe, someday, love with Leah.

That wouldn't be the first time you would have your heart broken by Leah, at the end of the year the brunette boy had been replaced by a brunette girl and for some strange reason this one hurts so much more, is it because it's a girl this time that Leah seems so enamoured with or is it their proximity on the couch during movie night, a night solely for you, Jacob and Leah only now theirs an intruder sitting in your seat.

You spend the night staring at the pair as Leah wraps her arms around the girl pulling her closer, talking to her quietly.

As the end credits roll Jacob kicks your leg "Are you staying or you going home." You turn to look at the two older girls as Leah plays with the other girls' hair, you haven't cared to learn her name to caught up in the disgusting feelings you once again have "Yeah, can I stay."

The resentment simmered beneath the surface like a forgotten pot on the stove. You mumbled goodnight to Leah and her friend, their intertwined forms a constant reminder of your own crush on the older girl. Back in Jacobs's room, tears welled in your eyes, blurring the image of Leah's smile in your mind. This year's heartbreak felt sharper, laced with a confusing pang of jealousy you hadn't experienced before.

Days bled into weeks, movie nights with Leah replaced by awkward silences as you tried to navigate the new dynamic. You plastered on a smile for Jacob, who shot you worried glances you pretended not to see.

One day, while helping Jacob clean his room, you spotted a crumpled piece of paper tucked under his desk. Curiosity piqued, and you unfolded it. It was a drawing – of boxes that read tick here for yes and here for no. On top, a caption read: "Sarah I like you, will you go out with me."

A gasp escaped your lips. Jacob, the fearless, outspoken Jacob, had a crush too? Relief washed over you, warm and comforting. Maybe your feelings for Leah weren't so strange after all.

Mustering your courage, you approached Jacob after school. "Hey," you began hesitantly, "I saw that note in your room."

Jacobs's cheeks flushed crimson. "Oh! That? Uh, yeah, it's nothing."

You sat next to him on his bed. "Actually, it kind of is. You like Sarah, don't you?"

Jacob looked down at his shoes, kicking them against the wall. "Maybe. But it's stupid. What if she doesn't like me back?"

The memory of your own dinner table confession surfaced. Squeezing Jacobs's hand, you reassured him, "It's not stupid. You have to take a chance, I would if I could with Leah."

Jacob's eyes widened. "Wait, you like Leah?"

"Well, yeah," you confessed, the words tumbling out now that the dam had broken. "But it's complicated."

You poured out your heart, the confusion, the jealousy, the ever-present lump in your throat whenever Leah looked at her girlfriend. Jacob listened patiently, offering words of support and a shared secret that made the burden feel lighter.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Jacob confessed to Sarah, who, to your delight, reciprocated. You found solace in their budding relationship, a reminder that love, even unrequited, wasn't the end of the world. You started hanging out with the pair more, forging a deeper friendship built on shared experiences, both triumphant and heartbreaking.

One sunny afternoon, while practising your long kicks in the field behind your house, you stumbled upon Leah sitting by the wall, a familiar forlorn look on her face. Hesitantly, you approached. "Hey," you said softly.

Leah looked up, surprise flickering across her eyes before morphing into a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/n. What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, sitting down beside her. "Just, practising."

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the gurgling of the leaves. Finally, Leah spoke, her voice low. "We haven't hung out much lately."

You admitted, "Things have been... different."

Leah sighed. "Yeah, I know. I miss our movie nights."

"Me too," you confessed, then blurted out before you could overthink it, "Maybe we could have one again, just you and me?"

A flicker of hope ignited in Leah's eyes. "Really? But what about Jacob...?"

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay. He has a date with Sarah."

Leah's smile mirrored yours. "Yeah, they do."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing, you and Leah settled in for a movie night, not quite the same as before, but different in a way that held a promise of something new. The ache in your heart had dulled, replaced by a quiet understanding and a newfound appreciation for the complexities of friendship, love, and the messy, beautiful journey of growing up.

You could deal with the heartbreak that came with Leah if that meant you might get to love her fully eventually.

