#even if it's like twice as long as it should be

[starsinthesky5]

why do you like me so much then? || joe burrow x reader

description: why do you like him so much? everything you said made him sound like a lackluster boyfriend, so why did you like him so much?

a/n: this is either really bad, chaotic, all over the place, or just yapping. sorry. the fact that this was supposed to be a blurb?? yeah. i cannot write blurbs LOL.

thanks to @joeyb1989 and my anons for giving me inspo for this! and to joe with that sexy, bratty eyebrow raise that I can never move on from

word count: 9.2 k

warnings: angstttt, smutttt, fluff

————————————————

3 hours. That's how long it took you to get ready tonight.

You spent an uncharacteristic amount of time carefully positioning each strand of your hair, ensuring that each piece was perfectly curled and set. You made sure every piece of jewelry from your delicate necklaces to your sparkling earrings and bracelets, all of which were gifted by your boyfriend, shimmered in the warm light and reflected a soft glow. Each stroke of makeup had to look flawless to complete the look, your eye shadow blending in seamlessly as you perfected your small winged eyeliner. The silk sage green slip-on dress you wore–with a delicate lace trim–fit your body like a glove; highlighting every aspect of your beautiful figure perfectly. 

You looked amazing and you felt amazing for the first time in a long time. The past few weeks had been filled with strangeness and ambiguity and you were in desperate need of a change of pace. The strangeness came from how you and Joe had been a bit distant from each other lately, which was uncommon for you two. You were constantly attached at the hip, utterly fixated on each other to the point where the mere thought of being apart would lead to a state of misery and endless complaining. But this past month, you couldn’t be more disconnected from each other. Joe had been so wrapped up with football training this past month to the point where it felt like you two barely saw each other, and that didn't sit well with either of you. You always used to make so much time for each other no matter what, but recently it felt like you two stopped trying.

Every time you thought of planning something to do together such as a little lunch date at your favorite cafe, or a relaxed hike around the park, even just ordering takeout and eating together on the couch while watching a movie, it would always get moved or put off till the next week because Joe had something come up. Either it was more training (which was understandable), more brand shoots (somewhat understandable), or even because he wanted to hang out with the guys--completely not understandable. 

You were never the kind of girlfriend who would keep her boyfriend away from his friends, especially because you actually really liked Joe's friends and greatly appreciated the support they gave him, but when he started using them as an excuse to pass on spending time with you, that's when you became a bit bitter. You were the most understanding person when it came to the things Joe had going on in his life. You knew that he had a lot on his plate and couldn't always be fully present for you, but he always tried his best to be. Or at least he used to. 

Passing on training and brand-related work was hard, but passing on hanging out with his friends once or twice so he could go through with the plans he made with his girlfriend was fairly easy. 

It should be easy, right?

But Joe didn’t do that. He instead moved your plans to hang out with them, and that hurt. He said that you could do the lunch date, hike, or takeout food & movie evening later on, but that 'later' rarely came around. He would just get swamped with more things and you'd be so focused on your work that you couldn't bother to bring up the subject again. 

Joe noticed your increased irritation as well, but he just never said anything because he didn’t feel like it was anything serious, just you in a mood. He wasn't sure what made you so resentful all of a sudden, but he knew better than to argue with you about your sudden mood swings, especially because he knew there could be over 100 reasons for them and didn't really want to set you off even more by pointing it out. 

What Joe did notice was that you two hadn't had much one-on-one time like that recently–completely oblivious to the fact that's exactly why you were so bitter–so he decided to take the first step and offer to take you to dinner at the end of the week. You were so excited when he proposed the idea of going to dinner on Friday, looking forward to spending some much-needed quality time with the person you loved the most. He told you that he'd take you to this new steakhouse in Downtown Cincinnati and then he'd take you down to the banks so you two could lay against the grassy field and look up at the stars together, something you used to do every weekend during the off-season but something had slowly fizzled out as time went by and your weekends became a bit more intense. 

"Every star in the universe reminds me of how much I love you. You’re not just a part of my world; you are the center of my galaxy, and everything else revolves around the love we share," is what he told you the first time you went stargazing. Those special words have stuck with you ever since, especially the part about how you’re the center of his galaxy, but lately, it started to feel like the center of his galaxy had shifted to something other than you. You couldn't figure out when things shifted; those genuine, pacifying moments you two shared became scarily rare. In the back of your mind, you felt like you were losing him. Even though you weren't, it just felt like it, and that was the worst feeling out of them all. Nothing you did or he did made that thought go away. What you didn't or he didn't do is what made it worse. 

You were determined to use this date as a way to move things back on track in your relationship, hopefully even talking about how off things had been lately, so that’s why you dedicated an unusual three hours to primping and preparing. Despite your efforts to achieve perfection, Joe’s love for you was unwavering, regardless of your appearance. He adored your natural beauty, free of makeup, and cherished your tousled, messy hair. He found you just as enchanting in your old gray sweats and one of his worn-out college t-shirts that made you look oh-so tiny. You knew how indifferent he was to perfection, but you wanted everything to be excellent tonight, even if he didn't need it to be. You needed this. 

You were filled with anticipation as you imagined walking into the restaurant with him, the warmth of his hand in yours. You could almost taste the first sip of wine, feel the soft buzz it would bring, and sense the rush of emotions as you immerse yourself in the familiar and comforting bubble of your love for each other. You needed to feel that again so badly.

You took one final look in the mirror, "Damn, I look good. He’s going to love this," you whispered to yourself as your eyes navigated up and down your figure before giving yourself a small nod of approval and exiting the bathroom. You grabbed your white chanel handbag which was one of the many birthday gifts he had gotten you last month and made your way out of the shared bedroom and down the stairs, a big smile on your face as you were expecting an adorable, dressed, and ready Joe awaiting your arrival. But as you reached the last few steps, your smile dropped as you were met with the exact opposite. 

You were met with a Joe dressed in gray sweatpants and an old LSU tee whose back was facing you while he was sitting on the couch, had his headset on, and was playing video games on the TV. 

"Today is Friday, right?" you whispered to yourself as you pulled your phone to read the date, which showed that it was in fact Friday and you weren't crazy.

"Joe?" you called out as you slipped your phone back into your bag, slowly walking down the couple of steps you had left with a look of sheer confusion on your face. He didn't hear you, but you heard him.

"Aye, man. What the fuck?" he said loudly as he started aggressively pushing the buttons on his game controller. "How the hell did you get to level 10 when it's only been a week since the last time we played?".

His friends. He was playing with his friends. 

"Of course," you scoffed as you walked over to the living room where he was, throwing your handbag onto the dining table before calling out for him again. "Joe?.... Joeeeee?" you said louder from behind him, but he still didn't look back at you. 

"He has to be fucking ignoring me. There is no way his headset is this soundproof," you thought to yourself as you shook your head and walked around the couch to come into his view. 

Joe looked over and saw you walking towards him, his eyes giving you a quick once-over before settling on your soft eyes which had a slow burning fire behind them. "You look nice," he mumbled to you before looking back at the TV. While he may not have looked directly at you, his words were genuine–he couldn't help but admire your alluring beauty.

“....Thanks...,” you replied with a dubious tone. “Did you forget that it’s Friday?” you asked him as you looked over at the screen and then back down to him, no response yet again. 

“No, don’t go that way,” he warned his friends through the headset, completely ignoring what you just asked him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you thought to yourself again.

“Joe? Hellooo?” you called out again but waved your hands for him to see you from the corner of his eye, which he did but didn’t say anything. You were becoming increasingly annoyed with his lack of attention towards you, especially since you knew he could see you and see that you were trying to get his attention. 

"Do you need something?" he finally asked as he moved one side of his headset off his ear, still too focused on the game and his friends to focus in on your conversation. 

"Do I need something? Yes, I fucking need something. I need my boyfriend to go on our date with me which he promised to take me on," you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to scream into a pillow.

"Baby, it's Friday," you took a deep breath and said, crossing your arms as you tried to prevent yourself from flipping out on him.

"Yeah, I know," he softly laughed, putting the headset back on again and going back to the game, not even bothering to wait and listen if you had anything else to say, which you did.

You were absolutely dumbfounded by his actions; it was clear that he was intentionally overlooking you. Joe knew you wouldn't bother him like this without a good reason, especially during his video game time with his high school buddies, so his behavior was completely unjustified. 

"Did he forget?" you thought to yourself, feeling your heart break a little at the thought. There was no way he forgot, right? He was the one who planned this date, how could he forget?

Your expression softened as you asked him, "Did you forget?". You didn't really want to hear his response because deep down, you already knew the answer. Admitting it meant that he actually forgot about you.

But you didn't need to hear his response because there was no response. 

You looked back and forth between him and the TV, seeing how he was practically looking right through you and pretending as if you weren’t standing there in the most date-night outfit ever. Joe was oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t that oblivious.  

“Fuck this,” you mumbled, deciding to take matters into your own hands since he wasn't listening and didn't look like he was planning on listening. You walked over to the TV, grabbed the plug from the outlet behind it, and yanked it so hard that you could've pulled out the entire electrical system in the wall. 

"Y/N, what the hell?" you heard from behind you, as well as the sound of Joe taking his headset off and throwing it down onto the couch. 

"Oh, so now you acknowledge my presence?" you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused. 

"What do you think? I called out your name like 4 times and got no response. Then when I actually got your attention, or I thought I did, you didn't even answer my question fully and brushed me off like I was just some girl," you said as you walked closer to him, the built-up bitterness inside of you begging to be released. 

"You're not just some girl," he shook his head. "You're my girlfri-," he began to say before you interrupted him. 

"Oh yeah? Then act like I am. I asked you a question and you completely ignored it and ignored me," you grumbled as you gave him a look that he instantly knew meant you were genuinely pissed off. 

"What do you mean? I did answer your question," he shrugged. 

"Fucking barely? I told you it was Friday and was hoping that would ring a bell but it didn't, and then I asked you if you forgot but you had already put your dumb fucking headset on and either didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me," you snarled, rolling your shoulders back as the tension in your body increased and put a strain on your upper body. 

"Ohhh, it's Friday? So what?" he sarcastically laughed while shaking his hands, then stood up and practically towered over you. You hated when he did this whenever you two got into a little disagreement, it felt like he was showing the power he had over you and made you feel 10 times smaller. 

"Are you serious?" you asked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and your eyes beginning to well up with tears. It wasn't sadness that caused the tears, but a deep sense of anger. 

"What did I forget hmm? Because I'm pretty sure that I already did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen from lunch, ordered the groceries, and watered your plants outside," he asked, the bratty tone in his voice making you want to scream into a pillow and then proceed to hit him with said pillow. 

You felt your bottom lip tremble as your entire body felt a wave of sadness overpower the anger you were feeling. 

He really forgot. 

He didn't forget to do all the other things that weren’t that big of a deal, but what he did forget was the most important thing.

"Our...our date, Joe?" you choked out, feeling a tear fall from your eye it felt like the world went silent. "Our fucking date," you said again, this time with more anger in your voice, wiping the tear trail from your cheek. So much for your flawless makeup. 

Joe's heart immediately sank at the mention of the word 'date.' He had completely forgotten about the plans you had made, the plans he had made. How could he have forgotten something like this? He knew how important this date was; it was the first time in a long time that you two got to spend alone time together away from everything. Even though he never said it, he felt awful that each time you tried to plan something together, it was pushed back for some reason and never thought about again. 

His eyes softened as he realized why you were mad, "Y/N, I'm so sorry...I forgot," he said. 

You remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths but that wasn't really working. "I shouldn't be surprised you forgot, you know? I've been practically invisible to you this past month," you scoffed, a few more tears falling from your eyes unknowingly. 

"Invisible?" Joe questioned, a bit taken aback by your harsh response. Yeah, he had been spending less time with you lately, but in no way were you invisible to him. 

"Yeah, invisible. It's like I'm just not here. You've been basically avoiding spending time with me and the one time you offer to plan something, you conveniently forget. Spare me, Joe," you shook your head and said. 

"Woah, I wouldn't say I'm avoiding spending time with you?" he said as he took a step closer to you. "I've been busy, you know I've been busy,".

"I get that, but what about those times when you ditched doing something with me so you could do something with the guys? I understand if it’s because of training and stuff but getting ditched for your friends? That hurts. Especially when we already had plans but you moved them and little old me always went along with it because I didn't want to rock the boat," you cried, your tears breaking through and free-falling down your cheeks now. 

"Rock the boat? What are you...what are you even talking about?" he threw his hands in the air and asked. "What the hell is she talking about? I know we've been spending less time together, but in no way is the boat being rocked. We're fine?" he thought to himself. 

"Here you go with the oblivious act," you laughed through the tears in amusement. "Un. fucking. believable. You always do this whenever you’re in the wrong, and frankly, I’m sick of it. You're acting as if I haven't been visibly miserable the past few weeks. Oh, wait. That's just it, how would you know? I'm invisible to you," you said, your voice a little louder as the anger was once again taking over. 

"Look, I don't know what the fuck I did but I don't understand why you're blowing up over this," Joe said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. 

"That's just it. It's mostly what you didn't do. You didn't bother to reschedule our plans, you didn't bother to check in on me to see if I was really okay with you moving our plans, and you didn't fucking remember we were supposed to go out tonight," you yelled, your breaths becoming shorter as you felt yourself turning red from slight distress. You felt awful for yelling at him, but all of the emotions you had built up this past month were coming out at once and it was not going to be pretty. 

Joe stood in silence, his eyes fixed on you as you continued to express your disappointment with his recent behavior as your boyfriend. He felt a sense of unease as he realized the impact of his actions on your emotions. He knew he was in the wrong, but he was hoping you understood how hectic his schedule was and how that prevented him from giving his all to you recently. 

You always understood. And if you didn't, you talked to him about it. But this time you didn't do either of those things, and that made him a little upset. Communication was a big part of your relationship and although it had been pretty off this past month, he thought you would’ve said something to him if you felt this bad about everything. 

"You know, instead of yelling at me about all of this, why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" he asked, now feeling a bit irritated himself. "If you felt so 'invisible' why didn't you tell me right then and there?". 

"Are you really blaming me for this?" you said, looking at him in disbelief. It was unbelievable that he was trying to ignore your feelings, especially when you rarely blew up on him like this so that should tell him that you were really hurt by all of this.

"I never…I never said that," he said while sucking his bottom lip in. "All I'm saying is that we didn't need to have this big argument about it if you just talked to me about how you were feeling before,".

"That still wouldn't change the fact that you forgot about tonight," you snapped, placing your hands on your hips. When your hands touched the smooth, silky fabric of your dress, it seemed to emphasize every curve of your body, catching Joe's gaze for a moment. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach as he admired your figure once more, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance a bit closer than he did before. "You still haven't given me a reason," you added.

Joe's frustration was growing as he felt increasingly annoyed by your words, despite his understanding that he had made a mistake. Instead of fixing the issue, your yelling was only aggravating the situation. "You know what? Fine. I forgot. Whoops. My bad," he retorted in a tone that was both monotonous and bratty. He went quiet for a moment, thinking of a devious plan to make you even more annoyed. 

But why did he enjoy making you feel irritated? Because he liked seeing you get all hot and bothered because of him. "I forgot because I was having a great time with my friends and lost track of time. I guess they were more interesting than you," he said smugly.

He knew he was being an absolute dick right now, but part of him was having fun watching you get heated over this and wanted to see you get more flustered. “Is it bad that I think she looks hot as fuck right now?” he thought to himself. 

"God, your fucking attitude pisses me off sometimes," you yelled. As you shook your head, you couldn't help but feel another wave of anger towards him, even though looking around, you realized that the issue at hand was frankly trivial. It wasn't the specific problem–forgetting about the date–that got to you, but rather the underlying feeling of frustration and disappointment that had built inside of you for the past month. Tonight was just the final blow that tipped you over the edge.  

Despite your irritating behavior and petty bickering, Joe was really turned on right now. Something about seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that fire in your voice just got him going. You were taking charge, and he loved that even if he was pissed that you were arguing with him about something that didn’t need to be this big of a deal. You were putting him in his place and he liked that about you. He liked that you weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit. 

His eyes traced a slow, calculated path from your legs, to the graceful curves of your body, to the gentle contours of your breasts, then up to the curve of your neck, before finally meeting your captivatingly beautiful face. He couldn't resist the temptation to admire your compelling appearance, making it even more challenging for him to focus on the petty argument you were having. He felt bad that you got all dressed up for a date that wasn’t happening, but he did enjoy seeing your precious cheeks turn red out of anger, seeing your body tense up in a way that was practically begging for him to relieve it. 

He licked his plump lips as his eyes flashed to a darker shade of blue before saying, "Then why do you like me so much?". 

Your breath caught in your throat as you were trapped by the intense gaze in his eyes. Those dangerous, smoldering, bedroom eyes always seemed to have an irresistible effect on you. The words that followed, said in a tone that ignited a wildfire within you, made you feel an almost overwhelming urge to drop to your knees in front of him. “No, No, No. I’m mad at him. It doesn’t matter how much I would love for him to take away my ability to walk right now. Keep it together,” you thought to yourself, feeling butterflies flutter through your stomach. 

You remained quiet and continued to stare at him, watching him raise his eyebrows in the brattiest way possible as a result of how he easily silenced your bitching and moaning and because of how you had absolutely no response for him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Cat got your tongue?”. 

“I’m not playing this game with you right now,” you rolled your eyes and snapped, starting to back up and walk away before you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist and pull you right back to him.

A playful smirk danced across his lips as he pulled you into his embrace, immediately planting a trail of soft, teasing kisses along your neck, successfully redirecting your attention.

“Joe,” you whispered, trying to get out of his hold but struggling because of how he was holding you so tightly and pressing kisses all along your neck—your favorite spot to be kissed. “Oh fuck,” you lightly whimpered, feeling him nip and bite at your skin as he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently squeezed it. 

“Hm? Why do you like me so much then?” he mumbled as he dropped wet kisses up to your ear. “If I’m such a horrible boyfriend, why don’t you just leave?”.

“Fuck, Joe,” you accidentally moaned, feeling him start to suck on your favorite spot which made a pang of arousal shoot up your spine.  “So much for trying to keep it together,” you thought to yourself. “This has to be a massive ego boost for him,”. 

It definitely was. He took pride in knowing that he could so easily make you forget about your anger towards him by simply doing what he did best, skillfully and attentively worshiping every inch of your body.

“Hm,” he laughed against you. “I guess that’s why you don’t leave,” 

“You’re being a brat,” you said a few seconds later as you threaded your fingers through his frosted tips, pushing his head closer to your neck. Your actions are a complete juxtaposition to the words that came from your mouth. You were mad at him, but you weren’t acting like it. The sounds leaving your lips, your needy touch, it was all the complete opposite of what you were saying.

“No, you’re being a brat,” he said as he moved out of your neck and looked into your firey eyes. 

He had some nerve to be calling you a brat right now. You weren’t the one that had been ignoring him tonight or the one that had been brushing him off all month. “Go fuck yourself, Joe,” you spat out, the bitterness evident in your words, but it seemed to have little effect on him.

