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#if anyone recognizes their gifs here tell me and I will tag you
la-pheacienne · 1 year
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Neither Daemon nor Rhaenyra never actually spoke words "I love you/her/him" about each other. it is not an accusation, just a note. At what moment do you think their feelings changed from familial to romantic and they realized it? I think Rhaenyra had a teenage crush on him even in ep 1. But he probably realized something only in episode 4.
Ohhh this is actually an interesting question anon. Rhaenyra just called Daemon "my love" and said "I want you uncle" and then "I need you" and it's true, nobody said I love you.
So big disclaimer. When you follow a story and a particular fictional romantic couple you always need to pay attention to the context. Context is everything. You can also call it interior logic of the story. Every story has one, and you need to keep that in mind if you want to decide how to feel about certain things.
So the context of that particular story is that you have a little girl, raised in an incestuous family and in an era where girls got married very very young, so they started looking for spouses even younger. This girl has a very cool oncle that gives her a lot of attention and also has all the qualities she admires in a partner, but she can't have for herself because she is a girl. He also happens to be hot. So girl falls for said uncle very very early on. That's canon, no doubt about that, it's obvious even in the show that she is smitten as a teenager.
Then you have a man who has been raised in an incestuous family, who is very loyal to said family and has this burden of not being recognised enough as a second son. This man has a niece that he loves and probably very early on considered that she could be a great partner when she grew older, a partner worthy of him, but unfortunately he got married to someone he didn't choose because politics. Then that niece begins to actually resemble him, in all the ways that matter, and he admires her indépendance and firey personality, he understands that they actually have so much in common and that she sees him, truly. She is also hot. So he's like, wait, not only this girl could be a great partner on paper, I actually want her to be my partner in life. We are meant to be.
And they are. Rhaenyra wants a strong Targaryen by her side, a male warrior and Dragonrider like herself, that is absolutely loyal to her. Daemon wants a strong Targaryen by his side, a powerful Queen and Dragonrider like himself, who is not afraid of him but instead embraces him completely and gives him the family acceptance he craved for. Being Targaryens, they are fucked up in the head, obviously (context) and they are also rulers, so there will be fights and competition and ugliness and spite and maybe cheating but in the context they are meant to be. He dies for her and his family.
So love? What does "I love you" mean after this? I believe it could sound a little corny to say that in their context. I believe that they absolutely love each other but it's better to show it by actions and in the narrative, and not by words. Then we also have this kind of shit
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So why do we need an "I love you"?
But to answer your question specifically, I believe that Rhaenyra was smitten with him first, then he was smitten with her when he saw her in 1x04 (before he was just entertaining the idea but not in a serious way) then they made out and both realised that they are actually in love, then shit got real very quickly and after many many years they were finally be able to become one. That's it. This blog does not accept any pedo grooming shit, nor Daemon is only after the throne shit. This is crackhead territory and I won't even bother explaining why. Just look at them and watch the show (this is not at all addressed to you anon, it's a general advice).
Btw the GIFs are not mine, some of them are by @lady-phasma but not all, I hope you will forgive me because I'm trying to spread the word of God here.
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preciousamethyst · 7 months
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✧Synopsis: This job is not worth it. Not in the slightest but it pays the bills. Pays the bills and leaves you with barely anything to spend. That's when you got the idea to become a Camgirl. You thought that someone wouldn't be able to recognize you but so far everything is fine. Little did you know someone you knew very well was watching every single stream and takes in everything that you do.
✧Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Camgirl Reader, Geto wears glasses and has a tattoo, Geto is reader's boss, mentions of mast., toy(s) mentioned, D in V, having a little taste if you know what I mean, names{princess, honey, love, pretty girl, $lut}, sir kink, praise, etc.
✧A/N: Finally posting this after a month of having this in my drafts lol. That aside thank you so much @kazushawty for letting me join your 5k Collab. I'm so excited to participate and I had a lot of fun writing this fic.
✧Tags: @rav3nmuse @loveupeople @teddybeerz @vmpz8sauceee @rayemelanin @hannas16 @thatwasntverycashmoneyofme @blackloki @asensitivecookie @plaxxxie @soulaanshere @buddhas-bunny @yumekobicth @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @blkwriters Wanna Join?
✧Word Count:~4.8k+
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Another day of sitting within the gray walls of your cubicle with nothing but a small pile of papers to go through. All you could hear was the typing from the other surrounding cubicles and phones ringing here and there. Turning your head, you looked at the clock that was hanging behind you. “Just one more hour and I can leave this forsaken place” you sighed deeply. Getting your earbuds out of your bag you put them in your ears.
No one bothers you around this time, so you are free to do as you please. Before you can press play to start your work playlist you hear a knocking noise. You pulled one earbud out of your ear as you spun the chair around. “Heyyyyy you got a second?” You laughed as you saw who it was peeking his head in the entrance of your workspace.
“Yes Gojo what is it this time? Another rumor you got to tell me?” you asked jokingly. Gojo started to scoot in on his rolling chair and parked right beside you. “Nah nothing today I’m afraid but I just wanted to ask you if you are going to be filming tonight.” You quickly looked up at him and put your finger towards your lips.