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #2005 #2007 #2010s #2014

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alexsnerdycorner · 16 days

Text

You're My Girl

Title: You’re My Girl

Word Count: 2450

Warning: Smut, Swearing, reader wears a dress, PIV sex, Oral (F receiving), orgasm denial (female), multiple orgasms, no cuddling or aftercare., a bit of a praise kink,

Fandom: X-Men/Marvel/X-men 97

Pairing: Remy LeBeau/Gambit X Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Request: hi hello I am SO here to provide Remy smut requests. reader gets jealous of Bella Donna flirting with Remy so he has to remind her who his girl REALLY is (also she totally hears them)

Summary: Remy has eyes for Y/N but when the League of Assassins and Guild of Thieves have other plans for him, things don’t go well. Bella Donna has been flirting with Remy all day at their engagement “party” which makes Y/N jealous. When she starts giving him the cold shoulder, he takes her into his room and fucks her within earshot of his fiancé. Remy gets off on the fact that she can hear you two.

A/N: Ah! I love this idea! I will say I have yet to read all of the Gambit comics, but I have watched x-men TAS/97 and have read some of the comics with gambit and belladonna. I’m so stoked to be writing this!!! I squealed when I read this request. My dear ANON, if you have any more requests for any character, please reach out. I might even do a part two to this is you all like it.

Work:

When you were thirteen, you were banished from home after showing the mutant ability to create portals that teleported you and others anywhere you could think of. Jean-Luc LeBeau of the Thieves’ Guild took you in off the streets after witnessing you steal some food from a stand in New Orleans’ French Quarter. He introduced you to his adoptive son and mutant, Remy, a handsome fourteen-year-old. Jean-Luc and Remy taught you the ways of their world, turning you into a master thief.

You had always been attracted to Remy from the moment you met him. Remy was always there for you no matter what. He had a soft spot for you as he too was abandoned for being a mutant. The day you turned eighteen, Remy asked you out on a date. You, being in love with him already, said yes.

Things were going great until Bella Donna Bordeaux entered the scene. Bella Donna was the daughter of a high-ranking member of the Assassin’s Guild, the Thieves’ Guild sworn enemy. She also couldn’t resist Remy’s charm and good looks.

Behind your back, Jean-Luc and Bella Donna’s father arranged a peacemaking marriage between Remy and Bella Donna. When Jean-Luc announced it a few months after you turned twenty-one, you were heartbroken.

A few weeks later they held an engagement party for Remy and Bella Donna which you were forced to attend. This is where you were now. Sitting in the corner near where Remy stood in a suit and tie, you watched as Bella Donna came over and linked her arm with Remy’s. A huge smile was plastered on her face. Remy smirked up at her.

“Oh, Remy, mon amour, would you come meet my friend, she has been just dyin’ to meet you?” She said.

“Uh,” Remy paused for a moment as if unsure to go with her, “Sure. Why not, Cher.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as Bella Donna guided him over to a dark-haired woman almost as beautiful as she was. He extended a hand in greeting which she accepted and shook. You couldn’t hear their whole conversation, just bits and pieces as it was loud in the ballroom of the Thieves’ Guild compound. You were supposed to be socializing but just sat there in the corner by the bar and watched Remy.

Bella Donna was giggling at something Remy said and took her hand and pressed it to his chest in a flirtatious gesture. You heard her say the phrase “be a doll” and then the word “drink”.

He turned to her and said something you couldn’t hear and she replied to him. Remy started to walk to the back of the room towards you and the mini bar. He smiled at you as you sipped your drink.

“Hi Cher,” he greeted you.

“Remy” you said flatly.

Seeing the bartender was busy with someone else, he reached over the counter and poured himself a bourbon. He placed the bottle back over the counter, The bartender came over and asked how she could help.

“An expresso martini for miss Bella Donna, please,” he turned to the bartender and then back to you when she turned to make the martini.

“She looks like she’s having fun.” You nodded in Bella Donna’s direction. Her back was turned and she was having an animated conversation with her friend.

“Yeah she is.” He said wistfully and stared at you for a moment with an undeterminable look on his face for a moment. You shied away from his look and found yourself staring at the ground.

“Sir, the drink,” the bartender pushed out the glass to Remy.

“Yes, thank you, mon ami.” He grabbed the drink from the bar. You watched him as he walked back to Bella Donna and hand her the drink. She smiled at him in thanks.

She sipped the drink slowly and glanced up to see you staring. You overt your eyes for a moment as she set her drink down on the table in front of her. You looked back up as she whispered something in Remy’s ear and held out her hand to him. You can’t help but roll your eyes. He looked up at her and took her hand. He led her over to the dance floor.

A slower song started to play as she held onto his shoulder with one had and his hand with the other. He led her in a slow dance. Bella Donna looked back over to where you were sitting to find you staring at the two of them yet again. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Remy’s cheek, making your blood boil.