“How about you fuck me instead?” he boldly said while giving you the same tempting, inviting eyebrow raise again. 

“If he looks at me like that again, I swear to god I’m going to end up pregnant. Fuck. Why does he have to look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at him,” you thought to yourself. Gradually, the intense anger, sadness, and constant irritation towards him turned into strong feelings of fierce desire, urgent need, and passionate emotion.

As you stood face to face, a noticeable tension filled the air, the heat rising as if a fire had been torched between you. His passionate gaze reached into you, sending jolts of electricity through the space. It felt as though he was silently expressing that he had the power to make you forget everything, if only you would allow him to.

And god you wanted him to. 

You quickly reduced the space between you both and smashed your lips against his, his hands dropping down to your waist and holding you tightly as a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you. This is why you don’t leave,” he whispered in between the messy kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, completely melting under his fervent touch. 

“Shut up,” you smirked as you trailed kisses along his jaw before he pulled your lips back to his, both of your bodies calling each other’s names as you got lost in each other. 

He moves his big hands down to your ass, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Jump,” in between the kiss. You do as he says, jumping and wrapping your legs around his middle as he holds you tightly, walking towards the stairs and taking you straight to the bedroom, all without breaking the restless kiss.

A few minutes later, you’re both naked and lying on the bed as Joe spends a bit more time peppering kisses along your neck, your neediness getting more and more vocal as he refuses to do the thing you actually need him to do. 

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you felt his nose brush against your jaw while he sucked on a spot on your neck, your body squirming under his large frame.

“You can’t be mad at me like that and expect me to give you what you want so easily,” he smirks after he moves from your neck and looks into your eyes with mischievous intent. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed while tilting your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“Oh you will, all in due time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, then gently lifted you up in a tender embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Straight across from the mirror. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask him as he sets you in his lap, both of you facing the mirror.

“You see that, Y/N?” he asks as he points to you in the mirror. “That’s you,” he adds as he continues to look up and starts to press wet kisses around your shoulder. His hand snakes around your waist, rubbing your belly with his long fingers as they start to navigate down to your thigh. 

“I know,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side as his kisses get closer to your neck.

“You’re not invisible, baby,” he says as he plants kisses in a path up to your ear as his fingers move down to your core aching core. “You’re right here,” he whispers, a moan escaping your lips as you feel his fingers slide against your wet heat. 

“Joe,” you whimper tipping your head back and closing your eyes, the feeling of his hot body underneath you combined with the feeling of his long fingers at the place where you need him the most becoming too much for you.

“I see you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, the tip of his cold nose pressed against it. “I always see you, I always hear you. You’re not invisible,” he says before pressing a kiss to the corner of your ear, then pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. 

“Ah, Joe,” you moaned, feeling a jolt of pleasure rip through your body. Before you can move your head back forward to say something, you feel his fingers dip inside your core with no warning, earning another sound of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck,” you moaned as you practically melted into his embrace even more. 

His fingers begin to pump in and out of your core, more soft groans and whimpers falling from your lips as he drops slow, hot kisses around your face. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he rasps as he drops his head down to your shoulder again, spending more time cherishing that part of your body. 

The sensation of his skillful fingers stretching you out and filling you makes you want to forget about everything that happened. Joe always had the ability to make you forget your worries and tensions in an instant, but this might have been a new record. 

“Joe, please…I..,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his as your body begs for more.

"Hmm, it's not that easy, baby," he says with a smirk, his voice oozing with cockiness. You can sense the power he holds over you, and it's clear that he finds it entertaining. He is fully aware of the effect he has on you and revels in it. You hated that he could easily get you like this, but you loved it so fucking much. 

His fingers continue to thrust in and out of your core, his touch becoming hotter by the second as you feel yourself inch closer to your release. “You don’t sound like you’re mad at me,” he said as he used his other hand to push your head forward so that you were looking in the mirror again. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when you saw his captivating dark blue eyes at the same time as you felt his fingers hit the spot inside of you. “I…I’m so…mad at you,” you struggled to get out, a whimper squeezing in between your words. 

“Sure,” he chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, increasing the pace of his fingers.

You watched as his fingers disappeared in and out of your dripping heat, faint sounds of your wetness filling the room as you slowly moved your eyes back up to meet his. The look he had told you a number of things; he was horny as hell (just like you), he was enjoying seeing you struggle like this, and he was genuinely sorry about everything. 

The apologetic twinkle in his eyes produced a profound and intense emotion within you, igniting a powerful and overwhelming feeling. He was fully aware of his mistake and this was his way of expressing it to you. “Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your stomach tighten, your body gently trembling above him as you felt overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“Look at you, you’re right there, Y/N. Not hidden, not transparent, and certainly not fucking invisible. Especially not to me,” he whispered in your ear, his husky, raspy voice being the final thing you needed to tip right over the edge.

You feel an intense, deep, and warm feeling pool in your belly, you were so so so painfully close. But just to your surprise, Joe suddenly pulls his fingers out of your core, earning a dissatisfied shriek from your lips. “What the fuck, Joe,” you panted, your core pulsing at the tension that was still there, the tension you thought he’d release for you.  

“Told you,” he smirked as he looked into your eyes through the mirror. “Not easy,”, a soft kiss landing on your shoulder before you feel yourself being lifted up again, turned around, and pushed down to the bed a little roughly. 

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” you groaned at him a few seconds later, your eyes having that fire in them that he so desperately loved. 

“That’s your job, baby,” he winked as he kneeled down on the bed, hovering over you. “But, I’ll be nice for a little bit and help you out,”. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he smashes his lips against yours and rests the head of his hard cock at the entrance of your core. “You want me to give you attention? Here you go,” he mumbles a few seconds later with a cocky grin, and then you feel him push into you with a roughness that drove you wild.

“Ah, Joe,” a guttural moan escaping your lips as you scrunch your nose, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He was wasting no time with you, and you loved that. 

A jolt of pleasure rips through your body again as he starts to move inside of you, his movements so thorough and intense but rough at the same time. His hand firmly grasps your waist, communicating a sense of possession and intimacy, making it clear to you that you belong entirely to him. 

His body was telling you that you weren’t losing him, that you could never lose him. You could never lose him because he would never let you, he’d never let go of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he felt your hands travel to his hair, gently tugging on the strands as you rested your lips on his neck. He begins to snap his hips against yours hard, every thrust sending you further back into the bed and making you forget about everything that ever bothered you in your entire life. 

“Joe…fuck, I’m…,” you panted. “Fuck,” you trailed off.

“I know, baby. I know,” he smiled.

He continues to thrust into you and sets a pace that makes you feel like you’re practically flying through the clouds. It feels euphoric the way he knows exactly how to send your body to its pleasure, almost other-worldly. He was just so good at it. 

The way he was worshipping your body, basically fucking the anger out of you was something your brain couldn’t comprehend. He was the only person who was capable of doing this to you, getting you so frustrated, hot, and bothered, and then having you completely and utterly raw the next second–emotionally and physically. 

Joe was aware that your anger towards him and his recent behavior stemmed from genuine pain. He deeply regretted causing you this pain and slapped himself mentally, repeatedly, for making you feel invisible, even for a second. You were the center of his galaxy, and he needed you to know that you still were and nothing had changed. 

He moves his lips back to yours, capturing them in an intimate kiss that stifles your moans. The delicious feeling of his cock filling you up and his lips against yours is all you could have ever wanted. The way he was moving against you was creating a haze in your brain, almost like a lavender haze. 

The haze surrounded you, signaling that you were immersed in a love that consumed every part of you. 

Joe consumed every part of you. He was the lavender haze, and you wanted to stay in that haze for as long as humanly possible. 

Even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t stay mad at him. He loved you and you knew that, and now he was showing you that he did. This was his way of reassuring you that he was right here with you. 

“Baby,” he moaned, feeling himself get lost in the pleasure you were bringing him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

“Joe, my god,” you whimpered, feeling your already built-up release getting stronger again. “I’m so close,” you whined, feeling him somehow quicken his pace. You looked down at him, watching how he roughly pounded into your wet heat and how his muscular body was glowing in the soft light of your bedroom. 

“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re there,” he moaned in your ear before dropping his head to your neck. 

“Ah,” you whimper, feeling your body start to tremble again, you were just seconds away from letting go. 

One particular hard, well-placed thrust later, you were screaming his name as you pushed your head back into the pillow to brace yourself for your orgasm. You felt like a dam had just burst, and the pressure built against it was finally free. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body as Joe keeps hammering into you and each time you feel your high come down, it shoots right back up because of his movements. The feeling of your walls wrapping around him, squeezing and hugging his cock made him smile, almost as much as the sound of his name leaving your lips like a sacred chant. 

“Joe,” you whispered, feeling yourself finally come down from your peak. You looked down and saw that he was still moving inside of you, trying to reach his own peak. “Joe,” you said again as you threaded your hands into his hair and lifted his head, “Flip us,”. 

He looked at your glossed-over eyes with his tired ones, a dirty smirk forming on his lips at the idea of what you were asking him to do. “Okay,” he winked, wrapping his big hands around your torso and easily flipping you over all in one go. Despite how tired he was physically, he could never be too tired for you.

“He’s so fucking strong. Fucking hell,” you thought to yourself as you straddled his waist, taking in his tousled golden curls, his thick muscular chest which was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and then his large cock–which was practically calling for you. 

You grabbed his erection, guiding the tip between your drenched folds as you saw his face contort in pleasure and a hiss leaving his lips–he was close. You lifted your hips from his and sat up on your knees before lining up his cock with your core and sinking straight down onto it.  “Oh, fuck,” he moaned as he closed his eyes, his hands landing right on your ass with a light ‘slap’. 

You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs, sliding up and down his cock at the same pace he was pounding into you. “Yeah,” you whispered as you felt yourself feel a shock of pleasure coarse through your vein, just as Joe felt coursing inside of him. 

“Y/N, baby,” he groaned, “You feel so good, fuck,” he said while digging his head back into the pillow, having the time of his life watching you take over and ride him into oblivion. 

“I know,” you said to him with a cocky grin which made him raise his eyebrows again, the same way he did earlier. 

It was that same bratty, sexy, that made you think ‘get me pregnant right the fuck now’ eyebrow raise. 

“Fuck,” you moaned after you saw him raise his eyebrows and his cock hit that spot inside of you. 

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, feeling his ego shoot up because even though you were in ‘control’, he was still, actually in control. Especially over you, and it was so obvious. 

You continued to slide up and down his length, occasionally moving back and forth as his moans got louder and his grip on you got tighter. His eyes were fixated on your breasts that were bouncing up and down right in his view, his hands were stuck to your ass and were kneading your plush skin, and his hips were starting to thrust up into you. 

“I’m close, fuck,” he moaned as he felt your walls tighten around him–you were close too, again. 

“O- oh, fuck,” you whimpered while falling forward, your chest pressed against his. “Joe, you’re so fucking…,” you trailed off as a moan interrupted your sentence. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered against his swollen, plump lips.

“Y- yeah, me too,” he panted, snapping his hips into yours harder. A few seconds later, your bodies moved against each other in perfect harmony for the final time as both of your releases hit at the same time, both of you feeling like your breaths had just been taken away by the intensity of your orgasms. 

“Joe,” you screamed, feeling your high hit you again like a ton of bricks, stars filling your eyes as your second release soaked your lower halves as you felt Joe’s cock twitch inside of you.  

“Fuck, Y/N…oh my god,” he rasped as he shot hot spurts of cum inside your wet, hot cunt, slowly thrusting whatever came out back into your core. His hands were gripping your hips now, so incredibly tightly that you were sure they would leave a small bruise. You looked down and saw how his nose was scrunched up, how his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth, and how his eyes were filled with love, regret, and admiration towards you. 

A couple of minutes later, you were both lying next to each other, trying to catch your breath and make sense of everything that happened in the past hour or so. Joe turned his head to the side to look at you, taking note of how you were biting away at your bottom lip–something you did when you were anxious.

You were in fact anxious. Your argument was bad, and whatever happened on this bed was amazing, but where did it actually get you? Yeah, you were much calmer and in your senses (kind of?) for the most part, but you had hardly talked about the reason you two even got to this point. 

Joe, with a mix of feelings, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. He gently put his arm around your bare shoulder, pulling you close to his warm chest. Amid your overwhelming confusion, he became your safe haven even though he was the reason you were confused in the first place.

You felt the gentle touch of his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He then rested his mouth and nose against it, inhaling your natural fragrance. This simple act brought him a unique sense of comfort that no one else, not even his friends, could provide. It was this deep connection that made him realize the need to apologize to you. You were right, you were always right.

“Baby?” he asked you, causing you to look up at him with your tired eyes.

“Y- yeah?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from the activities you were partaking in just a few minutes ago. 

“I’m so, and I mean so fucking sorry for what I did,” he sighed. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel invisible or ignored this past month, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately, especially because you do so much for me, more than anyone ever has or ever will,” he sniffled, his eyes welling with tears. 

“Joe,” you pouted, moving your hand to cup his soft cheek and rubbing your thumb under his eye, seeing how glossy his eyes got all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I promise,”.

“It’s not, Y/N,” he said with another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I told you that you were the center of my galaxy, and you are. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t anymore, that’s so fucked up. I should’ve talked to you about all of this and shouldn’t have expected you to say something first. I was the one that needed to get myself straight and I’m so sorry that I let things get to this point,”.

You felt his hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on your back, providing a comforting and secure touch. In his arms, your worries and tensions seemed to melt away in two distinct ways: the intimacy you shared in the bedroom, and the reassuring feeling of his current actions.

“I just felt like I was losing you,” you admitted. “I was scared that we were drifting apart and I just-,”.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not losing me, baby. You’re never going to lose me,” he softly said as he moved his hands into your hair. “I’m not gonna let that happen, not now and not in 15 years when we’re middle-aged and have two kids running around and are arguing about who has to drive the kids to school the next morning,” he smiled.

A soft chuckle left your lips as you imagined what he was saying, an image of your promising future with Joe filled your mind–and it was oh-so sweet. “Obviously you. I need beauty sleep,” you chuckled. 

“Noted,” he smiled as he pulled you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him like glue. He opened his mouth to say something again, and the tone of his voice knew that what he was about to say could easily make you cry,  “I don't think I could find the right words to describe the depth of my love for you. What I feel for you overpowers any other emotion I've ever experienced. It's as if my soul has finally found its missing piece in you. I will choose you, again and again, without hesitation. No one else can make me feel the way you do. You mean everything to me. When I look at you, I see my life partner, my best friend, my everything. You have the unique ability to improve every aspect of my life–every laugh becomes brighter, and every tough day feels more manageable because you're there for me. You have given me a type of love that I never thought possible, and I'll forever treasure the way you've positively impacted my life. My love for you is something I'll wholeheartedly protect because no one else will ever have my heart the way you do. From the moment we met, I felt something unique about you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will. You're my heart, my soul, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No one else will ever come close to producing the feelings I have for you, and I'll always do everything in my power to ensure you feel as cherished and adored as you deserve.” he said while playing with your messy hair. 

You felt tears falling from your eyes after he finished talking, you didn’t even realize when you started crying, but you were. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he softly said as he leaned down and cleaned up your tears by placing kisses on each droplet. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his softness so adorable and genuine. 

“It’s okay, Joey,” you grinned, a few sniffles coming from your nose. “I’m crying because of how much I love you. What you said…that means a lot,”. 

“I mean it, Y/N. I’m genuinely so sorry for tonight, for this past month, for all of it. You are always number 1 for me and I need to show you that more from now on. I don’t deserve you at all, but I have you, and I won’t overlook something as valuable as you or not take advantage of the fact that you, this amazingly sweet, sexy, empathetic, down-to-earth, incredibly genuine, kindhearted, funny & sometimes slightly boring…” he started to say before you interrupted him.

“Ouch,” you giggled as you patted his chest, earning a soft chuckle from him.  

“...boring but unpredictable, loving, insanely beautiful, and charismatic girl has my heart in her hands,” he finished saying. “I love you, Y/N. I need to do better for you, and from this moment on I will. You deserve to be loved with 150% effort and I’m going to make sure you do. The guys can wait. I’ve spent enough time with them for them to go a couple of weeks, even months without seeing me. It’s you and me now and forever,” he said to you, his soft, loving eyes acting as a mirror to his soul–which showed his genuine and raw intentions and were exactly as he was describing to you. 

“I love you, Joe,” you smiled as you felt him brush his lips against your lips before planting a deep, passionate kiss to them. 

“Time to get things back on track,” he said a few seconds later, sitting up on the bed and bringing you with him. “It’s too late for our dinner reservation but I’m going to get it shifted to tomorrow. Tonight we’re going to the banks for some stargazing and a late-night picnic. We can pick up some pizza and ice cream from that place by the stadium on our way,” he nodded, talking you through the plan as if he had thought about this deeply, but he didn’t. He was coming up with all this on the fly. “Then tomorrow morning after we wake up, we can go on a little hike in that part by my parent’s house in Athens. It’ll be a drive but we can hike around there since it’s so pretty this time of the year and see my parents, maybe even get lunch with them at our favorite cafe over there before heading back home for dinner tomorrow night. On Sunday, it’s a full lazy day inside. We’re going to stay in our pajamas all day, do a Twilight movie marathon because I remember you saying you want me to watch them with you, order food to the house for lunch and dinner, maybe even bake some cookies or something, and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Preferably with no clothes,” he grinned. 

You were left speechless as you looked at him, impressed by how effortlessly he had drafted these plans without considering his own weekend schedule. The sight of him thinking on the spot filled you with affection, and your heart swelled with a mix of emotions. 

You leap forward and wrap your arms around his neck as you smother his face with gentle kisses, “I loveeeeee youuuuuuuuu,” you giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist and hearing his soft chuckles in your ear. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re the shining force at the center of my galaxy, the light that everything else revolves around. Like the planets drawn to their sun, my life is pulled by your existence, and I know that for us to thrive, our orbit needs to be steady. Every moment with you is a delicate balance of love, trust, and effort–each one keeping us aligned, making sure our world doesn’t drift apart. I’ll protect that balance, making sure that no matter what forces try to interfere, we stay on track, always revolving around the core of what we’ve built together," he says to you, his heartfelt words, his embrace, the genuine look in his eyes all making you fall deeper in love with him.

"This is why I like you so much," you grin as you meet his baby blues, answering his question from earlier.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, licking his lips as he uses his hand to move his hair back.

"I like you because you're the most thoughtful, raw, incredibly well-spoken, smartest, nerdiest, most adorable and manly, genuine person I've ever met in my entire existence. You make me mad sometimes, but you also know exactly how to fix what you did and make everything even better than it was before. You're always making an effort to fix things. Yeah, you can be a dick, asshole, and oblivious idiot sometimes...,".

"Hey!" he gasps, acting like he was offended over what you said.

"But you're my obvious idiot and I love you for everything you are. You love me, like really love me and I know that and you never fail to make me know that. Also because you're like super sexy and I can't get enough of you and that damn eyebrow raise," you giggled.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, giving you that eyebrow raise again.

"Do that again and we're staying in this bed the rest of the night," you smiled at him and said. "I might even end up pregnant by the end of it,".