“Hey not so loud. I don’t need anyone else asking about it let alone knowing about it.” Gojo put his elbow on your desk as he crossed his legs. “Don’t worry about it. No one will find out. Besides I’m your one and only trusted moderator so your “secret” is safe with me” he reassures. His famous white smile puts you at ease.
“Thanks for the reassurance because you know I only trust you with this sort of thing. Now is there anything else you want to ask me?” Out the corner of your eye you saw him just grinning as he shook his head.
“Nope that’s all. Well, I better get going before I get in trouble for leaving my desk again” he snickered. You just laughed as you heard the sound of his chair rolled out of your cubicle and into his which was across from yours. Putting your ear bud back in you began to file all the papers in the small pile next to you.
Soon the last hour of your shift has passed, and you can finally leave this boring place. You can’t wait to get home and record. Usually on nights like this is when your top supporter, CookieLicker_27, was in your streams, and they just blow up your notifications with high donations. They showed up randomly one night and ever since you always looked forward to seeing them in the chat.
Shutting down your computer and grabbing your things you walked towards the elevator on the other side of the floor. You pushed the button on the elevator and the doors suddenly opened. As you look into the elevator your eyes meet your boss’s, Mr. Geto Suguru.
“Evening Mr. Suguru” you said softly as you walked onto the elevator. He didn’t say a word as the elevator doors closed and the elevator began to go down again. The ride down was quiet aside from the cliché elevator music.
The air around you began to thicken, and you could feel yourself sweating a little. Never have you been in his presence for this long—only a few seconds tops when you would run into him randomly. Mr. Suguru was a man you found incredibly attractive, and you can’t help but have a little crush on him. His long hair either in a ponytail or on rare occasions you would see his hair in its long natural state.
Whenever he walked past you the smell of his cologne would fill your nose. The smell of it always touched that one spot deep inside your soul. The glasses that perch on the bridge of his nose made him look so professional, but you wonder what he would look like without them. Even though you don’t see him very often he has a grip on your heart.
You were in your own little world as you stood next to him but then your thoughts were interrupted by his voice. “I need you in my office tomorrow evening. There is something important I need to discuss with you.” Your heart dropped at those words. The elevator made a ding noise as it reached the first floor, and the doors slowly opened.
You were just about to question him why, but he was already walking away pushing up his glasses on his face. Slowly walking off the elevator and towards your car your mind was dancing around the idea of why he wants to see you in his office. Along with why he wants you to be there in the evening.
You were so puzzled and the more puzzled you got the more anxious you became. The thought of you getting laid off came across your mind but it couldn’t be that. Could it? Getting inside your car that’s all you could think about on your way home.
The closer you got the more you just wanted to crash down onto your bed and get some sleep. Driving along the familiar sidewalk you came to a stop and parked. You sighed deeply as you opened the car door with your keys and bag in hand. Making sure the door is locked you made your way to your one-bedroom apartment.
It wasn’t super fancy, but it was a roof over your head, so you are grateful. Walking up to your door you unlocked it and went inside. The feeling of the cool air felt nice along with your plug-ins you have around the place to put you at ease.
Sliding off your shoes where you stood you locked the door and walked straight to your bedroom. Your bed was untouched just like you left it this morning. Tossing your bag gently onto the bed you walked toward your desk and turned on your computer.
It doesn’t take you long to get ready, but you aren’t in the mood. Remembering that your boss said he wanted to see you tomorrow evening you decided to set the timer for the following evening at the same time. That is enough time for you to get back into the groove of things.
After you changed it you logged out and turned off your computer. Out of nowhere you got the strangest feeling. You didn’t understand why but it’s probably nothing. Looking at your phone you noticed a text message from Gojo.
Gojo: Change of plans?
You wondered what he meant but then you remembered he is your moderator so he can make changes just like you can.
You: Yeah I’m not feeling it tonight. Maybe after tomorrow night I’ll be up for it.
Gojo: Aww what’s the matter princess? Something happened?
You were hesitant to tell him what happened when you left an hour prior, but he is your best friend after all.
You: I ran into Mr. Suguru in the elevator, and he told me he needed to see me tomorrow evening.
Gojo: Why?
You: I don’t know. I haven’t done anything wrong, and all my paperwork is caught up. So, I’m wondering why too.
Gojo: Maybe you are getting a raise from all the hard work you do. So don’t worry I’m sure it’s nothing.
You: See that’s why you are my best friend Gojo. You have such a way with words.
Gojo: Damn right I am. No one can take my place.
You: Lol you are too much but that’s why I love you too. Now we need to go to bed because we both got work in the morning.
Gojo: Ugh don’t remind me but you’re right. At least I have you at work otherwise I would’ve quit a long time ago.
You: Goodnight Gojo lol. See you in the morning.
Gojo: Goodnight💋.
You laughed as you gazed at the last text message he sent. Hopping out of your chair you put your phone on your nightstand before you walked into the bathroom to take a relaxing shower. Turning the handle, you assessed the water as it flowed out of the faucet. Making sure it was to your liking, you undressed and stepped inside.
As you gently massaged your favorite body wash all over your body his words began to repeat inside your head.