You shot out of your chair and over to the entryway where Jean-Luc stood.

“I’m not feeling that great, Jean-Luc,” you lied, “I have a migraine, is it okay if I lie down for a bit?”

Concerned, Jean-Luc places a hand on your shoulder, “Are you alright, darlin’?”

“I will be,” you said forcing a smile onto your face, “I would just like to lie down in my room for a bit.”

“Yes, go. Go. I will get you when food is being served.” He patted you on the back.

You take one last glance over to Remy and catch his eye. He raises his brow in question. You roll your eyes and portal to the next room over, your bedroom.

Once in your room you let out a sigh and kicked your shoes off. How could he do this to you? How could he just let her flirt with him all evening without even so much as a look at you to see if you were okay? How could he be –

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. You open and see Remy standing there sheepishly. You looked past his shoulder and could see Bella Donna waiting by the entrance to the ballroom.

“What,” you said coldly but let him in. He closed the door behind himself.

“Pa said you weren’t feelin’ good. I came to check on you.” He said lightly.

“Shouldn’t you be out there with your fiancé?” you asked harshly.

Remy sighed and then chuckled, “That’s what this is about, cher?”

You clench your jaw and look away from the man you loved, “Not like you even care.”

“Come on, dats not fair.” He reached out to touch your arm but you backed away.

“She’s been flirting with you all night at the party for your engagement and you don’t even have the balls to ask me how I’m doing,” you spat.

“Cher-” he starts.

“Don’t ‘cher’ me, Remy. We were dating for almost three years before she found a way to get you away from me. And then you pretend that we never were together. That we never even mattered.”

“Y/N,” he said, “We do matter.”

“That’s not how you’re acting. You never even objected to the marriage. You chose her over me.” Frustrated tears brimmed at your eyes.

“Y/N, dat’s not true. Not true at all. I begged Jean-Luc to let me have you. To find a ‘nother way to unite the guilds. He said I will either marry her or get banished without you. And I couldn’t stand the tought of loosin’ ya. It was Sophie’s choice, cher.” He found your eyes with his own and didn’t let them go. “Don’t ya tink for one second that I chose her over you.”

He moved to touch your arm again and you let him this time. You look up at him with watery eyes, “I miss you already”

“I’m right here, cher. Right here.” He pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t leave me Remy. Please.” You said into his chest, “Run away with me.”

“Dey will hunt us down, cher, you know dat.” He said into your hair.

“Let them,” you pulled back and looked at his face.

“Y/N,” he said sadly.

“Remy, I love you. I always have and I always will. Nothing will change that. I want you. No one else. You”

You could see something go off in Remy’s brain the moment you said you loved him. When you finished talking he leaned forward and kissed you hard on the lips. You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his body. He broke the kiss, “I want you too, mon amour.”

Remy shrugged off his suit jacket, placed it on your dresser, and kicked his shoes off. He then walked you back to the bed and you sat down on it. He knelt on either side of your legs and kissed you. His tongue parted your mouth and danced with yours. His fingers danced at the hem of your short dress. It was flowy so the skirt was around you instead of under you.

“You’re so beautiful in this dress cher,” he said between kisses, “but right now I want it off you and on the floor.”

He pulled up the dress up over your head and tossed it to the ground

“You’re my girl, my only girl,” He growled and loosened his tie before sliding it over his head.

He went back to kissing you. As his hand roamed your body you started to undo the buttons to his dress shirt. You pushed the shirt off his body and let it fall to the floor in a heap. He held you to him, stroking up and down your back and then around to your front, grazing your breasts before stopping at your shoulders. He gently pushed you back so that you were lying down and hovered over you.

“I’m gonna want you to scream my name loud enough so she can hear that you’re my girl. So they all can hear that you’re my girl.” He whispered into your ear. He trailed kisses down your neck and stomach and to the waistband of your panties. He replaced his mouth with his hands and slowly slid your panties off. He tossed them aside all while maintaining eye contact with you.

He scooched back so that his head was hovering over your midsection. He lowered his mouth to your core and started to lick at your clit. His hands holding onto your thighs. Your hands moved to his head, removing his hair from his pony tail, and running your fingers through it.

“Oh god your mouth feels so good,” you moaned. He licked long and slow circles down your clit. When he put more pressure on it, your hips bucked and you let out a moan. He grabbed your thighs harder and let out a soft giggle that vibrated against your throbbing bud.