Joe was stunned at your words, "Damn, so you really like that," he slowly nodded with a smirk.

"Really may be an understatement. Just know that you don't want to be inside my brain whenever you do that eyebrow raise," you winked. "I don't think we have enough anti-horny spray to get rid of the thoughts in my head,".

"Being perpetually horny is good for the soul, babe. Embrace it," Joe smiled as he leaned in and slowly kissed you in a way that made your toes curl and your body light on fire.

He fell back down against the pillows and brought you down with him. "Joe," you said in between the kiss, "We have to go," you smiled.

"Another round won't hurt," he said while giving you the eyebrow raise again, now knowing what it did to you.

You rolled your eyes, "Fuck, you're going to use that every damn time from now on, aren't you?".

"Maaaybe," he grinned as he brought you back down to his soft lips.

–The End–

[moviestarmartini]

yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader

él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.

summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?

wc: 975

warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.

A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The fight was stupid, really. 

You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 

After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 

Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 

If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 

You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 

For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 

You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 

To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 

“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 

That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 

Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.

And you wondered if you would ever be again. 

The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 

Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 

[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 

[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 

You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 

“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 

He hadn’t even read it. 

Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 

You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 

Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 

Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 

“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 

“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 

“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 

“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 

“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 

“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 

“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 

Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.

A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

[pricegouge]

cw: fat femme reader. shitty tinder dates. alcohol mentioned but not consumed. that's it. written on my lunch break and unedited so mind the mess

divider by @/cafekitsune | taglist @pricegouged

You're on your second drink when you swear off dating apps altogether. 

Dylan - fine, normal, everyday, run-of-the-mill Dylan - had exposed himself fairly early as too fine and normal, and therefore boring, which wouldn't have been too big a problem if he hadn't also been leaning further and further into the asshole category with each passing minute.

The snide little comment about your weight would be enough to send you packing early under any normal circumstances, except you'd been an idiot who'd let him pick you up so you needed a ride home, and why pay for an Uber when you can be mean right back?

It takes you a moment to arrive at that conclusion, though, stopping mid sip of your water to arch your eyebrows at this pathetic little thing before you with enough force to have him backpedaling. You watch him flounder for a moment, considering your options, not listening at all as he tries to clarify that he's 'into it, though - big girls, that is'.

You roll your eyes away from him, pretend to watch the highlight reel of last night's match from where it plays on the outdated CRT in the corner. It's not even a good place for a date, really, a self-serve popcorn machine in the corner offering pre-fingered snacks and a low liquor shelf behind the bar suggesting you'd best be thirsty for something with no more than three ingredients. You're not exactly the snooty type, but you suddenly realize you should maybe learn to know your worth better because you cannot ever sit across the table from someone who's read The Game ever again. One more time might kill you, funeral expenses legally billable to Neil Strauss and everything. 

Except your new standards will have to be enacted in the morning because you suddenly refuse to spend a fucking dime on this terrible outing.

Dylan still looks slightly panicked when you turn back to him with a shy little affected smile and a demure batting of your eyelashes. You watch in real time as his expression shifts from pure panic at a gamble ventured and lost, to surprised delight when he thinks it's paying off. You let him keep thinking that, draw quiet and reserved the more dinner draws on though jokes on you there, because that just means you have to hear him talk more and it's a struggle to pretend you don't find the damn coasters more interesting than him at this point. 

(They're cardboard and growing waterlogged from condensation, the local brewery's logo becoming easily peelable. It's become your mission to get a clean pull by the end of his long winded ramble, though he's so invested in hearing himself talk that you surpass your goal twice, peeling both the front and back off the coaster and sticking the limp paper to your glass, pressing out air bubbles with your fingers like you're carefully applying proper labeling. He doesn't stop talking until your glass is labeled front and back, real professional.)

When he asks if you're ready to go you perk up like a dog hearing its favorite word. You wanna go for a ride? Hm? You ready to go home, girl? Your nod is bobble-headed, eager. You let him misread it because you're an asshole and because you did say in your profile that you weren't looking for hookups so really it's his own fault if he blue balls himself. 

The ride back is short, easy. You don't know if it's better or worse that he doesn't bother flirting with you here or test your expectations with a cheeky little hand on your thigh. Instead, his grip remains carefully at ten and two and you're grateful he's not touching you, really, but you know what he expects from you in a matter of mere moments, hours, whatever, and it pisses you off that he doesn't even bother warming you up to the idea by grabbing a feel of those 'big thighs' he's 'into.' So you let yourself stew, fuel for the fire, and you fiddle with his heat controls just because you can. 

If he was so dead set on ending this night all hot and wet, you could help him with that at least.

Sweat beads at Dylan's temple when he pulls into the intricate webbing of drives which make up your apartment complex. It's a nice enough place, one you can only afford with the help of one too many roommates. The steep rent is worth it though for nights like tonight, when apprehension begins to pool in your belly as you try to steel yourself for the small confrontation you're about to initiate. Dylan may have been a little weasel but he wasn't exactly contentious so you're not expecting anything too major to come of this, but it's reassuring to see so many people still out and about enjoying the cool fall evening. It's still fairly early, mothers only just heading back from the park with their double wide buggies taking up half the drive. They shoot Dylan ugly looks as he passes, just a hair too fast for their unofficial neighborhood watch. At least you know they'll be on your side if he really starts to act up.

Dylan does not need reminding which specific branches lead to your building, rolling to a stop next to your own car which you try not to look at with any familiarity. You may have already made the mistake of giving him your address, but every morsel of information he might glean about you now feels like a theft, and even what you had for breakfast is suddenly a dark secret you'd like to keep from him for no real reason. 

It's hard looking at Dylan now too, the shyness you'd been playing up before all of a sudden a very real obstacle as your eyes wander your building's facade, as if even you aren't certain which bay window is yours. Your lights are all off, you note with some annoyance, your roommates not home despite the fact they said they would be. 

'Up all night waiting for you,' Carren had winked, her big cheeky smile something you've never had cause to mistrust before. You gotta work on your naivete. 

Your eyes keep moving, resolved not to give away even your apartment number by being too obvious. They catch on the patio next door, however, when you spot your neighbor Kyle sitting on his Adirondack chair, smoking a cigarette as he watches this new car pointedly, doing nothing to hide his curiosity. 

If you had been smart you would've told Dylan to pick you up a few buildings down so he wouldn't even have the proper section, but the relief you feel at seeing your sweet, hot, extremely fit neighbor outside playing guard dog more than makes up for your mistake. So much so that your fingers don't falter when they find the handle, emergency release ready to be disengaged. You turn back to Dylan with a too-sweet smile and thank him for dinner again, already leaning out the door when he stutters something about having a good time.

"Yeah, me too," you call over your shoulder, beelining it for Kyle's patio because you've had enough drinks in that vacant chair across from him to know you're always welcome, especially in a situation like this. Sure enough, Kyle perks up when he sees it's you climbing out of the strange car, and then furrows his brow over your shoulder when you hear Dylan climbing out after you. Some snivelly little creature you've been trying to kill since you turned eighteen holds the reins when you turn back to him despite your better instincts, your need to avoid a scene outweighing everything else in that moment.

Your date's facade is visibly crumbling now, his frustration obvious in the set of his jaw and the sweat at his temples. You wonder if perhaps the thermostat had been a bit much and then immediately decide you don't care when he stammers something about maybe coming in for a glass of something nicer than what the restaurant had to offer. 

Presumptuous. "I don't," you blurt, only continuing when he blinks at you in confusion, "drink anything nice, that is." Across the lawn, you think you hear Kyle snort.

"Uh… coffee?" Dylan asks, just as stubborn as you.

"Gave up caffeine," you lie, trying not to think about the lovely mocha creation Kyle will likely offer you momentarily when you tell him you've got a splitting headache.

To his credit, Dylan doesn't quite pout. "Right. Well. Do this again sometime?"

And you're already on a roll with the lies so you just carry right on with them, chirping out a high, "Sure!" before trying to turn on your heel.

But you're out of niceties when a firm grip on your shoulder keeps you in place, Dylan's scraggly mustache looming into your space as you watch his lips pucker in horror. 

"Oh I'm good, thanks!" you squeak, yanking yourself out of his grip. A laugh bubbles out of you afterward, uncomfortable but still amused by your own reaction. Your satisfaction only grows when Dylan begins to look genuinely pissy. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid but you're past the point of caring.

"Is that it, then?" Dylan huffs, taking a daring step forward. 

You slide back, lock step. "'Fraid so."

"Even after I bought you dinner?"

"And made me feel bad about eating it?" You scoff. "Yeah."

"I drove all the way out from -."

"What's all this?"

You're not sure who jumps more at Kyle's sudden appearance. He hovers by your shoulder, a silent type of fury pulling at his pretty face. You forget sometimes he's military, his general geniality always setting you at ease. It makes this new version of him all the more frightening, a lethal force sitting pretty at your side. 

This is what makes the rent worth it, honestly.

"Kyle, this is Dylan. My date for the night."

Kyle hums, clearly unconcerned with the specifics. "Well, night's over."

You smirk up at where the sun still lingers over the horizon, pale behind its cloudy cover but present all the same. "Indeed."

"Piss off, mate," Dylan tries, his voice sterner than you'd originally given him credit for. 

You raise your brow at him but Kyle doesn't even bother. He turns to you and smiles, eyes crinkling around the corners, much too tight to be natural. "Luvie, will you go get us some drinks? Sliding door's unlocked."

Part of you rankles at the dismissal, but a bigger part of you does indeed want to be done with this horrible man so you nod, wave a sarcastic two finger salute at Dylan and finally make your way back across the lawn, slipping into Kyle's warm and cozy apartment with a sigh of relief. 

For all the friendly patio drinks you've had with him since moving in, you've never actually stepped foot in Kyle's place. You take a moment to admire it, noting the cleanliness and a tidiness which undeniably spoke of a military career. Still, small concessions to his personality dotted the walls and surfaces. A fresh laundry scented candle, a stack of blu-rays, framed pictures of people you've never met all grinning happily. You spot Kyle's same smile reflected back at you from all these different faces, his entire family evidently blessed with that thousand watt grin and you wonder how one camera could sustain all those lumens being beamed at it.

The layout matches yours, simply reflected. You find the kitchen easily, again noting the cleanliness with a nod of approval. Someday he'd retire and settle down, make someone extremely happy. You could only hope you would be long gone by then because the jealousy might truly drive you to desperate measures. Like taking Tinder back up again, for example. The notion draws you to the kitchen window, quest for beverages all but forgotten when you see Kyle leaning over Dylan's shoulder as the latter man flips through his phone. You frown in confusion, drawing closer to the window as Kyle reaches out and starts poking around your date's phone on his own. It's cracked open, crisp fall breeze whistling through. It drowns out the noise of the conversation but you try anyway, ears straining for any word whispered between the two. A moment passes, another. Dylan becomes increasingly agitated while Kyle stays the picture of controlled severity. You don't hear either of them at all until Kyle's eyes dart to the apartment, finding yours instantly. You gulp, feeling as if you've been caught despite not actually doing anything wrong anyway, and suddenly Kyle's veneer breaks like a thunder cloud. He claps Dylan on the shoulder heavily, turning his beaming smile on the smaller man and calling him a good lad.

Dylan mutters something indiscernible and turns back towards his car, resolutely ignoring as Kyle calls out overly friendly farewells. The engine rips to life, a low growl which suggests it's in dire need of an oil change. Still, it bravely fires up and carries Dylan away, Kyle turning back to you with a roll of his eyes which seemed to say 'this fuckin' guy.'

You grin at him, rolling your eyes right back before ducking your head, suddenly bashful under your neighbor's full attention. Drinks forgotten, you meet him at the door and thank him profusely, ignoring the way he tries to wave it off as if it was nothing,

"No, seriously, Kyle, that was very much appreciated. Probably not necessary but appreciated anyway. Please let me know if there's ever a way I can make it up to you."

And now Kyle's smirk is salacious. Great. "Well, you can join me for that drink I requested to start," he laughs, waving you back into his apartment. "Then you can tell me what you were doing on a date with a guy like that."

"Hm," you hum, already given in but thinking of how you can get what you want out of him first. Your scheming has already worked out so well for you tonight, after all. "Sure, but first you gotta tell me what you were doing on his phone."

He doesn't even miss a beat. "No can do. Top secret stuff."

"Oh," you scoff, allowing yourself to be corralled toward the couch. It's surprisingly soft, instantly cocooning you the moment you slump into it. A woven blanket hangs over the back of it which you wonder if Kyle would mind you using, if he'd get a kick out of returning from the kitchen to find you curled up like you owned the place. Probably, he wouldn't because he's much too nice to you always. "Potential terrorist threat was he?"

"He did fit the profile," Kyle calls back from the kitchen. 

You laugh, decide if he's allowed to call your date a terrorist then you're definitely allowed to use his blanket. His fault for leaving the window open on such a cold day. As expected, Kyle seems completely unbothered when he returns moments later, your favorite mocha monstrosity in one hand and his standard plain, sweetened coffee in the other. He holds your drink out of your reach teasingly however until you admit you'd met Dylan on a dating app and he tuts, relenting your drink to you almost as an apology for what you've had to go through.

"Why are you even on those things?" he asks, slurping at his coffee noisily. It's a funny habit of his, one he somehow manages to make endearing. 

Though, looking like that, you imagine he could probably make booger picking endearing.

"Well, Kyle, some of us aren't quite as naturally charming as you."

He smirks, doesn't bother to deny it. Cocky asshole. "Don't sell yourself short, I'm sure plenty of men would love to have their blankets stolen by you." He winks, hand reaching out to pluck at the weave which drapes over your shoulder. His hand lingers there, warm even through the layers, and your laugh dies in your throat, comes out as a strangled scoff.

"Well. Keep it a little warmer in here and your guests wouldn't have to make themselves at home uninvited."

Kyle's smile is softer this time, dangerously handsome. "You're always invited, pet."

And try as you might to be witty, you can't quite come up with a response to that. Kyle doesn't seem to need one, though, slurping at his coffee as he settles in, far too close. The hand which had been at your shoulder settles lower, palm warm where he kneads at your thick thigh experimentally. You'd laugh at the irony if your brain wasn't too busy turning somersaults trying to make sense of what's happening. Surely your neighbor Kyle - sexy, sharp, nice Kyle - isn't coming onto you.

Right?

But then he's leaning forward and placing his mug on the table, his thick fingers guiding your own mug to your mouth for a quick, stunned sip before pulling it away again and placing it next to his own. He's facing you now, full on, his big dark eyes gleaming with mischief. 

"I was making him delete all your contact info. Earlier. And then I made him deactivate his account," Kyle laughs, an infectious thing which gets you giggling too.

"Not willing to subject other girls to him?"

"I don't take chances," Kyle confirms, voice solemn as a vow. "But what about you, pet? What do I gotta do to convince you to delete yours?"

Given you'd already planned on deleting it, you should really just tell him you've already learned your lesson and there's no need to do anything at all. But your scheming has only yielded a fifty percent success rate tonight and you'd rather go for broke than break even so you just smile, wondering if Kyle saw your no-hookups stipulation on your profile before making Dylan unmatch earlier. 

You hope not.

"I don't know, it might take a lot of convincing."

[avastrasposts]

Memories made, memories lost

Plot: Before Pero Tovar and his friend William Garin set out in search of black powder, he found himself doing something he never thought he would - falling in love. But what waits for him as he returns from his adventure after all this time?

Mercenary!Pero x female reader

Warnings: Angst and grief, loss of virginity (it's all consensual and it's not the main trope of the fic), explicit smut. No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate.

Word count: 7.9k

This is written for @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Wiriting Challenge where I requested a trope for Pero Tovar and got Amnesia A big thank you to @i-own-loki for the lovely banner! What would I do without my Canva Pro friends!?

Marriage was not something that was ever on the cards for Pero Tovar. 

He left his hometown while he was still a young boy, and after that he never stayed long enough in one place to put down roots. Let alone find a woman who would want to throw her lot in with a mostly penniless mercenary soldier who relied on powerful lords always finding a new enemy to fight. Who would want a scarred battle dog with a permanent scowl and dangerous look to his appearance? And even if someone did, how could he care for a wife? A family? He moved from town to town, from country to country, seldom returning to the same place twice unless the pay was very good. 

But then, one autumn in southern England, when the fighting season was over and the mud was too thick for both men and horses to march in, something changed. He was no longer young but in his fighting prime, hardened, and hard, by years of fighting other men’s wars. He had no other plans than to spend the winter in this small English town with his friend William Garin, wait for spring and the call to arms for another war or rebellion or crusade. He was going to fill his belly, hone his weapons, train the younger men and spend his evenings with a whore or two, and that was it. 

Marriage was not on the cards. 

But fate wanted a different path for him. And you quite literally fell into his arms as you tumbled from your horse on the outskirts of the small town. 

“Curse that nag!” you yelled crossly, struggling to free yourself from his strong grip, “let go, I can stand on my own legs!” You pushed at his chest as the dark haired man let go of your waist, stepping back with a chuckle. 

“And what fine legs they are,” he said, his grin wide.  

You sneered at his comment, “Too fine for you either way.” 

You glared at him as you brushed your dress, “I should thank you, I guess. You saved me from a much greater fall, that stupid mare is spooked by the smallest twig and throws me twice a week at least.” 

With a sigh you looked at your horse who’d decided that the twig wasn’t an immediate threat and had begun to graze the last of the summer grass just a little while down the country lane. 

“If that’s the case, you best go and claim your horse before she decides one of farmer Ned’s cows has fangs and means to eat her,” Pero chuckled. He liked your spirit, and the way your eyes blazed as you glanced at him. 

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” you said with a shake of your head, “I best be off, thank you again, sir.”

Tovar gave a small nod and crooked smile at your retreating back. 

Later that evening, as he’d eaten and gone back to the room he shared with William, he wondered why the chance meeting on the country lane wouldn’t leave his head. He felt as if he might’ve been bewitched, one moment walking down the country lane on his way out to the smithy for a repair of his armour, the next he had a woman in his arms as her bay horse bolted down the road. You’d smelled of apples, a rich, sweet scent clinging to your hair as it brushed over his face when you both landed in the dust. The soft yield of your flesh under the rough linen dress, it was as if he’d put his hands on the softest down pillow, he’d wanted to grab hold of it and not let go. 

As you rushed away from him, scolding your skittish horse, he’d watched the way your hips swayed with each step, bright hair bouncing with frustration. You gripped the horse’s bridle and pulled it around, even at a distance he could see the way your nose crinkled in annoyance as you berated the poor animal. When your anger trickled out as quickly as it flared up, your face softened and you gently stroked the animal’s nose, giving its neck a pat before swinging yourself up into the saddle again. You caught him staring and gave him a quick smile, before turning again and nudging the horse into a slow trot. 

He’d made his way to the smithy and then back to the rooms he and William had rented for the winter. And when he laid down on his bed, the vision of you filled his head, soft curves, sweet smile, quick temper and a sharp tongue. He would very much like to see you again, be that close to you again.   

The next day was a Sunday and he joined William at the church for mass with the rest of the village. He let the familiar Latin incantations wash over him, the rituals the same here as in his hometown as it was in every other town he’d ever visited, irrespective of the country or the ruler. The power radiated from Rome and although the churches looked different, the rituals were the same and it brought a strange, albeit dull, comfort to him. 

When mass was over the congregation filtered out of the church, slow in leaving, catching up with neighbours and sharing gossip. Pero tried to scan the crowd surreptitiously but William caught his wandering eye. 

“Who are you looking for? The mysterious horse woman?” he asked, looking around at the villagers and the mercenaries who were wintering here just as they were. Pero had told him of the encounter, not being able to hide how you’d remained on his mind as he returned to the rooms. 

“I don’t remember seeing her here before,” Pero replied, trying to appear unphased, uncaring, as he continued to scan the open space in front of the church, but without success. When he couldn’t see her, he followed William back to their lodgings. The Lord’s day should be spent in rest and was not wise to anger the local priest. 

But Pero found himself too restless to sit still, fiddling with a troublesome chainmail. He left William to it and ventured outside instead, vying to find a secluded spot in the woods to get some practice in without being scolded by someone spotting him working on a Sunday. 

The autumn forest was golden, the air crisp and clear as the sky stretched endlessly blue above the trees as Pero wandered further in than he meant to. It felt good to be away from people, from the crowded town and the small rooms he shares with William. 

The clank of metal on wood reached his ears and he furrowed his brows, no one would be out here felling trees on a Sunday unless there was some strange business. He moved silently through the underbrush towards the sound, and came upon a clearing, drawing breath at the sight in front of him. You had stripped down to just your slip and a pair of men’s breeches, your arms bare and glistening with sweat as you raised the heavy sword and parried an imagined attack, and hit the thick beech trunk. The sword lodged in the wood and with a grunt you pulled it free, backing up a few steps and repeating the exercise. 

Pero watched you for a few minutes, your technique was good, someone has clearly taught you the basics, but the sword was too heavy for you. 

“You have some skills with that sword, señorita,” he called, just as you dropped your arm, letting the sword hang by your side as you took a deep breath. 

His voice made you jump and swing around, the sword quickly raised. 

“Do not worry, I mean you no harm,” he said, walking towards you with both his arms raised, “We’ve met before, with your troublesome mare.” 

“I remember,” you answered, the tone of your voice betraying your wariness as his sudden appearance, “What are you doing here?” 

“The same as you, señorita, I think,” he replied, “seeking a place away from unwelcome eyes to hone my skill on a Sunday.” 

Unclipping his cloak and satchel and placing them on a log near the edge of the clearing, he then turned and nodded at the sword in your hand. 

“You have some skill, but the sword is too heavy for you.” 

“What do you care?” you snapped at him, the sword still lifted as he approached. 

“I train the younger soldiers, when a sword is too heavy for the user, the technique suffers. And I hate to see a bad swordsman. Or woman.” 

With a fluid movement he pulled both of his swords from his back, the left one spinning in his hand, the handle held out towards you. 

“Let me show you, borrow my sword, it’s more lightweight.”

You regarded him with suspicion, not lowering your own sword. 

“Why do you want to help me?” 

“Why do I want to help a woman become a better fighter?” he countered, still holding out the sword to you, “Because those without swords can still die upon them. I learned that a long time ago. So better the women know how to fight too.” 

You regarded him with caution, the dark haired, dark eyed man with a strange accent and a menacing scar across his eye. But something in his face, the way he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, encouraging you to take the sword he was still holding out to you, made your trepidation waver. Slowly you sheathed your own sword, and grabbed the handle of his. He gave you a crooked smile and a quick nod. 

“Good. Now show me what you can do.” 

With a quick movement he brought up his own sword and attacked, and you just about parried in time, the two swords ringing out through the empty forest as they met. 

Marriage was not something that was ever on the cards for him. But sometimes fate wills it differently. 

And before that Sunday afternoon in the forest, you’d never considered marrying someone either. At least not for any other reason than your father telling you that a man was needed to run the farm when he was gone. But the dark haired Spaniard with the scowling face, menacing and imposing, he was the one who made you see that marrying didn’t mean settling for one of the local boys. 

His dark eyes glittered with mischief as he taunted your sword skills, easily smacking your arm with the flat side of his blade as you failed to anticipate his next move in the early days of your training. But it was the way he smiled with pride when you managed to disarm him and put your blade to his neck, that smile made your heart melt. He was proud of you for a skill any other man you knew would shame you for, even attempt to lock you up for. It was like taking a deep breath of air for the first time, the way he treated you like an equal in a way no ever had before. 

It was mesmerising how a hardened soldier with such a menacing scowl could transform into the most handsome man you’d ever seen. It stunned you, and locked you in place, the first time you stood toe to toe with him, his back against a thick oak, your sword resting against his neck. Surprise flashed across his face first, then he smiled, his eyes shifting from the hard concentration of battle to soft warmth as his lips pulled up in a proud grin. 

“I knew there was a warrior in you,” he said, holding his sword arm up in defeat as you pulled the blade away from his neck, “with my training, you’ll beat almost any man.” 

“Almost any man?” you replied, your eyebrows lifting as you moved your hand and rested the blade against his neck again. 

Pero chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked down on you, glancing down his sharp nose as you made him tilt his head back again. 

“Any man, guerrera,” he smiled and again the pride in his voice made warmth and elation shoot through your body. 

Sweat was dripping from his forehead, you could feel the heat of him against you, the rise and fall of his chest, your own short breaths against him as an errant drop slipped over his lips and his tongue came out to catch it. Your eyes drifted to the pink tip as he licked his bottom lip, watching it disappear into his mouth again. When you looked up, his smile was gone, replaced by something more hungry, his eyes darker as they seemed to study your face. There was no need for you to be so close to him still, the fight over. But as he brought his hand up and carefully pushed your sword away from his neck, you only let your hand drop, not stepping back. You felt rooted to the spot with his eyes on you, the warmth of his body like a magnet to your own. 

“Señorita…” he almost growled, a half whisper from the back of his throat, as he slowly leaned closer, his eyes moving to your lips before his gaze fell on you again. Dark and warm, it was like being pulled in by the last of the dying embers of a fire. Pero glowed and burned hot under your palm as you put your hands on his neck and pulled him to you, your sword falling to the floor of the forest with a soft clatter. 

He wouldn’t let you go, and you clung to him just as eagerly, the dry leaves rustling as you pulled him down, he rolled you over, caging you in under his strong arms.

“Señorita…” he growled again, it was all he could press out before your lips found his, soft, pliant and sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, addictive in the way they felt against his mouth, his jaw, his cheeks as you found new places to kiss him, your fingers winding through his hair, keeping him locked in place against your lips, taking as much as you wanted from him and he never once stopped you. 

He was lost. So utterly lost. And he’d never felt more at home. 

You plucked last year’s leaves from your hair and cloak all the way home that day. Pero followed you to the edge of the forest as always. But this time you pulled him behind a tree and made him press his hard body against you, pinning you against the trunk. The way he groaned into your kisses made your body heat up, your need for him growing with every slow roll of his hips, hands roaming to feel as much of him as you could, his hands kneading your hips and caressing your curves.

If your lips were swollen and your hair dishevelled, your father said nothing of it when you came home. When Pero came by one Sunday after church and asked permission to marry his daughter, he wasn’t surprised. 

There had been no war or rebellion to pull Pero away from you that year. William left, serviced under a local lord, but Pero stayed and put what little money he had left into buying the small farm next to your father’s. When the time came, the two could be merged and provide a good life for the two of you and any children that followed. When the small cottage was his by law, only then did he go to your father, who said yes without hesitation to the large Spaniard. 

“As if I could deny you the man you’ve clearly set your eyes on, even if he wasn’t a great, big hulking warrior,” your father had said later that same night after Pero had left, “With him in your house, I know you’ll be safer than with me. And if you truly love him too, well then I have no objections.” 

“I really do love him, with all his scowls and menacing looks, he is a very good man underneath it all, father.” 

There had been strange looks from the villagers, but that had hardly mattered. You’d always gone your own way, and marrying a dark haired outsider with a thick accent seemed to be something that the gossiping wives had expected of you. Either way, when you exchanged your vows outside the church on the intended day, you were surrounded by smiling faces, the old priest beaming down at you as you entered the church with Pero by your side to be blessed by by God.  

The feast lasted most of the day but by the late afternoon, you both left your father’s farm and was escorted by the priest, William and a few other villagers, to your new home, the cottage that Pero had worked so hard to turn into a home for you both. His first home since he left the place he was born, and now the place where he intended to live out the rest of his life as a happy man. When the marital bed had been blessed too, Pero closed the door to the cottage and you were alone as husband and wife for the first time. 

“Come here, husband,” you smiled at him as he turned back from the door. You didn’t need to beckon him, nothing would keep him away from you tonight, but you liked the sound of his new title - husband.

“Mi esposa,” he grinned as he crowded you against the sturdy oak bed he’d built with the aid of the local carpenter, “my wife, finally.” 

His eyes went soft, his mischievous grin replaced by a tender look as he cupped your face with his warm palms, “Never in my life did I think I’d call someone ‘my wife’, I never thought this was the way my life would be, and then I found you,” he ran his thumbs over your cheeks, leaning his forehead against yours as your breaths mingled, ”Te amo, mi amor,” he whispered. 

“I love you too, Pero,” you whispered back, your fingers finding his soft curls as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Gently he pushed you backwards, making you lay down on the bed, your bed, as he moved to cage you in under his arms and wide shoulders. Many training sessions in the forest had ended this way, time slipping away as you kissed each other breathless, but it had never gone further. You’d feel the thick weight of him pressed against your thighs, felt how he sometimes rolled his hips to seek a brief relief, but he'd always pull back.

“Amor, I won’t take you on the forest floor,” he’d muttered when you asked him to stop caring so much about your virtue, “I want you in a bed, our bed, when I’m your husband and you’re my wife.”

Now here you were, in your bed, and you called him husband as he slowly removed all your layers, caressing every sliver of skin that was revealed to him. He pressed kisses to your soft breasts, moaning as he felt them pebble under his touch, his strong nose trailed across the downy hairs of your belly, and when you giggled at the way his beard tickled, he nipped at the warm skin of your thighs. The thick slide of his tongue through your heated centre made you arch your back and gasp, your fingers scrambling for purchase in his hair. You could hear him chuckle against you, the tip of his nose circling the epicentre of your pleasure, he seemed to know this part of your body better than yourself and he soon had you moaning his name as you fought to catch your breath. 

When he had you drenched and dripping, he rested his head on your soft thigh and tapped your leg. 

“Amor, look at me,” he invited. Through half closed lids, clouded with pleasure, you watched him slide a finger through your liquid, coating it before he slowly pushed in. It slipped in easily, and when he curled it, caressing your insides, your eyes fell closed of their own volition. Suddenly you wanted more, more of his fingers, more of him and you whined, your hips rolling over his finger. 

“Please, Pero…” you whimpered, your voice hoarse and pleading. 

“What do you want, esposa,” he asked as he moved his finger gently back and forth, making you gasp again. 

“More…I think…more…” you mumbled and Pero smiled. Seeing you fall apart for him, slowly showing you how good he could make you feel, how he intended to spend every long winter evening, it filled him with a happiness he’d never felt before. It was like a hot burning fire inside his chest and it would keep him warm when he had to leave, he knew these memories would be the ones he returned to on long cold nights alone. 

“More?” he asked, “I can give you more, amor.” 

The smile in his voice made you look up at him as he moved to lie at your side, putting his arm under your shoulders and finding your lips with his own. As his tongue slipped inside your mouth, he gently pushed a second finger into your heat. He felt you arch up against him, whimpering into his mouth, your fingers digging into his arms as he slid his own in and out, setting your body on fire with every slow drag. 

He moved so slowly, it was like your body was turning into molten metal, heat flowed through you, all coming from where Pero’s fingers sunk into you. Your hips rolled of their own accord, your core clenching hard around him and a tension was building up inside you. But just as you felt as if you were about to snap, like a thread pulled too tight, Pero slipped his fingers from you and caressed your side, his hand leaving a sticky trail on your skin.

“Amor,” he mumbled, moving over your body so that he once again was caging you in, his warm, dark eyes glowing as he looked down at you, “Amor, I’m going to enter you now, tell me to stop if it hurts, you are so tight.”

You nodded and made room for him between your legs, you knew this might hurt, you’d heard the wives talk and the gossip. But no one had ever mentioned it feeling this good to be with a man, this aching need to be filled up by him. It had you panting with impatience, your core clenching around the emptiness left behind by his fingers. 

Pero kept his eyes locked on you as he coated himself with your silky liquid and lined himself up. Your brows furrowed as he pushed the thick head inside, and he dropped his forehead to yours, taking a deep breath. 

“Does it hurt?” he whispered, slowly rocking himself back and forth, just the tip moving inside you, and you shook your head. 

“No, it was just a little tight, I want more,” you replied, spreading your legs wider for him. He reached down and hooked your leg over his hip. 

“Squeeze me, pull me in if you want more,” he said, gritting his teeth as he felt your contract around him, fighting the urge to push in harder, “you feel so good, amor, so good to me.” 

Your legs wrapped around his waist and Pero rocked slowly, pushing in deeper with each short thrust. His face was pinched with concentration, his mouth half open as he licked his lips. With your arms wrapped around his neck, his forehead against yours, each breath you took was his and your world shrunk down to only Pero. Only his warm body above yours, his hips heavy between your legs, driving himself into you and creating ripples of pleasure through every fibre of your being with each thrust deep inside. Your eyes wanted to close but you forced them to stay open, to see your husband as he looked at you, his eyes hazy with lust, dark and burning, every movement making him groan as your body pulled him in. The tight string started to pull taught inside you again, your body moving against Pero’s, making him pick up his pace. 

“Amor, can you feel that?” he mumbled, his forehead still resting against yours, “can you feel your body getting ready to fall?” 

You nodded, it felt like a lightning storm ready to break, just over the horizon. Tightening your grip around his waist, you pulled him in and he understood, driving himself deeper, a little bit harder into your tight core. 

“Pero…” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he grunted in response, his hand grabbing your leg and finding a new angle. 

“Amor, let me feel you come around me, give me this…” he panted, “the first time…I want it-”

Before he’d even finished you cried out under him, gripping him tight, your body trembling as the string snapped and lighting coursed through you, Pero’s thick cock driving hard into you, pushing your pleasure higher as he gasped and grunted. With a cry he broke, a loud groan, and he spilled himself inside, your legs like a vice around his waist as he rocked himself deeper. 

He was heavy on top of you, the warm sweat of his torso gliding against your own chest as you buried your face against his neck and took long, deep breaths. 

“Pero…my love…” you whispered softly into his ear, his wet kiss against your own neck was his exhausted response as he slowly came down from his high. Your arms were still wrapped tight around him, as were your legs, locking him in place. Not that he wanted to leave, he would stay here, in this bed, between your legs, until moss grew on him like an old boulder that no farmer could move. 

He was home. 

Endless miles stretched out behind them, thousands if they cared to count them. Pero did not. All he could see was the white cliffs in front of the ship, like a beacon, a sign that their long journey was finally coming to an end. 

They returned, not as poor as they’d set out, but not as rich as they thought they’d be, but the only thing that mattered to Pero was that he was returning. He’d fought with his friend, felt betrayed by him, even abandoned him in the end, so strong was his need to return home. It had almost cost him his life, caught by the very army he was trying to escape as he left William behind, brought back and then thrown in chains. He thought he’d die there, locked up in a dungeon, never seeing you again. 

It burned in his chest as the chains gnawed at his wrists, to never see you again, to leave you behind in this world without a word. He could see your face as he closed his eyes, conjured it up in his mind and remembered the tears clinging to your lashes as he pulled back one final time and turned for his horse. Riches or not, he was a damn fool for leaving you, he should’ve been content with what he had. 

In the end it was only by the grace of God, or maybe by William’s good heart, that he’d been freed by the very friend he’d betrayed and allowed to leave and make the long journey home. 

Now he stood on solid ground again, readying his horse for the final stretch home. 

Home. 

A word he’d never thought he’d be able to say and for it to mean something worth fighting for. A woman he loved. A house where he could keep her warm and protected. A place to raise a family. 

Home. He was going home. He knew he never should’ve left. 

The last ride was easy and he drove his horse fast, the afternoon barely past its prime as he saw the cottage at the end of the path, tucked in among the heavy oak trees. It looked well kept, but the door was shut tight and no animals roamed around the yard. 

“Mi amor!” he called, spurring his horse on for the last few yards, “Mi amor!” he called again as he swung himself from the saddle. 

But the door was shut tight and wouldn’t budge and a lap around the small house showed him that it was indeed as empty as it looked. He mounted his horse again, not yet uneasy, and set a fast pace down the lane, towards your father’s farm a mile through the forest. 

Here there was life at least, chickens in the yard, a dog pulling on its leash and the door open. Again he swung himself from the saddle, throwing the reins around the gate post and striding forward. 

“Stay back!”

Your sword was raised. Your sword? No, his sword, the one he’d left with you. Held up by you now, threatening him to not take another step forward. 

“Mi amor, it’s me, Pero,” he smiled, spreading his arms wide and taking long strides to you, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and feel your soft body melt against his after so many months. 

“Stay back!” you snarled, taking a step back and settling into the fighting stance he’d taught you and Pero floundered, stopping in his tracks. 

“Amor…Have I changed that much? Don’t you know your husband?” 

“I don’t have a husband,” you replied, your sword still raised, “Now, leave before I set the dogs on you!”

Pero felt a cold dread rise in his chest, confusion clouding his mind, he didn’t understand why you didn’t know him and he dropped his arms, his face a pained mask. 

“Mi amor, it’s me, I left a year ago on a foolish mission, you were my wife when I left and I have fought so hard all this time to get back to you and…” he trailed off as your eyes showed no recognition, no flash of relief. Just a hard stare at him. 

“Tovar!” 

A voice called out, an elderly man coming around the corner of the cottage, his white hair in tufts around his ears and neck and his face concerned. 

“Tovar, it’s good to see you safe after all this time, my boy!” 

The man forced a pained smile at Pero before he reached you. 

“Daughter, lower your sword, he is a friend, he just hadn’t been past here in some time,” the old man put his hand on your arm and gently made you lower the sword, “Go inside and make sure the stew is not burning, I will speak with Tovar and join you shortly.” 

Pero looked on in confusion as you sheathed the sword, smiled at your father and turned back into the cottage. 

“John, tell me what’s going on, why does my wife not know me?” 

“Come with me,” he replied and gestured towards the edge of the farm yard, the low stone wall serving as a seat as he sank down. Pero remained standing, glancing back at the cottage. Part of him wanted to storm into the cottage and grab you, shake you and make you see him, see him, your husband. But John’s hand landed on his arm and pulled his attention back to the old man. 

“It began not long after you and William left, her memories have been slowly going and neither the priest nor the physician know why or what caused it.” 