He introduced a finger into your pussy and you arched your back off the bed. He inserted another finger and you groaned out his name.

“Cher, I’m gonna need you to be a bit louder for me. I know you can do that for Remy.” He began pumping his fingers in and out all while lapping at your clit. He introduced one last finger and began a harsh and fast come-hither motion on your g-spot.

“Oh Fuck, Remy!” You shouted.

“Now dats better, mon amour.”

Your breathing hitched and you felt a coil deep in your stomach start to unravel. Your walls started to spasm and contract around his fingers.

“I’m close, baby.” You cried out. But before you could climax he removed his fingers and mouth. You whined in protest.

“Ain’t no way I’m just gonna let you cum on my fingers. I want you to cum on my fucking cock so you remember that you’re my girl.” He pushed himself up off the bed and removed his belt in one fell swoop. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down with his boxers revealing a long hard cock glistening with precum.

You sat up and reached for his cock. You opened your mouth but he stopped you with his words, “No cher, tonight’s all about you and your pleasure. Lay back and enjoy.”

He bent down to kiss you as you laid back down on the bed. He teased your wet pussy with his hard cock and then pushed in in one quick thrust.

“Oh, Remy! Yes!” you couldn’t contain your moans.

He began a slow and agonizing pace to let you get adjusted. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Ça c’est une bonne fille” he panted. That’s a good girl.

You clenched around his cock at his praise, “Oh, God. I love you Remy.”

“I’m gonna need ya’ to be a bit louder, Y/N,” He grunted, picking up the pace.

He soon began a merciless rhythm with frenzied thrusts and grunts. That familiar feeling of tension came back to your stomach and you hungrily kissed him.

“I’m close, Remy! Please,” You begged loudly.

Please what, cher?” He urged, “use ya’ voice.”

“Please let me come!” you pleaded. The coil tightened, threatening to push you over the edge.

“Go ahead, Y/N,” he howled, “come for me.”

The coil in your stomach shattered, flooding you with pure ecstasy. Your walls clenched around his cock and he swore loudly.

“Merde! Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned.

“Come for me baby,” You kissed his neck.

He let out a grunt and frantically shoved into you before allowing himself to release his seed into you. He pumped his cum into your pussy with his cock and slowly pulled out of you.

He grabbed some tissues from your nightstand and cleaned your pussy gently. He grabbed more and cleaned himself off.

“Woo, cher, Remy loves ya’ so much!” he exclaimed. He took in the sight of you completely undone on the bed from his doing and smiled, “Whaddya say we go back out there? I wanna see the look on ‘er face.”

You knew who exactly she was. It was Bella Donna. So you smirked and nodded your head. Remy helped you up and dressed you before dressing himself in his now wrinkled suit.

He gave you one last kiss before opening your door and leading you out. Jean-Luc was in the corner with Bella Donna and her father. The moment she saw the two of you she raced over as fast as she could while wearing high heels.

“You fucking man-stealing whore!” Bella Donna yelled at you. She raised a hand to slap you but before she could Remy caught her wrist and tutted in disapproval.

“Uh-uh Bella, you don’t touch her. She’s mine.” Remmy growled and released her hand. She stood flabbergasted as Remy turned to you, “Can I have this dance?” He held out a hand to you and without any hesitation, you took it and he led you onto the dance floor leaving a sputtering Bella Donna at the entrance.

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myboipotterimagines · 1 year

Text

Golden - Weasley Twins x Reader (Soulmate AU)

Request: Would you do one where a shy Hufflepuff is Fred and George’s soulmate? Maybe they are connected somehow like a song or marks or something and it takes them a while to find her because she’s so reserved but they end up bumping into her and finding out?

It was common knowledge within the wizarding world that the age of twelve was the most common to find your soulmate. You weren't sure why twelve was the magic number, but you were never the type to question to origins of magic. What you were sure of that twelve passed by with no soulmate to speak of, then thirteen, and then fourteen. It was in your fourteenth year of life that you had given up the notion of having a soulmate altogether. Your parents had found each other even before going to Hogwarts and you had now been lapped by your younger sibling who had matched their first year.

Your parents marks glowed golden on their pinkies - a lifelong reminder of the most important pinkie promise they ever made. Your brother's soulmark was a simple streak on his shoulder from where he brushed against his soulmate waiting on the sorting ceremony.