“What do you mean, her memories are going? She doesn’t know me?” Pero gripped the handle of his sword, not a threat, just a comfort, to hold on to something familiar as he rubbed his thumb over the pommel, “I am her husband, she loves me, how can she forget me?” 

“I don’t know, Pero,” John sighed, rubbing his weathered hand over his face as he shook his head, “she just doesn’t. And it’s not just you, she seems to forget most new things from one day to the next, a new neighbour, the cow giving birth to a new calf, selling a few of the chickens, she just forgets,” he looked over at the cottage where a thin tendril of smoke rose slowly from the short chimney, “She remembers her childhood, her brother and mother dying, after that it all becomes hazy.”

John looked up at Pero again and Pero could see the toll the past year had taken on his father-in-law as pain flashed across his face, his usually bright eyes sunken and dark. 

“I’m sorry, son, she doesn’t even remember meeting you, nothing of your life together, and not you leaving.” 

It hits him like a dagger to the chest, piercing in its pain and wrenching his chest open; he left, she begged him not to, but he left and this is his punishment. Her mind is protecting her from the pain he caused. With a groan he turns around, sinking down on the wall, his head buried in his hands, it feels as if his throat is closing up, a sob tearing its way up, like broken glass cutting him open. 

“I left her,” he groaned, choking around his words, “She begged me not to go, that last night before I left, and I thought I had to and left her anyway. I broke her heart and this is my punishment, her mind has removed me from her so she doesn’t have to live with my betrayal.” 

“Son…” John said, his voice choking too, but he put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “We do not know the will of the Lord, you did what you thought was best.” 

The hand on Pero’s shoulder burned like fire, guilt over taking him and he stumbled to his feet, shaking off the other man’s grip with a shrug. 

“I’ll leave, it’s for the best,” he replied, striding towards his horse without looking back, his jaw tight around his words, “Take care of her for me.” 

“Tovar, wait,” John called after him and hurried to his feet. He grabbed the reins of the horse just as Pero swung himself into the saddle, “She loves you, still. I know she does, she just needs to remember you.” 

“Remember how I broke her heart and left her? What kind of a husband was I? No,” Pero shook his head and gathered the reins, making John let go of them, “Let her have a good life without me.” 

The door of the cottage creaked as he spoke the last words, making him look up towards it. You were standing in the opening, an empty water bucket in your hand, your eyes on him. 

“Are you really my husband?” you asked, glancing over at your father, but finding Pero’s eyes again. Pero felt his throat close up again as he saw the way you looked at him, a complete stranger, not a trace of recognition. 

He just nodded in response, not trusting his voice. 

“He is, my dear,” John replied in his stead,  “Do you remember me telling you about him when your mind first started to go?” 

You shook your head at that, your eyes still on Pero. 

“I’m leaving,” he said, a deep furrow in his brow as he ruefully shook his head, “I caused you both enough hurt.” He nudged his horse to turn around, walking it through the gate and out onto the road, avoiding John’s look of pity.  

“Wait!” 

The call came just as he was about to spur his horse on, away from your empty stare. 

“Wait,” you called, hurrying after him, stopping as he halted his horse and turned in the saddle. You came up to stand by its neck, looking up at him, “Stay at least the night, I…I know I lost so many memories, but...if you’re my husband then you should stay, maybe something will come back.” 

“No,” he shook his head, looking away from you and down the road, “I caused too much harm, I don’t want you to have to relive the pain I caused you.” 

“Please, my life has been cut in half, I can’t remember it, but I know something big is missing. I will gladly take the pain again if I can have the rest of my life back,” you put your hand on his horse’s neck, tilting your face up to him as you waited for his reply, “Please.” 

He couldn’t resist looking down at you and he felt his resolve weaken as your eyes met his. Such a familiar face, the one he loved so deeply. The colour of your eyes was seared into his mind, the small imperfections on your cheeks that he’d mapped with his lips so many nights, the shape of your perfect nose that he’d traced with his calloused fingers when you complained that it was all wrong. So many long, cold nights, picturing this face in his mind’s eye as he tried to do what he thought was right, the desperate moments when he thought he wasn’t coming back to you at all. Facing monsters from nightmares in overwhelming numbers, even as he fought for his life, this face was floating before him. You were the one he was fighting so hard to get home to. 

Now you were looking back at him, pleading with him, and he knew he had no choice. The last time he denied your request, he’d almost lost his life and you’d lost your memories of him. He would stay. The pain he would feel at seeing you look at him like a stranger would be a small price to pay compared to the pain he’d put you through with his greed and stubbornness. 

He gave you a nod, a short movement of his head as you held his gaze. He searched in vain for a glimmer of recognition, a flash of the woman you were before he left, but there was nothing. Just a small, uncertain smile as you dropped your hand from his horse’s neck and took a few steps back. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, glancing back at your father, “my father will be glad to have you with us too, he’s probably tried to make me remember you so many times.” 

Pero slid off the back of his horse and took hold of the reins as he turned to you. His rough fingernails dug into the palm of his hand as he clenched his fist, the familiar scent of your skin washing over him as he got closer. He could feel every bone in his body aching to reach out and pull you into his arm, bury his nose in the soft skin of your neck and breathe you in, feel your hands on him again. He could feel himself torn in two; the urge to bolt when you took a step back from him, the need to stay near and never leave again. 

“Amor…” he mumbled, tearing his eyes away from you as you took another step back, the pain and emotion plain on his face. 

“I’m…I’m sorry…” you whispered, “I don’t know what that means…” 

For a few moments you looked at him as he refused to meet your eyes again, his gaze wavering as his hand closed around the reins of his horse. His knuckles were pulled taught, the tension in his still form clear, and you took another step back. 

“Please, put your horse away and I’ll heat up water for you to wash. Father said you’ve travelled far, you must be weary. There's good stew cooking too,” you raised your hand and gently put it on the neck of his horse, “Come, please.” 

He followed you into the house once he’d put the horse away, your father leaving to bring the small herd of cows in for the evening. Water was heating over the fire and you mixed it with the cooler water from the barrel as Pero stepped over the threshold with his heavy saddle bags by his side. 

“You live with your father now,” he said, a statement rather than a question, but you nodded, wiping your hands and turning to the stew pot. 

“Yes, well, I don’t remember living anywhere else but he tells me the cottage down the road is where I lived before…” you trailed off, putting your hand to your temple as your brow furrowed, screwing up your eyes as if trying to search for a memory. Pero shifted by the door and you turned to him with a surprised look on your face. 

“I-I guess…that’s where we lived?” you asked and a look of anguish flashed across his face. 

“Yes….yes, we lived there,” he replied, still holding his heavy bags, looking like he was almost on the verge of leaving again. “We moved there on our wedding day and I… Do you ever visit it now?” 

You shook your head but hesitated, “Never…but maybe I have been back, but I forget from one day to the next, I know it’s there but if I see it now, it’s like I see it for the first time.” 

Pero dropped his bags on the floor and rubbed his hand over his face, his shoulders slumped as if under a tremendous weight. 

“Amor…” he said to the floor before looking up at you again, “I don’t know if I can do this. We lived there, you and me, they were the happiest days of my wretched life, and now it’s all been taken from us. You look at me like a stranger and I can’t stand it.” 

You didn’t know what to say, the man in front of you was a stranger, nothing in his voice or face was familiar. The only reason you asked him to stay was your father telling you he was your husband, and that feeling in your chest of something missing, that empty space in your mind, a big piece of your life’s memories missing. 

“I’m sorry…” you said again, but he shook his head. 

“Don’t. It’s my fault, I did this to you. And I’m staying until you tell me to leave.” 

“I might not remember you in the morning,” you said, “I often forget meeting new people.” 

New people

It cut through him like the sharpest blade. He’s ‘new people’ to you now, not your husband, or even a friend. Just a stranger in your house. 

He nodded at the large bowl that you’d filled with water, “I’ll get cleaned up now, do you want me to go outside?” 

The cottage was familiar, he’d spent much time here before the wedding, and not much had changed in the year he’d been gone. It had only two rooms, and he presumed you were sleeping in the bed nook against the back wall, your father in the other room. The small cottage didn’t hold much space for privacy. 

You shook your head and turned back to the fire, “I’ll keep my back turned, I need to watch the stew.” 

He stared at you for a beat, the achingly familiar shape of your shoulders, your hips and the way you cocked one out to the side as you leaned forward over the large pot. How many times hadn’t he come up behind you, run his hands over your soft shapes, pushed your hair to the side and pressed kisses to your neck as you giggled at the way his beard tickled your skin. Now you stood with your back to him to not see as he pulled off his clothes, something you’d done to him almost every night. Unlaced his shirt, pulled it from his breeches and caressed his skin with your soft hands. 

The dirty shirt dropped to the floor with a soft sound and you heard him wring the washcloth as you added the last of the herbs to the stew. You couldn’t help yourself, you glanced over your shoulder and stole a look at him. He was a stranger, but supposedly your husband, and either way, he was handsome. Under that layer of grime and sweat, he was a striking man, unlike any you’d ever seen. Or, at least, unlike anyone your mind would let you remember. So you glanced back at him and was struck almost dumb by the sight. Broad shoulders, a muscular back tapering into narrow hips where his breeches hung low as he rubbed the washcloth over his abdomen. 

The back of his neck was tanned golden, his back lighter and marred by a long scar that shone bright in the dim light. It looked like a painful injury, old and long since healed over, and you wondered if he’d ever told you what had happened to him. Had you run your fingers over as he told you the story? You realised you must’ve spent countless nights next to this man in your marital bed, his hands on you, your hands on him. This man, this stranger in your father’s house, would know you better than anyone else, every inch of your body and your most intimate secrets. 

As if he could sense your eyes on him, he glanced back over his shoulder and met your eyes, and he seemed to hold his breath for a moment. Then he turned fully to face you, the washcloth forgotten in his hand. 

“Amor…” he whispered and you bit back a sudden sob. His eyes were so hopeful, you wanted nothing more than to remember him, to have all the memories of him flood back into your mind as he dropped the washcloth and took two quick steps across the floor. 

“I don’t remember,” you sobbed as his arms wrapped around you, “I don’t remember anything about you.” 

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t let you go. Instead he let you sob against his chest, holding you close as he rested his chin on your head. His heart was beating wildly, thrumming so hard you could hear it as you pressed your cheek against him, and even though he was a stranger, his arms felt safe around you, the scent of his skin comforting and soothing. 

With a small movement he rubbed your back, slowly up and down, “It will come back, amor, it will. And if it doesn’t, I will make you fall in love with me again and tell you about all the memories we have.” 

You nodded against his chest, your sobs subsiding, but you didn’t pull away from him, and he didn’t let his arms drop. He held you just as tight, reluctant to give up the feeling of having you in his arms again after all he endured to get back to you. 

“Although…I’m still not sure how I made a woman like you fall in love with a reckless mercenary like me, how will I manage that again?” he said, a small smile to his voice and you looked up at him. He’d lifted his chin from your head and was looking at you with a sad smile, tears clinging to his dark lashes. 

“Promise me you’ll try,” you said, your voice low and broken. 

“Every day for the rest of my life, amor,” he whispered, “I will make you fall in love with me again and then we can make all those memories one more time.” 

A/N - I hope you enjoyed this bitter sweet little story! Bonus points to anyone who caught the LotR reference :)

Tagging some of my fellow Pero lovers:

@nerdieforpedro @din-cognito @harriedandharassed @morallyinept @inept-the-magnificent

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @angiewatson @cozylittlepigeon @604to647

@survivingandenduring @for-a-longlongtime @gnpwdrnsnshine @wintersquirrel @grogusmum

[jazeswhbhaven]

can i request the kings + some of the nobles ( like Leraye, Gamigin and Bael ) with a mc who wants them to use skirts and cute feminine clothes bc they think is hot and cute.

Thank you for waiting anon ^^ it's time to dress up the bois~

Nobles

Leraye: A skirt instead of pants? Especially for the uniform he's wearing? He asks MC if he can at least try shorts first like Paimon because he's afraid of a strong wind blowing it up and everyone can see his panties. However, once he puts on one of those skin tight mini skirts he's sold. And besides, he doesn't have to wear it all the time. Not unless he wants to...

Gamigin: Which one? The long skirt, the small one, the one that twirls? Oh how about this one made from tulle? Gamigin is excited to try on all the skirts, even a few dresses because he's fascinated by clothing in general. A lot of what he'd choose is flowy/giving him breathing room but he doesn't mind trying on a tight skirt. Marbas though has told MC that Gamigin is distracting everyone by wearing it. Whatever that means.

Bael: He only keeps on his uniform so he can mimic Beel effectively. But if MC convinces him that Beel is running around wearing a mini skirt then you bet he's gonna put one on. Though in private, he'll wear just about anything for MC so he has a stash of dresses and skirts and blouses he picked himself to show off when he has time. He may slip on a couple of low-cut cute blouses when he's working in the office so MC can compliment him. sneaky Bael

Kings

Satan: Eh??? Skirts limit his mobility to kick people's asses he says, but he has no problem wearing them if he's just staying still for the moment or modeling for MC. He may get cheeky and rip the side of whatever he's wearing as a makeshift slit so his thigh peeks through. Or he's wearing a dress so tight, MC can see that he's wearing those new noshow panties or is he commando?

Mammon: He has to custom order everything MC asks him to wear but he does it without even having to be asked twice. Him in a skirt? oh it keeps riding up his ass and he rarely bothers to pull it down. But he prefers to wear longer dresses and skirts because well...all of Tartaros knows that this king does not wear underwear often. While MC may not mind being flashed when he bends over, he thinks only his master should get those privilege's.

Beelzebub: This devil loves crop tops, leggings, thigh highs, sheer pantyhose, you name it. So when MC asked for him to wear more skirts and dresses in the mix, he was a step ahead. His thighs are his greatest asset so you won't see him wearing anything that goes below mid-thigh length. He even wears a garter for MC to try and take off with their teeth. But that's just for afterdark when he's done parading around Avisos *wink*

Leviathan: The first time he's ever said "no" so fast was MC asking him to wear more skirts and feminine clothing. Not because he felt embarrassed or didn't think he shouldn't it's simply because they requested it. But he doesn't mind, day by day implementing a blouse or heels, more frills to his button downs, pantsuits...and eventually he shows up in a striking red dress and everyone in the palace is losing their mind and envious that it was MC who could influence him to do so. Levi also likes seeing MC look flustered in how his body looks in the dress. Mission accomplished.

Lucifer: You know what's perfect knowing that this fallen angel wears thongs? Is getting him to wear low cut mini skirts that show off his crack. Now it's an excuse to get him thongs with bejweled letters that spell out "MC was Here" or "Too hot to Handle" that pokes out from the top of his skirt. He sees absolutely no point in attire like this but he wears it just because he likes how his legs look. Get him a good pair of heels and it's a wrap.

Belphegor: It's hilarious that he just accepts MC's request because it's easier than fighting them about it. Catch is...they have to dress him. Belphie is now a doll for MC being dressed up, lazing around in the cutest outfits. Most of them goth inspired dresses or that "e-girl" look. Even Beleth is impressed and often calls him "cute".

[willow-moon-23]

Black Cat and Her German Shepherd

Aaron Hotchner X Fem!Reader

Summary: The tables have turned and now it's time for her team to meet her spouse.

Part 1

Word Count: 2437

Standing in the kitchen, her hands braced on the counter. She takes a long slow breath. Hotch walks up behind her.

“Are you feeling ok, colonel?” He wraps his arms around her from behind.

She glances back at him. “Fine. Just thinking.”

Hotch studies her for a moment longer. “Are you worried about me meeting your team?”

(Y/N) lets out a sigh. “No.” Her answer was flat, but Hotch could tell she was fighting a lot of thoughts in her head as she glares at the cleaned dishes on the counter.

“Then what is it?” He asks patiently.

She pushes off the counter, pushing Hotch a step away as well. “My team,” She starts slowly as she turns to face him. “I’ve told you the stories. They are a motley crew of hardened soldiers. They hardly have a filter when talking to higher ups and even less of one when talking to each other.”

“I’m aware.” He nods, letting her talk through her thoughts.

“They’re good men. I trust them with my life.” She speaks slowly.

Hotch brushes her hair from her face. "But?"

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know. I can’t figure out why I’m hesitating like this.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks up at her husband. “You’ve met the captain before. Only because I got hurt, but you’ve still met him and he likes you. He always asks about you when I come back from leave.”

He nods along. “He gave me his number in case anything were to happen to you.”

“Yes. He’s a good man.” She agrees with him and begins pacing. “I know they won't judge us for any reason. They might make jokes if they are comfortable enough.”

Hotch walks up to her again and holds her shoulders, effectively stopping her pacing. “You’re overthinking it. Take a breath, colonel. I’ve never seen you this worked up. Not even when you’re being deployed.”

She does as he says and takes a slow breath. “This feels more nerve-wracking than a month-long mission and I can’t figure out why.”

“Maybe there is no ‘why’.” He rubs her arms gently. “Maybe you want to be sure that both your lives can coexist and not clash. There's no harm in wanting things to go well.”

(Y/N) looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe you’re right.” She drops her head to rest against Hotch’s chest. She slowly wraps her arms around him. “Stop reading me.”

Hotch chuckles. “I didn’t have to profile you to know all of that.”

She hums. After a moment, she pushes back. “Cap and Gaz said they would be here in ten. Johnny said he’d catch a ride with Ghost. Meaning they would be late because of him.”

“Do we have everything ready for them?” Hotch’s hands rub her back idly. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing all food was ready.

“Yeah, I just need to set the table and change.” She tilts her head as she thinks.

Hotch looks her up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“I’m in workout clothes.” Her tone was flat. She looks down at her sports bra and leggings with a raised eyebrow.

“I think you look great.” He winks.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “You’re awful. I’m going to change.” She turns away from him and walks to their room. Hotch chuckles as he watches her leave the kitchen.

Once the door closes behind her, he begins taking out the silverware and glasses to set the table for her. He sets it identically to when she had made dinner for his team about a month ago. He walks around the kitchen one last time making sure everything that needs to be turned off is before walking to their room. He knocks twice before entering. Hotch smiles and walks up behind (Y/N).

“I like this shirt.” He comments, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

(Y/N) closes her eyes and hums. “You should. You bought it for me.”

“Yes, I did.” His voice was smug. Before he could compliment her again their doorbell rings.

(Y/N) chuffs. “Saved by the bell. Take a second before you come out, yeah.” She pats his chest affectionately before walking out and closing the door behind her. She smirks as she hears Hotch groan behind the door. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door. She is greeted by her captain and one of her sergeants. “Evening boys.”

“Good to see you, colonel.” Price steps forward and envelopes her in a warm hug as she lets them into her home.

She accepts his hug and turns to Gaz. “How was the flight over?”

“Not too bad. Cap slept the whole way here.” Gaz laughs and offers her his own hug.

(Y/N) shakes her head and hugs him. “No surprise there.” She hears her bedroom door open behind her and pulls back. “Boys, my husband, Aaron Hotchner.” She steps to the side as Hotch enters the space next to her.

Price was the first to extend a hand. “Good to see you again, agent.”

“Likewise, captain.” Hotch shakes his hand, with a nod.

(Y/N) motions toward Gaz. “This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or Gaz, as we all call him.”

“I thought he’d be taller.” Gaz stage whispers to (Y/N) before extending his hand.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “I told you he’s barely taller than you.”

Hotch takes Gaz’s hand with a chuckle noticing his wife's banter with the sergeant. “A pleasure to meet you, sergeant Garrick.”

“Gaz is fine.” The sergeant gently corrects him. Hotch nods mentally takes a note.

A loud knock at the front door had (Y/N) turning to open it. ”And there are the last two.”

The four are met with Johnny’s grinning face the second the colonel opens the door. He immediately pushes into her house, hugging her tightly. “Bonnie, it’s been too long.” He squeezes her as if he hasn’t seen her in over a year.

“It’s been three days, Johnny.” (Y/N) pushes the Scott off with a raised eyebrow.

“Three days is three too long.” He practically whines at her. Gaz and Price chuckle behind them.

“He’s been whining the whole way here.” Ghost steps into the house and closes the door behind him. The tall Lieutenant towered over all five of them in his black hoodie and face mask.

The colonel chuffs. “No surprise there.” She turns to her husband. “This-”

“John McTavish, they call me Soap.” Johnny interrupts her with a grin and eagerly shakes Hotch's hand.

“Is our other Sergeant.” (Y/N) sighs. “And this is Lieutenant Riley. He prefers Ghost. Boys, this is my husband, Aaron Hotchner.”

“Federal Agent.” Ghost looks him up and down.

“Unit Chief.” Hotch nods, taking Ghost's hand.

Ghost hums and turns to (Y/N). “How’s the side?” he jerks his chin toward her.

(Y/N) shrugs. “Healing.”

Johnny bumps Hotch's arm. “So, how ya manage to tie ‘er down?” Gaz chuckles behind Johnny. “Couldn’t ‘ave been an easy feat.”

(Y/N) lightly smacks the backside of Johnny’s head. “He didn’t tie me down.” She glares at him. “Get in the dining room before I throw you out already.”

“Awe, don’ be like that, Lass. Just poken’ a bit of fun.” Johnny grins, knowing she’s not actually mad at him.

“Go.” She points to the dining room.

Johnny holds his hand up in surrender and walks into the other room with Gaz and Ghost behind him. Price chuckles. “Pay them no mind. They were all excited when you told us to come for dinner.”

Hotch steps next to his wife and gently rests a hand on her lower back. “I’m glad you all could make it. I know you’re going back tomorrow. So it means a lot to both of us that you took the time to stop here first.”

Price smiles. “Anything for one of ours.” He turns and walks into the dining room.

(Y/N) sighs and looks up at Hotch. “Any initial thoughts?”

“Your stories of Johnny don’t do him justice.” Hotch laughs softly.

She shrugs. “He’s something else alright.”

“Come on, they’re waiting for us.” Hotch softly nudges her forward.

“Fine.” She takes his hand and heads in. She takes her seat next to Hotch’s after passing out plates to everyone and looks around the table. Her team was all happily joking with her husband as they all settled in. Her team thanks her for the meal and eagerly digs in. They haven’t had a properly cooked meal like this in a while, so they enjoy it when they can. All of them make sure (Y/N) knows how thankful they are before the questioning starts.

“So, how bad has it been, been’ married to this one?” Johnny was the first to break up the sound of utensils on plates. (Y/N) glares at Johnny.

Hotch laughs it off. “Honestly, not much has changed for us. We love spending time together. Marriage just seems to work for us.”

“He puts up with me, it’s all I can ask for.” (Y/N) chimes in as she cuts another bite to eat. Her lighthearted comment brings a chuckle to everyone.

“You have a little one, right?” Gaz leans forward to ask Hotch.

“I do. Jack is at his aunt's house right now.” Hotch smiles as he talks about Jack.

Price turns to (Y/N). “He likes you?”

“He does.” She nods. “I mean, he better, I’ve been in his life since he was born.” She looks over at Hotch with a smile.

Price chuckles. “Fair enough.” Price turns to Hotch. “She told us you were a prosecutor before working with the BAU, correct?”

“Yes, I used to work as a prosecutor. I changed fields so I could do more good than I was doing then.” Hotch easily takes over the conversation. Telling them how he felt as if he could do more good being a profiler than he ever could as a prosecutor.

Her team continues to ask more questions, mainly about Hotch’s job and how he treats (Y/N) when she's home. Once everyone was finished eating the boys immediately help (Y/N) clear the table and wash up, not that she even asked them to. If anything, she told them not to, only to be, politely, pushed aside. Hotch stands next to her as Johnny and Gaz tell him about a mission they went on where they had to detangle (Y/N) and Price from a tree after a rough landing. (Y/N) and Price exchange glances when the two add more details than were true. A few eye rolls and scoffs were shared at the story.

Once all the dishes were done and Johnny finally finished another one of his stories, (Y/N) moved everyone into the living room. There Hotch tells them a bit more about what he and his team do. The team listens eagerly, hanging onto nearly every word. (Y/N) smiles to herself as she watches them. After a minute she feels a soft tap against her shoe. She looks up to see Ghost staring at her. He nods his head toward the kitchen. (Y/N) gives him a soft nod.

“You boys want tea?” She interjects softly as Hotch finishes his thought.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

“Yes, please.”

“Sure, Lass.”

She nods as they accept. “Aaron?” She stands and looks down at her husband.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiles up at her.

“Ok. Give me a hand, Simon?” Ghost merely stands and follows behind her. The two walk into the kitchen as the four continue talking.

“You trust 'im?” He asks the second the two are out of earshot.

“With my life.” (Y/N) looks up at the lieutenant.

Ghost stares at her with matching seriousness. “He good to ya'?”

“Very.” She answers easily.

He nods. “If he tries anythin’.”

“You’ll be the first I call.” She interrupts his thought.

Ghost grunts. “'is team know you?”

“Met them a while back.” She nods.

He nods. After a long pause, he speaks up again. “I like 'im.”

(Y/N) chuffs. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Don’ get cheeky.” Ghost narrows his eyes at her.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” (Y/N) turns to prepare tea for her team.

Once the tea was ready, the two brought out the cups and passed them to each member. They all say their thanks and ease back into asking questions. To Hotch’s credit he takes Gaz and Johnny’s lighthearted banter and runs with it. The night goes on with loud laughs and well-meant jabs at each other. Hotch got to sit back and watch (Y/N) and Johnny have a back-and-forth on whose fault a misplaced rifle started a five-day hunt for said rifle was. Sitting in his living room with his wife and her team allowed him to see just how close they all were and how much they cared for each other.

As the sun started to go down the team realized they should be heading out. They all said their goodbyes for the night, giving hugs to their colonel and strong gripped handshakes to Hotch. They thanked Hotch and (Y/N) for the meal and headed out the door.

Price stops by (Y/N) and rests a hand on her shoulder. “You have a lovely house. Thank you for having us over.”

“Thank you for accepting my invitation to join us.” She rests her hand over his.

“We’ll always come when you call, love.” Price smiles at her.

She returns his smile. “Drive safe.”

He gives her shoulder a light squeeze and tips the brim of his hat to her and nods to Hotch before walking to his car. (Y/N) and Hotch stand outside watching each of them get into the cars, Johnny waves at them as he and Ghost drive off first. Price and Gaz follow out the driveway.

Hotch wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Feel better?”

“I do.” She leans into him. Her hands hold his arms.

“You sure, you look pensive.” He tilts his head to look down at her.

She waves off his worry. “Price mentioned something about our next mission. It’s nothing to do with you meeting them.”

Hotch could tell she was being honest. “You think I meet their approval?”

(Y/N) nods. “Ghost likes you.”

“He barely said a word.” Hotch raises an eyebrow.

“That’s just how he is.” She shrugs. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell, Mr. Profiler.” She teases.

“I think it was the twitch in his eye every time I touched you that made me think otherwise.” Hotch laughs. “You have a good group around you. They genuinely care for you.”

(Y/N) gives his arm a squeeze. “Yeah, they’re a good bunch.”

[blueicequeen19]

Drunken State

Warnings: drunk unprotected shower sex between two best friends 🥵

The sudden loud bang coming from the bathroom has you startling awake and throwing your blanket off as you make a beeline for the door. You rush down the hall, finding the door standing open and a drunk JJ struggling in the tub where he’d fallen. He’s collapsed in a fit of laughter, half wrapped in the shower curtain with his shorts around his ankles.

“Dude, seriously?” You chide, shaking your head at him from the door.

“Y/N.. shh.. people are sleeping.” JJ snickers, trying and failing to get up.

“Yea, no shit. Why are you shit faced on a Tuesday?” You grab his arm to help pull him out of the tub.

“Because my girlfriend cheated on me on a Tuesday.” JJ chuckles, tripping over his own feet and crashing into you, pinning you between his body and the wall.

“JJ..” You murmur, your hands flat against the wall as you resist the urge to touch him.

You suck in a breath, your eyes locked on his at the sudden close proximity. His body was pressed firmly against your own, letting you feel every ridge and curve. Especially with his shorts around his ankles and his boxers providing a very thin barrier.

The energy shifts from light and amused to thick and intense. There’s no sign of laughter in the way he stares down at you, licking his bottom lip like he has something to say. You open your mouth to say something, anything, when you feel him hardening against you. Your eyes widen as you feel every inch of him raise to full attention against your stomach.

“You should go.” JJ rasps, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes descend your body. Heat rushes through your veins as you quickly squeeze your thighs together. He wasn’t wrong. You should go.

“I should.” You whisper, wetting your lips with your tongue while his eyes track the movement. Kissing JJ had never sounded like a better idea than in this moment. He was hurting and you were lonely. You were both in need of a distraction that came with an orgasm or two..

“Then go.” The desire in his raspy voice made your stomach flip. His hand came up to grip the back of your neck, arching your neck for him and bringing your mouth closer.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” JJ whispers, his mouth so close to your own that you can practically taste the alcohol on his breath. You find yourself nodding slowly, your legs starting to tremble with need. He leans in closer, ghosting his lips across your cheek before whispering in your ear.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I do.” Your hands move to his waist, feeling the heat of his skin through his boxers as his breath meats your neck.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You admit, feeling his cock press against your stomach.

“Help me shower.” JJ whispers, hooking his thumbs in the waist band of your sleep shorts.

“Why do you need help?”

“I’m drunk. I could drown.” You snort at his words because it’s typical JJ charm but he’s not smiling. Time seems to slow as he strips off the rest of his clothes, fixes the shower curtain, and turns on the water.

When he faces you again, it becomes almost impossible to keep from looking at how hard he was. Was it you? Was it the alcohol? The stress from a long day?

“Strip.” His gruff voice has your thighs clenching as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“JJ..”

“Stop thinking.” JJ rasps, cupping the back of your neck before kissing you hard. You moan against his lips, hands wrapping around his waist until your nails dig into his back. He pulls back just enough to run his tongue over your bottom lip before whispering, “—, and take your fucking clothes off.”

You don’t have to be told twice, yanking off the few articles of clothing you’re wearing before being yanked against his very naked and very hard body. His mouth is on yours again before you can even blink and he’s pulling you into the scolding hot shower.

His fingers slide between your legs at about the same time you wrap your hand around his thick length. A moan slips free as he rubs your clit with teasing touches, leaving you desperate to be filled. You’d never been more turned on in your life.

“This only happens once.” You murmur, stroking him root to tip as his jaw clenches, hair hanging in his eyes.

“For now.” JJ mutters, his fingers circling your entrance until you’re lifting up on your toes and squeezing him harder.

“And we don’t tell the others.” You gasp, arching your hips in a silent plea.

“Then you better be quiet.” JJ growls before shoving two thick fingers inside you and swallowing your cries with a bruising kiss. Your back meets the wall as he fingers you harder, pushing your legs further apart as his palm grinds against your clit.

“JJ, I’m gonna cum.” You whine, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip as you suck in a breath.

“Not until I’m inside you.” You nearly cum right then, your insides squeezing his fingers desperately as he slows his movements, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“I love seeing your desperate for my cock.” JJ growls, removing his fingers to prop your leg open on the edge of the tub. You’re in no position to argue as you reach between your legs and guide him where you need.

“I seem to remember someone just as desperate for me to strip.” You breathe, his hand meeting yours as he helps push inside your tight walls. Your bottom lips quivers as he fills you agonizingly slow until he bottoms out and you can barely breathe. It takes you far too long to realize he hasn’t moved on purpose, intentionally driving you mad.

“Do you need something?” He taunts, leaning in to kiss you and making his cock sink in deeper. You whimper, nails biting into his sides as your walls pulse.

“JJ.” You pant, withering against the shower wall as every last bit of sanity seems to leave you.

“Ask me for it.” JJ smirks, letting his hands find your heavy, aching breasts and tugging on your hardened nipples.

“Please J..” You plead, unable to control the way your body trembles against his. “Please fuck me. Please, J..” Your words trail off on a moan as he withdraws enough to thrust back in hard. His hand clamps down over your mouth, fire in his eyes as he does it again and again. You can’t stop the release that explodes from you, your vision going dark for a period of time before you’re thrown back into your body.

“That’s it. Cum for me.” JJ grunts over the sound of skin on skin. He drives his cock in hard and fast, as one hand fists your hair and the other leaves a bruising grip on your hip. His mouth crashes to yours as you open your mouth to scream, another climax hitting you harder than the first. Your knees grow weak as you dig your nails into his back, holding on for dear life.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, Y/N.” JJ groans, making you clench even harder as you whimper and moan against his lips. A sudden panic clutches you at the thought of him getting you pregnant but you’ve also been on birth control for years and the panic fades as you tighten your grip on his back.

“Don’t stop.” You whisper, moving your lips to his neck and throat, biting and sucking the skin until he cums with a moan only seconds later, dropping his head to your shoulder.

You’d never had sex without a condom before and it was an odd first to share with your best friend. It was also alarmingly hot the way you could feel every pulse of his cock as he emptied inside you. You wanted to do it again and again, even if it meant—

“Yo! Get out of the bathroom!” A booming voice shouts through the door with a loud knock. JJ pulls back, staring at you with as much alarm as you feel when the door is suddenly thrown open anyway.

“Dude, I’m not looking but I have to pee.” Pope groans, following the obvious sound of him urinating in the toilet. You start to smirk at JJ as he shakes his head until he slowly starts to rock his hips, making bite back a whimper at the soreness deep in your pussy. This was wrong.

“Did you just get in?” Pope asks, startling you both again as he takes the world’s longest piss.

“Yea.” JJ grunts, moving his hips faster and coving your mouth with his hand as heat floods your insides even more than before.

“Cool.” There’s a pause as Pope flushes and turns on the sink. “I think I’m gonna ask Y/N out.” Pope announces, making your heart sink as you both stare at each other wide eyed. Oh no.

“Really?” JJ chokes out, looking down to where his cum covered cock is moving in and out of your wrecked pussy.

“Yea. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then the door shuts and you nearly collapse into JJ’s arms as he begins to move harder and faster.

This couldn’t be happening. Not Pope.

The look on JJ’s face told you he wasn’t happy about this either but the need for release was greater than tomorrow’s problems so he kissed you hard as you came again, pushing all thought of Pope and the Pogues to the side.. for now.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 78

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, April 10th – Manchester Airport.

I've never been so excited to go on vacation. I'm sitting next to Lucy, holding her hand. We're waiting for our flight. Jenni and Alexia dropped us off an hour ago after we ate together, and now we're alone. It's soothing to be just the two of us, especially after the past few weeks.

"Excited?" Lucy whispers to me.

"Oh yes."

"It will be well-deserved."

We exchange a smile. After nonstop studying, tests, mock exams, and even working at the gallery with Grace for two Saturdays... Yes, I think it will be well-deserved. I've worked hard, but I don't regret it. It helped lift a huge weight off my shoulders. At least I've secured my spot at art school for next year. That's something. Now, as agreed with Lucy, I must step away from my studies for two weeks. It's difficult because my diploma is still on my mind. I worked hard, and I think I did quite well on my mock exams this week, but you never really know. In the meantime, I promised to make the most of these two weeks, so I’m trying not to think about it. The only thing I need to focus on is Lucy and our families.

"I was thinking we could go camping," I shared with Lucy.

"Camping, huh?"

"Yeah. We've talked about it so much. It would be a great opportunity. Or at least spend the evening on the beach! Oh my God, I’ve missed that so much," I said excitedly. "With a campfire, marshmallows, and—"

"Hey," Lucy laughed. "Relax. We'll have all the time to do whatever you want. It seems work has gotten to your head, huh?" she teased, running her hand through my hair.

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, pouting.

"Oh no," she smiled mischievously.

"That was the deal, remember? I had to give it my all until vacation and then calm down afterward."

"That’s true. You didn’t sneak any study materials into your suitcase, did you? Maybe I should have checked."

"Stop," I giggled. "I wouldn’t do that."

"Oh no. That's not like you at all."

I laughed harder and playfully slapped her thigh at her irony. It's true I thought about it, but I didn't do it. I really want to enjoy this relaxing vacation. After all, we're going back home.

"Hey, none of that," she said, intertwining our fingers after my playful slap. "We have to endure almost 3 hours together in the air, so let’s not start hitting each other."

"True, but we'll sleep through half of it, so you don’t have to worry."

"Speak for yourself. You're a real napper."

I smiled. It's hard to argue with that. I enjoy being calm in moments like this. Finally, boarding time arrives. This is going to be a long trip. My six-hour flight back to Barcelona will seem like nothing compared to the nineteen hours we're about to face, with a layover, no less. We settle into our seats after passing through security. It's a shame, but I won’t see Shay here. She explained that she tries to be on the Barcelona flight as often as possible because her boyfriend lives there.

"Do you take this trip often?" I asked my girlfriend, gazing out of the window.

I’m eager to take off, but also nervous. I've never liked flying to Portugal. I wonder how Lucy feels about it. I remember she's not particularly fond of flying either.

"I think I’ve told you before," she answered. "I visit my parents twice a year… although, that might change next year."

"Why? Because of me? Please don't say that. I haven’t even met your parents yet, and they're going to hate me."

"Why are you getting so worked up?" she laughed. "Of course not. The venue will take up a lot of my time. I'll have other things to do than visit them. They'll just have to come to me for once."

"Okay," I murmured.

"Are you still nervous about meeting them?"

"A little…"

"Everything will be fine, I promise."

I smiled as she brought my hand to her lips. She makes me feel like everything's going to be okay. It’s crazy.

"Come on, get some rest. The trip is long, so you might as well recharge."

"Doesn’t it bother you...?"

"Sweetheart, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for three weeks. I know you’re tired. Rest, this is your time."

"Okay," I murmured. "Promise you won’t let me sleep too long though? I don’t want to leave you alone for the entire trip."

"Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company when we land."

She nudged me to rest my head against her. I smiled and settled into a comfortable position. It’s true, a little rest wouldn’t hurt. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s time to relax, but before that... she’s right. I need some rest.

"Thank you," I murmured as I watched the takeoff through the window.

My eyelids felt heavy after half an hour. I tried to stay awake to keep Lucy company, but she seemed to avoid talking to help me fall asleep. It didn’t take long.