Before you first touched your soulmate, the mark on your skin was just a dark patch. Muggles that fell in love with wizards or witches often just mistook the patch for a birthmark. The marks on your skin, however, could never be mistaken for anything but a soulmark. You had two marks that were completely separate from the other. The first was a line around your waist and the second a handprint from mouth to ear. The line on the waist could always be a hug from behind. It was easy enough to believe. But the hand print? You tried to keep the worst out of your mind.

It had been four years since you had given up on your soulmate. Exams were just around the corner and then you were out. You were quite tempted to just move into the muggle world and never have to deal with the concept of a soulmate again. You'd marry someone who, even though they weren't your soulmate, treated you well. And wouldn't that be enough in the end?

With that thought in your mind, you turned in your final examination to Professor Umbridge, who you were quite sure never even got a soulmark as it seemed impossible that anyone could love her. A huge wave of relief washed over you as you exited the Great Hall and, just for a moment, you allowed your eyes to close and a deep breath to escape your lungs. It was over.

Your moment was short lived as a chorus of "Get down!" rang out behind you, before a set of arms wrapped around you, yanking you to the ground. Your body slammed against the rough ground, but your head was caught before it hit by another set of hands. Still, your heart raced as you tried to catch your breath.

"Shit," one of the voices said - the one with his arms around you. He transitioned from holding onto you to rubbing your back. "We are so so sorry." "We let out fireworks. Thought the coast was clear but obviously we were wrong," the other voice said, hand still supporting your face. "Here, let us help you up," he offered. You had barely made it upright when the boy in front of you began to scowl. "Fuck, Umbridge," he seethed. "I'm sorry but we have to go."

Instead of leaving you, the boy pulled you along. The other tailing closely behind. "What are you doing?" you asked. "Unfortunately, you're an accomplice now and we're about to be caught." "Accomplice? I just met you!" "Yeah? Explain that to Umbridge over a hot cup of tea and a puddle of blood. You should be thanking me!"

It wasn't until you made what felt like four laps around the castle before you quit running. You didn't even know where you were and you had been attending Hogwarts for seven years. All you know was that you were in a tiny broom closet with two boys you just met. "Lumos," one of the boys spoke, and you finally got a good look at their faces. You rolled your eyes. You should have known it was the Weasley twins. You had never really met the two but the entire school knew of the mischief they caused. It had been far too easy for you to steer clear of them up to this point. "Fred," the twin on the left, George, asked quietly. Fred was looking down at his hand, then up to you. In the dim light you could barely notice the golden glow that now shone on his hand. "It's you," he spoke gently. "What do you mean?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Hesitantly, Fred reached his hand up to your face, placing it where it had been only moments ago. "You're golden," he smiled.

"My whole life I was wondering how I would get those marks," I laughed. "I always feared the worst, just because of where they are. Did you feel the same way?" He shook his head. "I always just assumed it would be a handshake." You rolled your eyes. "A handshake wouldn't give you this, though." You pulled up the other sleeve of his robes - nothing. No mark whatsoever adorned him. "That doesn't make any sense." When your eyes rose up to meet Fred's, he was looking beside you, at his twin, whose forearm revealed the missing piece of the puzzle. He, too, glowed gold.

***

Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins x reader #hp imagine #hp #harry potter #harry potter imagine #soulmateau

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quin-ns · 5 months

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The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.

At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

#stepbrother!jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #step bro!jj maybank #the blue #obx #outer banks #quin-ns writing

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just-shairahhh · 3 months

Text

The Way I Loved You

Summary: Eddie and y/n were best friends since they were in middle school. But Eddie's life with Shannon and y/n's unrequited, one-sided love drove them apart. It has been years now. And everything has changed. Can two best friends find their way back to each other? Or has there been too much history? Is their space for someone new to step in and mend what broke y/n or will her past engulf her again?

Word Count: 2K.

You can read Part 2 here:

"And then came the day when you stood by him at Church, not where you had dreamt of standing, facing him as his bride. But you were there as his best-woman, behind him, like you had stood all your lives. Watching from afar as he reached out for someone else".

You were thirteen, playing with your little sister in the front yard when you saw a car pull up in front of the house next to you, that had been sitting empty for months. And out walked the most chaotic family you had ever laid eyes on. Parents, brothers, sisters, grandparents; all clamouring over one another, speaking in a language you didn't quite unde. All trying to get a good view of the house. It was in that moment of chaos, at the naïve age of thirteen, you first understood the meaning of the word “Equanimeous” when your eyes met with the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. But you would be blind to not notice the swirl of caramel in them. It was as if you saw it all in his eyes, how the sun had itself come down, to embrace the rich earth, its hues promising hope and life. He stood right at the heart of the chaos, and while he was not physically a part of it, he carried all of life's turmoil, right inside of him.

One look at him and you knew. You knew that loving Eddie Diaz would prove to be just that, like you are standing in the middle of chaos. Always. But when he turned towards you, his cautious, kept eyes piercing through yours, you knew that it was already too late. So you did the only thing you could think of. You raised your hand, and you waved.

You were sixteen, sitting at the foot of his bed, doing homework together when Eddie confessed to you that you were the best friend he ever had. How you would listen to him and be there for him like no other. How you would understand him like no other. How he loved to listen to you gossip and go on and on about the littlest, most random things. And just as your heart had started to swell with all the emotions too complicated for a sixteen-year-old, they had all come to a crushing end just as quickly. For it was the same day that Eddie had confessed to you about his feelings for Shannon from middle school, for the first time.

As you lay in bed that night, the realisation hitting again and again, like tumultuous waves hitting the coast repeatedly till there is nothing left to salvage, that Eddie Diaz would never see you the way you see him. He would never find meanings of unexplainable emotions in your eyes. He would never find the peace in you, that you found in him. You realised that your best friend Eddie Diaz would never love you the way that you already love him. Whole-heartedly. Selflessly.

You were nineteen, high school somehow already a distant memory but your best friend still seared in your heart like a fresh pain. The past year was a whirlwind. You saw the only guy you had ever loved since you were thirteen, expecting a child with the only woman he had ever loved. And you were there for all of it, such was the cruel joke of life. You saw him slowly fall in love with Shannon, confess his raw, honest feelings about her, to you, call you with tears in his eyes when he got to know that Shannon was pregnant. And you were there for him for all of it, because to you, at the end of the day, he was your home, your Eddie and even if your best friend had slowly started to feel more like the chaos itself than your escape from it, you did not turn away.

And then came the day when you stood by him at Church, not where you had dreamt of standing, facing him as his bride. But you were there as his best-woman, behind him, like you had stood all your lives. Watching from afar as he reached out for someone else. So that day, after the ceremony, you wished your genuine best to a very pregnant Shannon and a dreamy eyed Eddie and never looked back. You had a flight to LA to catch to. A fresh start, you told yourself, leaving more emotional baggage than the physical ones you are taking. And in that same night, to the complete unknowing of your best friend of more than five years, with a new destination, a new determination and a new phone number that only your family was aware of, you left home. To never to turn back again.

You were twenty-two, living in LA, the traumas of your first love, now a faint scar in the back of your heart. Currently your heart was filled to the brim from the love of all your children. You were making your own way in the world, as a social worker, focusing on Child Protection and Child Rights Violation. You were connected with several NGOs, orphanages and other government organisations to uplift the condition of homeless and orphaned children. You were happy doing what you did and you were bloody good at it.

You had tried dating ever since settling here and even were in a relationship, but the fast paced dating world had left your old school ass behind a long time ago. And you weren’t ready to jump on that wagon again just yet, after your terrible history.

You were twenty-five, on your way to an appointment with the partners of the firm handling a very sensitive case related to the children of one of your NGOs when you got a call from your mom. Who said that Shannon had left Eddie and his son, Christopher, a while ago. Who said that Eddie was a single father providing for his son who got diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy a few years ago. Who said that to escape from the continuous pressure of his parents to leave Christopher with them, Eddie had moved away a while back. And that he had decided to come to Los Angeles. The call left you shocked but not shaken. And while you sent out a small prayer for Eddie and his son, a part of you was also happy and relieved that there were no memories or feelings rushing back, cramping your heart, filling you with heart break and panic at the mention of your ex-best friend. You smiled gratefully at how far you’d come and left your apartment for your meeting.

It was the same day that you were in a heated argument with one of the partners over the best outcome for the currently derailing situation when alarms started going off everywhere. “FIRE!” someone screamed and people started running out and about chaotically. And while you managed to get out safe, the flames had already escalated, filling smokes everywhere. You heard sirens from somewhere but before they could reach, your eyes fell upon a few of your colleagues who were in floors above yours and were now being evacuated in poor conditions. So you decided to step back and help.