Sunday, April 10th, – Lisbon Airport.

It's either early or late... I’m not sure anymore. Now I remember why I hate jet lag. The good thing is the flight made me forget the time and regain some energy. I feel great, and I think Lucy does too. We’ve got silly smiles on our faces. We know we’ll finally be able to live safely here. We were so happy to return to our homeland. As we enter the terminal, I immediately spot my grandpa. Lucy must have sensed my excitement because she released my hand without saying a word, letting me run toward him. I immediately hug him tightly.

"I'm so happy to see you again! I missed you."

"And I missed you."

We pull apart, and I turn toward Lucy, who’s now by my side again. Before I even have time to introduce them, my grandpa asks:

"Well, is this the lucky one?" he says with a grin.

"Yes. Grandpa, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Charlie Batlle, my grandfather."

"Nice to finally meet you. Ona’s told me a lot about you."

She smiles genuinely, though I can tell there’s a bit of tension behind it. My grandpa chuckles and catches her off guard by giving her a big hug.

"Forget formalities with me, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet my granddaughter’s girlfriend."

I smile in return. I didn’t expect this meeting to go any other way. My grandpa has such a big heart. When I told him who I was coming with, he was thrilled. I expected nothing less from him.

"How was the flight?" he asks as we start walking.

"Long, but overall good."

"Oh yes, it’s quite a haul. But we’re glad to finally be here."

I let them chat as I take in my surroundings. Just feeling the ground beneath my feet is a pleasure. My legs had started to go numb from sitting for so long. The sun shines through the large windows, making me smile. I feel like a ball of energy. It's wonderful to be back, but also hard. The last time I was here was for my father’s funeral... I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as we grab our bags and head outside. The weather feels nice. A bit cool, but I’m not surprised given the time. It's early, and this time of year, we’re in autumn. I think we’ll be lucky. It feels mild, and we’ll be able to do lots of outdoor activities like we talked about on the plane.

"How’s the weather?" I ask my grandpa for his opinion.

- "I think you're going to be lucky in the next few days," he replies with a smile.

- "Great."

We walk through the parking lot, looking for his car. I spot it immediately, remembering it perfectly.

- "Oh, you still have your old pickup!? I can't believe it!"

I rush over to it, making my girlfriend laugh. I've always loved this car. My grandfather used to let me sit in the back whenever we took short trips. I expected him to have gotten rid of it by now.

- "It's a nice car," Lucy comments, running her hand over the bodywork. "1970 Chevrolet, right?"

- "Yes, that's right," my grandfather says, surprised. "You like cars?"

- "She loves them," I chime in before Lucy can respond. "She's a huge fan. If there's anyone you can talk to about your old cars, it's definitely her."

- "She's exaggerating," my girlfriend replies, a bit embarrassed. "I know a little thanks to my dad. He loves them, so I guess I inherited that from him."

- "Do you know a bit about mechanics?" he continues. "Because I think this old thing could use a little tune-up."

- "Oh. Well, I can take a look if you'd like. I restored my first car with my dad, and it was about the same age, so I think I can manage."

- "Really?" I say, surprised. "I didn't know that."

I knew she liked cars, but I never knew where it came from. Now I do. I think these holidays are going to be a way for us to learn more about each other. After all, we’re returning to our roots.

- "I wouldn't be as interesting if I told you everything all at once," she teases, making my grandfather laugh.

- "She's right! That's how I kept your grandmother for all those years."

He adores my girlfriend, it's obvious. I couldn't be happier. His opinion matters a lot to me. It's like my dad accepting her.

- "What was her name?" Lucy asks.

- "Mandie."

- "That's a beautiful name. We’ll have to keep it in mind for later."

I blush at this comment, which is clearly not a joke. It's obvious she means it. I think back to the conversation we had at the restaurant. She really does want to have kids with me someday. Finally, we pack our things into the back. Once we're done, my grandfather hands the keys to my girlfriend.

- "Oh, um..."

She looks at me, unsure of what to do. I shrug with a little smile.

- "I wouldn’t say no if I were you. You must be dying to, and let’s just say he doesn’t let just anyone drive his baby..."

- "Oh yes, that's for sure," confirms my grandfather.

- "I don’t even know the way," she tries to argue.

- "Well, we’ll guide you," I reply. "Come on, I'll sit next to you."

I snatch the keys from my grandfather and drag Lucy to encourage her to do it. I sit in the middle to stay by her side. I can tell she's feeling a bit awkward behind the wheel, but that quickly fades once we leave the airport. I smile because it's clear she's enjoying herself. The engine purrs, showing its age, but it still drives smoothly. It just needs a good clean-up. On the other side, I can see my grandfather is happy too. He was so excited to know we were coming. It's been a long time since anyone visited him. I know he knows a lot of people here, but it must be tough losing all your loved ones and being left without family nearby. In any case, he's in great shape. He hasn’t stopped talking the entire ride. I'm really glad I got some sleep on the plane; otherwise, I wouldn’t have handled this conversation as well given the time of day. On the other hand, I'm enjoying seeing Lisbon again. It feels like home. I smile when Lucy parks in front of the family house. It’s a little home that I’ve always been particularly fond of. We’re far from the city, and there’s a small beach just behind it. I’ve always found this place to be peaceful. Lucy must think the same, judging by the way she looks at the house with wonder.

- "You must be starving," says my grandfather as he gets out of the car. "I’ll go make you both some breakfast. Ona, why don’t you show her around the house while you wait?"

- "Yeah," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Yeah, of course. Thanks."

We get out as well, and I smile as I watch Lucy taking it all in. It feels strange to see her here, far from our obligations, but especially at my place. I finally feel like her girlfriend and not just her student.

- "Not bad, huh?" I ask, nudging her playfully.

- "It’s beautiful, indeed," she says with a small smile. "Is this the family home?"

- "Yeah... This was my dad’s last home," I confess.

- "Really?" she raises an eyebrow.

- "Yeah. He came back to live here after... my grandmother passed away and my parents divorced."

- "I see," she nods. "It’s a lovely place, though," she whispers. "You must have a lot of memories here."

- "Oh yes..." I breathe.

I squeal in surprise as we’re interrupted by a ball of fur that literally jumps on me. Lucy bursts out laughing and crouches down to greet the dog, who quickly forgets about me.

- "I can’t believe it! A little petting, and he’s off to someone else," I grumble, making my girlfriend smile.

- "Good thing humans aren’t like that. So, aren’t you going to introduce me?" she teases. "It’s an Australian Shepherd, isn’t it?"

I laugh, shaking my head.

- "Yes, that’s right. Let me introduce you to Buzz, the youngest member of the family. Well, sort of!" I giggle.

- "Wow. He seems like such a sweet dog."

I tilt my head with a smile, noticing she’s clearly no longer paying attention to me at the moment. Oh, so she really loves dogs, huh? Another thing I didn’t know. I crouch down too and finally manage to get the dog’s attention, along with Lucy’s.

- "Do you like dogs?" she asks me.

- "I do, yes. I didn’t know you were such a fan."

- "Oh, I love them, but they need a lot of attention, unfortunately."

- "That’s true."

I start petting Buzz too. I missed him. My dad wanted to get a dog so my grandfather wouldn’t be alone when he was away on missions. My grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but in the end, he’s the one most attached to Buzz.

- "Maybe we could consider getting one."

I look up at Lucy in surprise.

- "Really?"

- "Well, why not? Maybe not right away, but once we see how our schedule is next year. If everything works out, we could get one."

- "Definitely, yes!"

I nod enthusiastically, making Lucy laugh. It would be a great first step toward commitment.

- "Alright," she says, standing up.

- "I should really show you around the house," I announce, standing up too.

We grab our bags and head inside. It feels strange being here again... The last time I was, my dad was still around. It’s bittersweet because I’ve always loved his rustic style. Lucy must have noticed my change in mood because she gently places her hand on my back.

- "Will you show me our room?"

I smile shyly and nod. From where we’re standing, we can see the living room, but I lead her upstairs to our left instead. Lucy follows closely behind. The house isn’t very big, but it has three bedrooms and a bathroom just on the upper floor. Mine is at the end. When we walk through the door, we’re greeted by a room flooded with light from a large bay window that opens onto a small terrace, almost as small as my room itself. It’s barely big enough for a bed and a wardrobe, but it’s more than enough. I chose this room because I fell in love with the view of the sea. I’ve lost count of how many times I left the curtains open just to wake up to that view, accompanied by the sound of the waves. It feels like paradise. Nothing has been moved, yet I can tell everything is clean. My grandfather must have taken the time to tidy up.

"It’s lovely," she whispers, pulling me out of my memories. "Is that your dad? »

I nod as she points to a picture of us. To be honest, it's the last one we took together. We were in the back, by the sea, and he tried to throw me into the water when we had just arrived here. In the end, it made for a beautiful shot, taken by my grandfather.

"You look a lot like him," she says with a small, sad smile. "How about we take a walk this afternoon? We can visit his grave while we're at it."

"Really?" I reply, surprised. "I mean, I don't want to burden you with that. I would have done it another time, like when you go for your morning run."

"Don't be silly. I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."

I smile softly and nod. I didn't want to pressure her, but if it's her idea, I won't say no.

"Okay... Thank you."

"It's nothing. You seem uneasy... Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. It's just strange to be here..."

"You haven't been back since?"

"No," I admit. "We came back for the funeral, but..."

I take a deep breath. She has a right to know, after all.

"I didn't have the courage to set foot here again. I made my mom book us hotel rooms."

She nods in understanding.

"Come here."

She opens her arms, and I immediately snuggle into her embrace. She kisses my forehead, holding me tightly.

"It’ll be okay, alright? He wouldn't want to see you like this."

"I know... But it's stronger than me."

"Okay," she says, pulling back. "You know what? We didn't come here to mope around, so... How about we plan that stargazing night tonight instead? We can always take that walk another day. I can see you need a distraction."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. If I'd known there was a beach right behind the house, I would've agreed to this sooner. Might as well enjoy it while the weather's nice. It might not last long."

She's amazing... She always finds ways to lift my spirits. I smile and nod. There's no rush now that we're here, but I really like this idea to start things off.

"Great... And what do you say we help your grandfather now? I can already smell waffles, and honestly, I’m starving."

I laugh and nod. If there’s one thing that didn’t go well during the trip, it’s the meals over the past few hours. A good breakfast will do us good.

"Yeah... You're right. You’ll be impressed. His waffles are the best."

"Oh, really? Better than mine?"

"Um... Hard to say... But yes. I’d say so," I tease, grinning.

"Oh, really? I might need to remind you otherwise..."

"Wh-"

I don’t even get to finish my sentence before she attacks me with tickles. I burst out laughing, squirming to escape her grasp, but it's no use. I accidentally pull her down onto the bed, but she still keeps control. I tend to forget just how strong she is.

"S-stop, p-please."

"Oh, now you’re begging?"

I can barely catch my breath. Lucy slows down, but her laughter still echoes in my head.

"So? Are you going to admit my waffles are the best?"

I try to breathe, but giggles still escape. Her fingers hover threateningly over my stomach, as if daring me to give the wrong answer. I grin, deciding to play along.

"I’m not changing my mind," I say with exaggerated seriousness.

Her mock-offended expression makes me smile like an idiot. I love when we’re like this together.

"Oh yeah? And what should I do to change your mind, huh? Oh, I think I know..."

I laugh as her lips brush against my neck.

"Please. You can’t torture me like this."

"Oh really?" she whispers. "I think I’m the only one who has the right to torture you like this."

I wrap my arms around her neck. I can’t help it. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to start tickling me again, this time under my shirt. The sneaky move leaves me laughing uncontrollably, unable to defend myself.

"S-stop, stop! Okay, okay, you win! Yours are the best! Yours are the best!"

The torture stops at my pleas. The next moment, her lips meet mine, and I immediately relax. I laugh as I try to catch my breath. She really is the one I need, no doubt about it.

"See? That wasn’t so hard."

"Girls?" my grandfather calls out. "Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry."

"Well, look at that. We didn’t even get to help your grandpa."

"He’ll survive," I murmur before kissing her.

I wrap my legs around her waist, but Lucy doesn't seem to agree. Though she chuckles, she gently pushes them away.

"Sweetheart..."

"What?" I laugh. "He can wait two more minutes."

"Okay," she sighs.

She kisses me back. I smile as I feel her hand caressing my stomach. She doesn’t even realize how much she drives me crazy... or maybe she does, judging by the way I move my hips against her.

"Not here, and definitely not now," she teases. "We need to go down."

"But!"

I groan in protest, making her laugh softly. She’s so adorable, looking at me with her head tilted. Her eyes drift down my body, and I realize my shirt is pushed up to my chest. I quickly pull it down, which brings her gaze back to my face.

"If I don’t get to, neither do you."

"Oh, you’re like that now?"

"Yep. Too bad for you. You’re missing out."

I get up from the bed and walk down the hallway, purposely swaying my hips for her to watch. I can hear her laughing behind me, which makes me turn around to stick my tongue out at her. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to catch up and grab my butt at that exact moment.

"Don’t worry, I plan to take care of that during this vacation," she whispers to me.

"Really?" I reply, breathless. "If you stick to your rule of no hooking up under family roofs, we won’t be doing much of anything."

"Who said it would be in a bed?"

Her comment stops me at the top of the stairs. Did I hear that right? Where did my innocent girlfriend go!? It’s her turn to tease me with a playful smile as she walks into the living room where my grandfather is waiting for us. Oh my God. We’ve only just started our vacation, but I don’t know why, I feel like this will be the best one we’ve ever had. Then again, we came here... there's no other word. We understand each other, we live together. I’ve never had it so easy with anyone else. My father was right. In life, you only meet one true love. It doesn’t matter how many people come before or even after... but there’s only one, and you feel it instantly. You just have to be lucky enough to find them. I think I knew from the first day what Lucy would mean to me. I was scared at first. After all, we each tried to push the other away with all our strength... But once again, my father was right. You can’t avoid the inevitable. Fate wanted us to be together, and here we are. One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to repeat my parents' mistakes. Lucy is going to be my priority, and I’ll make sure to nurture our relationship. It’s my turn to show her she deserves the world. Smiling, I join her as she’s already deep in conversation with my grandfather about old cars. Yeah, this woman is perfect.

[ankhisms]

Hi everyone temporary pinned post... my concussion has gotten worse and so i am once again needing to focus on resting & recovering and having EXTREMELY limited screen time, so im pretty much not going to be online here until its okay for me to be looking at screens for a long time without any worries about me getting possible brain damage. I pretty much got grabbed by the scruff like a cat by my boss and coworkers who were like "rey youre pushing yourself way too hard to try and do stuff this is very concerning and you need to be focusing on resting and doing nothing else" and they were right i have been pushing myself too hard without even really realizing it which has worsened my condition.

If were mutuals and you dont have my discord feel free to ask for it although im really only checking my phone for messages once or twice a day in order again to be safe with limiting my screen time while im recovering. feel free to send me any art/other creative projects or importany posts you make that youd like me to see or boost, i promise im not ignoring anyone i just am literally trying to avoid getting actual brain damage as i recover from this head injury.

I should hopefully be recovered enough to be back to looking at screens in maybe a week or so! Take care, be good to yourselves and to others. I love u all, thank u for understanding <3

[lovelyflora21]

I hate everyone else in the world (but you)

Summary: Drunk and in pain, Leon had an affinity for saying things he might not have meant to. Twice he did so. One was able to offer solace and comfort, the other the opposite. 

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: TW! Alcohol abuse, slight mentions of PTSD, depression. Angst. Hurt. 

A/n: Hello! So this is my first attempt at writing again after such a long ass hiatus and break! This is also my very first (and hopefully not the last) attempt on writing a fic for Leon lol, this one’s gonna be a bit angsty! I wrote this with Vendetta!Leon and DI!Leon in mind, inspired by that one TikTok audio from Euphoria’s Rue and Jules’ scene and her infamous quote with TV Girl’s Not Allowed, playing in the background. 

Hopefully you guys will like this one as much as I like writing it! Enjoy!

Wc: 1.5k

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

Was what Leon had drunkenly told her once. So lost in his drunken stupor that he’d blurted out those words in a brief moment of vulnerability and honesty. He might’ve as well said those three words instead. But it was the truth, and Leon S Kennedy was no liar. He was never good with lies anyways, why try now? And in response, she simply gave him that God-forsaken half smile of hers. Leon remembered vividly, despite being shit-faced drunk, how she simply shook her head then helped him off the couch to clean up. 

I know. She whispered, more like to herself than to him. Then everything else after that was a blur. 

It was sort of a routine. After that particular nightmare of a mission, Leon would drown himself in endless bottles of Jack Daniels or whatever alcoholic beverage he could lay his hands on. He was pretty much banned from the local bar he’d frequented so often, and no for the record, it wasn’t because he’d start up unnecessary shit–no. It was because of how much he’d drunk; to the point that the bartenders and keepers made it a point that they were concerned with the amount of alcohol he’d swallow in one seating. 

Concerned. Leon finds it rather funny and ironic, in a way that; bars made money from selling alcohol to anyone who would be drinking them and yet here he was, getting banned all because they were concerned with him? He was a regular, he didn’t mind burning his money on alcohol! They should have been grateful! He was a regular, a paying one at that and he doesn’t start up shit! They were making money! And yet, he got banned anyway. 

In reality, concerned was an understatement…

So he figured, what the hell right? He’s just gonna find an alternative, buy some from the local bodega or some shit and get shit-faced drunk in the comforts of his somber and dark, shitty apartment. 

The apartment was fine before all this, decorated it minimalistically so he didn’t have too much stuff piling up and it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to look after; but after the–after it happened, he just didn’t care enough to look after the damn place. Hell, he barely looked after himself. Leon was barely even showering. He’d shower once every two or three days, and didn't even care at all if people were giving him weird and funny looks for how disheveled he looked. Leon used to be pretty active and social, he would go for a light jog every morning before work or in the evenings after work, then shower and have dinner or maybe go on dates with her. But now? Now, his routine consisted of waking up in the middle of the day, eat whatever leftover was in the fridge, go back to sleep, wake up again then get so drunk he could barely remember anything then pass out on the couch then wake up with the worst hangover and repeat the same damned thing all over again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. 

It wasn’t helping him at all that the DSO was putting him on a temporary break too. He’d honestly much prefer to be sitting on his desk working on reports than rotting and wasting away like this. 

But then she caught wind of this. This revelation. That the great, brave and strong Leon S Kennedy; the renowned agent that helped rescue the President’s Daughter and formed the DSO, has now become lessened to that of a drunk alcoholic. So jaded and bitter with the loss of his–no, no, he became jaded after, after…after it happened. That he resorted to alcohol rather than face his issues head on. Rather than see a shrink and work on it.

So the first time she came back around, it wasn’t easy. To have her, his muse, his flower, the only innocent and untouched being in his life, sees him this messed up and broken. He lashed out at her at first, then he broke down. For the first time. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was finally able to cry. 

It’s okay, cry it out, let it all out. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go. I got you. 

Then he looked into her eyes and said it. 