That is when your eyes fell on Joyce, your best friend of six years and roommate, limping towards you. Joyce was a huge part of your healing after you had moved to LA. When they talk about female friendships being there for you and helping with all your life problems, they talk about people like Joyce. But right now, you could see her arm was burnt and could tell that it was a deep wound. You knew not to put a cloth or ice on a burn wound but you had no idea on exactly what to do. So while you ran to her and caught her in your arms, just as she collapsed on you, you were starting to panic yourself. And that's when the voices around got louder.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” You felt someone lightly touch your arm. You couldn’t look away from Joyce though. Your eyes tearing up. Was it from the smoke or for the pain your best friend was feeling? You couldn’t tell.

“Hey, are you hurt? Are you okay?” The voice asked again. An urgency in his gentleness.

“I- I am. But, but my frie...” You had started to panic again and could not reach to the end of your sentence. But you did not need to say more. The voice behind you, had already started to deal with the problem.

“Hey, Chim! I need some help here.”

And suddenly Joyce was taken from you. You started to scream, when the soothing voice behind you spoke up again.

“Hey, it’s okay. They are going to check her and treat her now. You did good. You need to get checked as well. It is okay. You are okay. So will she".

You turned around hastily, selfishly trying to pull all the comfort and warmth from him that you can. And when you found him, the source of the tranquil, you couldn’t help but gasp a little. For you were met with the most gorgeous pair of ocean blue eyes. And maybe it was the shock settling in, but everything else seized to exist as he looked down at you and smiled.

Guiltily, you were one of those people who seeked out what someone's eyes held when you first met them. Joyce always thought it was weird. But you countered it with a, "Weirder than, I don't know, checking out their haaaands?" and shut her up with a bombastic side eye.

And no matter what she said, you found that someone's eyes could say a lot about them. Or so you believed. However, you'd never met someone before today, whose eyes spoke of tranquility, of quiet or of peace. Everyone was fighting an inner battle. Anxious. Scared. Apprehensive. And even if the face hid most of it, the eyes could never. Even the boy you had fallen in love with the moment he looked at you, screamed chaos. And while you had found your peace back then in the havoc, that phantasm was quick to die down.

And just like that, you knew that the person checking you for injuries right now, as the world seized into a slumber from the minute you looked at him, was different. Very different.

Everything after that became a blur. The mop of brown hair, the owner of those magnetic blue eyes, long lost in the haze of the smoke.

And that brings you to today, a few weeks after the accident, a standing nervous ball of wreck in-front of the Fire Station 118, with a basket of muffins as a thank you from everyone for saving their lives. Yes, you are aware that there are other ways to send your gratitude, as sharply and knowingly pointed out by your best friend but you both knew that you had someone to find. Or maybe something. Something that you had felt missing in you for the longest time.

And that is when you saw him again. Leaning against a fire truck, a clipboard in his hands. You would think he was very seriously focusing on something, if it wasn't for his mischievous eyes, giving way to his stoic face. Apparently he saw you too, because you saw him put away the clipboard and make his way to you. And for the first time, you had the privilege to take in his appearance fully. His LAFD tshirt definitely doing justice to the fact that he works out regularly. You licked your lips unconsciously as you slowly took him in; from his chiselled jaw with that light stubble to his bulging biceps, down to his sculpted-

You quickly shake your head and mentally slap yourself as he stands before you now, hovering quite a few inches over you.

“H-Hey. Um...” He started.

“Um, hi. I am y/n. We met at the. I mean not met. I mean, could be met.” Great start. Another mental slap.

“No, totally. Totally met. I remember, ofcourse. How’s your friend? Oh, I am, um, am Buck. I mean, Ev-. Buckley. Evan Buck Buckley. Not like Buck as a middle name. Like, people call me... um, Buck. I am Evan.” He finishes softly.

You smile at his rambling and in his genuinity and sincerity, find something that you had always been seeking but never found. Something that felt like a soothing balm to the tears in the unrequited, unacknowledged corners of your heart.

“Hi, Evan. It is so nice to meet you. Again.” You smile. A carefree and maybe a little hopeful one.

And that’s when you hear it. The voice that you had grown up loving. The voice that you had moved on hating. The voice that had pulled you from the mayhem around. The voice that had pushed you right back into that seamless pit. That voice that was now calling your name, somewhat with disbelief.

“y/n?”

“Eddie.” You whisper softly.

And all the memories and emotions long pushed to the corner, comes crashing back.

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