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

And the rest was history.

Then it was another new routine for him. She was always there, looking after him…looking after the place. Made sure he was eating, made sure he’d get cleaned up, made sure he was sleeping properly. 

But he still couldn’t get over his drinking problems. Not anytime soon it seems…

Other people would have already abandoned him by now. Said it was all in vain, said he’d destroy her before he could ever get better. But she, she never gave up on him. 

Until one night…

Leon had promised her, for a day, he wouldn’t touch anything that has alcohol in it and he’d finally go to therapy. It was paid and provided for by the DSO, as they should be. But he didn’t…

He never attended that one session (or the sessions before and after, she should’ve known better), instead that afternoon he went to the nearest bodega and got himself bottles of Jack Daniels. Then he went back home and got shit-faced drunk. Again. Like always. 

And when she came over later in the evening, after she got off work; she was furious. More disappointed than furious, really. To find out that he didn’t go to therapy and he was drunk.

Then it was some back and forth arguing and Leon said some things he didn’t mean to. 

Typical of a drunk, how typical of Leon.

See, the thing is, she was one to believe that; whatever came out from someone’s mouth whenever they were drunk meant that it was the raw and most unfiltered truth they wish they could’ve said out loud sober.

So when Leon said, “What is this now, you think you could nurse me back to the old Leon?! You thought out of all the people in this whole goddamn world, you could be the one to save me from being, from being this?! I tell you what sweetheart, you never cared about me, what you do have is a savior complex!” 

It had been even uncharacteristic of Leon to say those things. And out of all the people he knew, towards her, too. 

Cruel would be an understatement. 

Leon wished he had stopped at that. Wished he had stopped and apologized to her after, but nope. He didn’t. Instead, when he saw her tear-filled eyes and her pursed lips, he went and sprinkle some salt on her wound. 

“What now, you gonna cry and run away? Gonna cut me off too like how you cut off your other friends and exes? Right, you do. Because that’s what you always do! Run away and cut off everyone whoever said an ounce of truth to you, not wronged you–no, the truth!”

Then there was silence, save for his hard and heavy breathing that filled the space. 

Leon remembers and forgets a lot of things. This is one that he’d hate to remember and unable to forget.

He remembered the way she stepped back, looked into his eyes and said it. 

I hate you. 

Then she disappeared from his apartment and disappeared from his life as well, after making it clear that she was done.

He tried reaching out to her, that very same night. Then the days that followed after, the weeks after. After Colorado. After New York. 

She disappeared. Just like that. 

So Leon gave up on looking for her. 

And after a year, he thought he’d already forgotten about her completely. Thought he’d moved on.

He thought, after going to therapy, talking to his friends more and avoiding alcohol as much as possible; he’d finally move past that night. Move past her.

But it seemed he was wrong. 

So when Leon was strolling down the streets of San Francisco during his free time, before his supposed mission–and he thought he’d heard a familiar voice, he couldn’t help but to look towards the source of that angelic voice. Could it be…?

And there she was. Gorgeous as always. Beautiful and bright, warm like the morning’s first ray of sunshine. A basket of flowers and groceries hung on her elbow. 

So she did move away. That’d explain a lot. 

Leon’s body had a mind of its own, approaching her before he could even process everything. 

Hey there.

And suddenly everything came flooding back to him.

I hate everyone else in the world but you

But you, you who I’ve hurt so much more than anyone else in the world. 

You who didn’t deserve the pain I had inflicted upon you. It was unfair. And I am so so so sorry. Wish I could take it all back. You didn’t deserve it. And then there was silence between him and her. Two birds, once of the same feather; and now? Now on opposite ends.

[the-cat-demon]

NOBODY'S SOLDIER IS SOOOO AZIRAPHALE CODED YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW

ok ok so. bare with me, this is entirely my rotted brain being full of the brainrot but i HAVE A POINT HEAR ME OUT

Ok so. hear me out. S3 Aziraphale, trying to keep of appearances, pretending to work on bringing Armageddon 2, while working on his own plan in the background

Running with bulls / Working my miracles / Holding my world together with a boot string

He's trying to execute his plan to stop Armageddon 2 all by himself, without Crowley's help (they're not talking...) scrambling to keep all of it together.

Living the dream / Benzos and gasoline / Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He's doing twice the work, both what the Metatron tells him to do and his own plans.

If I tell you this is drowning / You tell me I'm walking on water

If he were to tell the Archangels (or anyone, really) how stressful and heavy this all is, they'd say he's lucky to be in the position he is, that he should be grateful.

I could bring fire from the mountain / You tell me it feels a little colder When he uses Heaven's time and resources to do actual "good things" and help people, they just scold him for not following the plan.

And I don't wanna choose between being a salesman or a soldier

The only options he has are to be on Heaven's side (until he was promoted, a soldier) or Hell's (the demons tempt humans to sin, like salesmen)

Just let me look a little older / Let me step a little bolder

He puts on a facade, trying to look more like a leader figure the Metatron wants him to look like.

(Don't wanna) Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

Same as the first line of the chorus.

Honey, I'm taking no orders / I'm gonna be nobody’s soldier

Self explanatory.

Sick to my skin / Watching thе news again

With every update on how the Armageddon 2 plans are coming along, he feels worse and worse.

Whatever you choosе you lose out in the long run

Regardless of which side you're on, it won't end well.

The paint on the walls / Come down like a waterfall / The goal I was aiming for was the wrong one

Hopefully at some point he will realise that he shouldn't be trying to fix the system. It's working exactly as intended. The best option is to get rid of it entirely.

I know this is brainrotted as fuck BUT I'M RIGHT

[shinyrhinestones]

Loved in the night

Summary: Elle comforts Reader after her mother gets hospitilazed.

Pairing: Elle Greenaway X BAU!Fem!Reader.

Genre: Fluff, smut and angst.

NSFW.

Category: Oneshot

Warnings: Sickness, food, drinks. Oral (reader rec), petting, making out. Also Reader has a mum living in the US.

Also this is a draft from a long time ago. I’m not perfect at writing, and Especially not at smut, so yeah 🤷‍♀️ also this was probably written quickly so it probably feels rushed and there’s probably a bunch of grammar mistakes 🫠

———————————————————————

You’ve never really been worried about anything bad happening to your family. They didn’t live as close to you and your job, and you never really worried about their health either. Everything seemed to go well. But you never quite know what to expect. A phone call informing you about your mothers heart attack was a good way to ruin your entire day.

You got permission of your boss to leave for the day, and you rushed to the hospital. The doctor explained how it was going to be all right, and she would recover. You stayed by your mothers side for some time, even though she was unconscious. You still had some things at work to get done. Some files that hadn’t been finished up yet. And even though you were really worried about your mother, you didn’t know what to expect when your work wasn’t done. And as your mother still was unconscious, like She had been for all the time you’d been there, you figured you would hurry back to the bullpen.

You entered the bullpen walking a little slower than normally, and with a frown formed on your face. You walked over to your desk when you were questioned by a coworker. “Y/N, where have you been?” Derek asked, head tilting a little. Honestly, you really didn’t want to tell the truth. You sat down and slouched in your seat. You opened a drawer grabbing a handful of the files you needed to finish, and stuffed them in your bag. You looked up at Derek, and saw how Elle and JJ were now standing behind him aswell. “Uhm..” Was the only thing you managed to say, staring off to the side. “I..I don’t really want to talk about it” You were met with confused looks yet worried, but met with silence. Maybe because you stood up before giving them a chance to react properply, and walked over to Hotch’s office to let him know you were taking the files with you, and that you’ll finish them in time. He of course was surprised why you had returned when you had more important stuff to focus on at the moment.

“I know, Hotch, I do. But I’m so new to this whole thing I just wanna get these done and distract me from the trouble until she wakes up.” You rambled out of worry and a slight panic. “Y/N, it’s okay, go home” Hotch said in a calm yet demanding voice. You nodded and turned around leaving his office. When you walked past Elle’s desk she immediately stood up to catch up with you. “Y/N, What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Normally Elle would’ve let the person walk away. She normally would’ve shrugged, and turned her attention back to whatever she was doing before. But this was something completely different than normal to her. You stopped walking to be able to look her in the eyes, and have a normal conversation. You looked into her brown eyes, letting them study your face. Your heart almost melted at the sight of Elle being concerned for you. As a profiler, you could notice how she actually cared about you. But you never thought more of it, than just being a good friend. Because the thought of her being interessed in you was abnormal. Elle always seemed to good for anything really. And maybe she wasn’t even into girls.

You let your eyes fall down, and you bit the inside of your cheek. Debating on if you should tell her or not. “What is it?” She asked again, knowing something was wrong. Not only did she notice your behaviour, but also how you had visited Hotch’s office twice that day. “My mother had a heart-attack” You sighed, and brushed some of your hair behind your ears. Elle’s eyes softened even more. “Are you going to the hospital?” She asked, trying to meet your eyes. “Well, I have these files to finish, but I also want to be there for my mum when she wakes up, so I might do them in the hospital.” You explained, looking all over the place. Elle nodded along to your words, and almost started to frown herself. “What if I help you with that? We can just take it slow, alright? I'm sure Hotch understands.” She tried to calm you down, as you came of as very troubled and in distress. “Right, yeah. I’m sorry” You hid your face in your hands for a moment, then looked at the dark haired woman again. “Why don’t I help you? Let me take you to the hospital, and then accompany you there. You seem like someone who could do well with some support.” She said, holding your hands and then let them go, when you agreed. She quickly made sure that everything she had to take care of was done, so she could go home already.

——-

Elle went to hospital with you, and sat with you out in the hallway when your mother had to go through some tests. She sat down next to you, and reached you a waterbottle.

“Thank you.” You mumbled and accepted the bottle. But you didn’t open it. You just fiddled with the bottle in both of your hands. Hearing the water squish and the water moving fast in motion. Elle stared at you and your playing. Her eyes were studying you and she couldn’t help but profiling you. But honestly it didn’t take a profiler to know you were sad and down. Elle’s palms were sweaty and she tried to rub it off on her jeans. Elle could be quite a private person. Not one to always accept her company outside of work.

And perhaps you should’ve noticed that as a profiler. But everything in the moment was too overwhelming for you.

Elle rested a hand on your back, trying to show her support. She didn’t really know what to say. Other than admiring you, she of course tried to find the right words to say. But Elle just ended up sighing and left it at that. You didn’t wanna admit it in the moment, but Elles hand on your back made you try really hard not to smile or blush. Luckily, when you sit next to each other in a hospital, you dont see each others faces unless forced by yourselves. Would’ve been really hard to explain why you were smiling, in this situation.

————

And again, Elle wouldn’t let you go home alone. She was the one who convinced you to go home, and get some rest. That rest in the hospital wasn’t that enjoyable. Elle knew what she was talking about.

She drove you home, and while she was sitting in the driver seat, you couldn’t help but admire her features as she was so concentrated. And worried. You saw it in her eyes. It’s always the eyes. She bit her lip as a way to hide her concern.

She walked with you up the stairs to your apartment. Elle seemed like she really didn’t want to let you be alone, cause she could sense how bad you felt. I mean obviously. But between you and Elle, you knew a lot about each other. And that was also a realization for you, when you stood by your own doorstep. Yes, Elle was private, but to you she was more open. You’ve had your fair share of long conversations.

“Elle.” You said softly, looking at her confused. “Yeah.” She looked at you a little surprised, her eyes a little wide. Her mouth slightly open. “Why did you walk up with me here?”. You asked, even though you kinda knew why. “I..Uhm. I don’t know. Do you want me to leave?” She stuttered a bit, and she wasn’t really sure of what you trying to say.

“No.” You shook your head lightly. If you were to be honest, you would tell her how much you actually wanted her to stay. How much you wanted her close. That she should show you all her care and love for just one night. If that wasn’t too much to want.

But you were shy. And you also felt like it was weird behaviour. Even though, it wasn’t weird of you for wanting her.

You welcomed Elle inside and she complimented your apartment. You smiled lightly and thanked her.

—-

After a nice dinner made by both you and Elle, you decided you wanted to sleep. But you both knew you couldn’t sleep. Even after all of the good laughter Elle gave you for the evening, it was still hard not to worry. Elle asked you if she should stay the night, and you accepted. You didn’t want to be alone.

It was good that Elle distracted you with funny storytimes and jokes, making you both laugh. She made you distracted. You layed under the covers, your legs touching now and then. And everytime, you wondered how Elle felt about it. Cause to you, it wasn’t enough. Elle took your hand, when your laughter died down. And your eyes met for a moment. Elle was bold. You knew that. Elle took risks, and sometimes you could get so angry at her for it, with the job you had.

Elle was too afraid of saying anything. She let her thumb work around your hand, as a distraction for herself. You already felt like this way more intimate for two friends and colleagues. She scooted closer, and you smiled gently at her in the dark. But Elle was so close, she saw it. “What?” She smiled herself, and her eyes shined with being intrigued. “You’re close.” You answered shortly. Her eyes changed from shining brightly, to being afraid. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She tried pulling back, but you squeezed her hand in a second, and she stopped moving.

“What?” She blurted out.

“I don’t mind.” You explained. She relaxed her tensed up muscles, and you heard her sigh of relief. “Okay.” She whispered. “Elle..” Her eyes found yours again, and she could hear your soft breathing in the dark room. The only sounds besides that were the other people in the apartment block getting ready for bed aswell. But it was faint, and perhaps only your upstairs neighbour. Or the sounds of cars passing by out on street. In a swift motion, she let her lips touch yours in a gentle quick kiss. She wanted your reaction. And the one she got, was you pulling her back down, to kiss again. More this time.

Elle let her arms wrap around you. Her left arm around your waist, while your right arm took a hold of her shoulder. She sat up just a little, by supporting herself on her right elbow. She gave you a long kiss, pulled away and then curtly kissed down your neck before her fingers sneaked under the covers. She let her hand roam across your figure, before they went under your tanktop. Elle looked at you in the silence now between you, and you gave her a slight smile.

Her hand went up to your breast, letting her hand softly and quickly slide across, and then down to your abdomen. She leaned down again, to let your lips touch again. You sighed into the kiss, like everything had been resolved. All your thoughts about Elle had been answered, and now you were just lost in the moment. Elle’s fingers snuck under the waistband of your panties, and let the tip of her finger softly settle on your clit.

You had one of your hands on Elle’s cheek, by her hair. And the other hand was around her shoulderblade. She pulled away, and you both got some air, from a heated kiss. Elles kisses were steady yet passionate. Like she kissed with all of her admiration, mixed with being certain of herself and her love.

Your head rested further into your cold pillow, as Elle rubbed her finger in gentle circles. You let out almost silent whines for everytime she rubbed. Cutting yourself off. “Are you okay?” She asked, knowing that this might be too much of a step already. “Yeah, Elle. I’m okay. I just really want you right now.” You admitted honestly. And she moved up on her knees right between your legs. “Okay.” She almost smiled, but she knew this was a moment where you needed to feel serious.

She slided down your underwear completely, and reached down. Laying herself down. She kissed where she could reach before going to one of your most sensitive places. She carefully and gently, let her tongue rest against your clit. She got less and less careful as she felt like you were getting more worked up. Her hands held onto you, of course. Your hands gripped onto the quilt, she had moved to the side, before she laid down on the madrass for you. “Mhm-“ you were a little aware of your sounds, as it was getting late and you didn’t want any complaints. She kept her soft licks, roaming around with her tongue. Her fingers carefully rested at your entrance before she let the slide in.

You let out a moan louder than you meant to. But the feeling of her was too good. She looked up but didn’t even get a look at you cause it was so dark. But she could you tensing up, and at that she let her lips suck at your clit, as your hands clenched the white quilt.

Elle could only hear her name and your soft breathing and whines. She still tried not to smile too much, as she could feel you weren’t ready to let go. She let her fingers curl inside you, and find her rhythm. One of your hands gripped her hair, and you felt it all crash down on you at once, when you felt her like that between your thighs. And with a moan cutting off the other, you felt your back arch, as your muscles got tighter. You let go off Elles hair, and let your hand rest against the bed again. Elle kept going until she felt your high wearing off. You opened your eyes, which you had barely been able to keep open. Elle sat up, after her fingers slid out again, and she sat down next to you.

She gave you a long kiss, and you sighed yet again.

However, Elle didn’t think of herself in this moment, but you wanted more of her.

[skrunksthatwunk]

thinking about how eiji's a pole vaulter and how ash talks about eiji "flying" and how eiji's associated with bird imagery and how eiji's free (unlike ash) and how eiji comes in on a plane and leaves on a plane and how ash cannot fly, ash cannot be free, how nyc is ash's prison, and how ash is the leopard who dies climbing the mountain, unable to live at such elevation, how he was trying to reach the sky and be free but was always stuck to the earth, how he chose to die instead of climbing back down, how he chose to die where he could see the sky and hope and freedom almost like a bird with eiji's letter right in front of him rather than letting everything go wrong and ruin it once again, how eiji's a failed pole vaulter anyway, how a bad fall ruined his career and grounded him (physically and emotionally), how it took flying to america and meeting ash and needing to save him and skip for him to try flying again, how he landed hard and harsh and still the thought of that escape compelled ash to protect eiji at all costs because if he could fly that means something to him, even if he doesn't think he can fly, how eiji is the manifestation of his hope and how when he breaks and asks eiji to stay with him a while he folds himself over his legs and weighs him down and traps him and grounds him, how ash fights like hell to keep eiji alive not because he thinks he can be like him (hopeful, flying, innocent), but because he makes him forget the gravity of his situation, and so he can see eiji fly again. how he wants to see him escape. how eiji is a bird and ash is a wildcat and how ash never once saw eiji as prey. how eiji never saw ash as a predator. how it is eiji's naivete that first endears ash to him, how it is his freedom and flight and removal from darkness and his ability to leave that darkness that really roots eiji in ash's blood as something essential to him keeping on living in this hell of nyc. how it is that distance from the violence and that hope for the future that ash chooses to surround himself in as he dies. how ash dies in a dream because he feels more than anything that he can't fly like eiji, that he can never leave. how his violence is a part of him and will be forever, how it weighs him down. how he wants to enjoy the view from the mountainside rather than looking up from the ground below. as if they can both fly. as if he is with him up there and not grounded. eye-to-eye with what he can't have, seeing eiji's homeland: the sky. how he dies trying to reach the top because he couldn't take retreating and trying again. how ash, tired and tired and tired and convinced it will go on forever if he crawls back down the mountain, chooses to close his life deluged in eiji, in eiji's insistence that they can fly together, in eiji's hope for him and for them, in eiji's beautiful dream. how ash dies without trying to realize that dream. how ash, in dying, destroys it.

[waitineedaname]

i love the bingge extra because it's like

the horror of realizing you're the dark universe version of yourself. the injustice of seeing this other version of yourself be happy and loved, seeing him be treated with such gentle tenderness from a person who only ever treated you with cruelty

bad sex.

[oozeandgoo-art]

drew my ocs again. STILL can't draw Taran's human face but whatever, if he's just holding something in front of it we can't tell, right? Right?

Nakey version under the cut so you can see all the pretty textures I put on Haven.