‘I need you in my office tomorrow evening. There is something important I need to discuss with you.’
As you rinsed off the soap off your body you decided to let it go and continue getting ready for bed. Soon you begin to feel sleep take over your body. You stood up from sitting on top of the toilet to brush your teeth and do your face routine. Even with your body feeling tired you always make sure to do this before leaving the bathroom.
Once you were done you walked out and pulled back your comforter and sheets from your bed. After laying your body down onto the mattress you could feel every muscle in your body now starting to relax even more. Even with your thoughts runny in your head sleep overcame it and you drifted off to sleep within minutes of shutting your eyes.
~Many Hours Later~
Getting up this morning was a pain as you got ready for work. Now that you are here you wish you could’ve called out. All you wanted to do was stay in bed, but you had to be here in order to get your money’s worth. Luckily today wasn’t busy so you could do anything you wanted in your cubicle. Gojo was mostly with you in your cubicle but that’s normal during times like these.
Looking at the clock on your wall you saw it was about a quarter to eight. You didn’t make sense of it besides it was almost time for you to go home. That’s until Gojo said something. “Say are you still nervous about meeting with the boss after your shift?” he asked taking a bite of his leftover sandwich.
You felt a sudden chill go up your spine when he said that. Totally forgetting about that you sighed heavily. “I guess that’s a yes.” You rubbed the side of your head as now you began to get all those thoughts flooding back into your mind.
“Hey, relax like I said last night I’m sure everything is fine. Besides if anything happens you know I’m there for you.” Hearing those words, you felt some relief come over you. Gojo seeing a small smile upon your face was enough for him to let him know he made you feel somewhat better.
As time went on you began to pack up your things and shut down your computer like you normally do. You have never been to his office before, but you do know it’s on the top floor of the building. Walking out of your cubicle you began to walk to the elevator with Gojo by your side.
He agreed to get on with you and then see you off. That made you feel even better so hopefully when you get there you won’t freeze up from nervousness. As the elevator doors opened it was empty so you and Gojo walked inside. You pushed the top number on the panel and that’s when the doors slowly closed. The same elevator music from last night began to play and you started to get a little anxious.
“Don’t worry you’ll be fine” Gojo says to you. You took a deep breath and let his words from earlier repeat in your mind. The more you did the more you began to calm down again. Just in time too because the elevator doors slowly opened up. “Text me when you get home okay?”
You nodded your head as you walked off the elevator into what seems like a waiting room. Looking behind you saw the doors beginning to close, but Gojo had his thumbs up. A little giggle slipped from your lips as you walked forward. It was really clean with tiled floors and a unique set of chairs placed around a coffee table in the middle of the room.
It looked beautiful with the dimmed lights and there was a huge window where you could see the lights of the city. As you were about to sit down you heard a door open to your right. You looked over to see your boss, but he looked different. His hair was down, his glasses weren’t on his face, and he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned a little but not too much.
“Thank you for coming please step inside.” His voice sounded different too. It was a little deep, but it was still normal. Walking towards the door you kept calm as you walked past him. You could smell the same cologne he wore last night. It was much stronger, and it made your pussy twitch.
As you walked inside Geto was getting a few glances of what you were wearing. A nice blouse that was paired with a pencil skirt that stopped above your knees. He loved it when you would wear skirts like that when he would see you occasionally. “Have a seat and we’ll get started.” You did as you were told while he shut the door and locked the door to his office.
Your eyes began to wonder around his office from his desk that had a laptop to the well-cared for plants in the corners of the room. Taking a seat in the leather chair you made yourself comfortable. Geto was walking beside you and he looked down to see your skirt rose showing more of your thighs.
“I’m glad you could make it here tonight because I have something to talk to you about.” The tone in his voice sounded serious but you kept calm. As you looked into his eyes he turned the laptop on his desk around and when you looked at the screen you felt your heart drop to your stomach.
There on the screen was the website you would use to record your cam sessions. Along with that is your account and the last live you made a few days ago playing right on screen. The sound was low, but you could still hear it.
“Care to tell me about this? You know something like this isn’t proper especially in this line of work.” ‘How did he find out?’ you thought in your head. Your heart began to beat a little faster as your nerves were going a little haywire. He could see your expression and he knew you were speechless.
“You know I can fire you at this moment, but I won’t. Especially being your top supporter, I don’t know if I could live with myself if I let you go.” Now you were confused. “Ummm Mr. Suguru what do you mean?”
He chuckled at your question as he pointed to the laptop. “Look in the top right corner. Doesn’t that name look familiar?” You slightly pulled yourself up to get a better look. As your eyes scanned over the name you couldn’t believe it. Reading the name over and over again thinking it would change but that’s not happening. “You’re CookieLicker_27?”
A smile crept upon his face as he looked at you. “Yes I am. The same user that has been giving you the highest donations on every cam session. Glad I did because it seems it was put to good use.” He snickered at the end of his sentence, and you knew what he meant by that. Some of the donation money you would get groceries and the rest you would use to buy new toys to test out on your cam sessions.
From different colored plugs to remote controlled vibes, you were experimenting with different things to spice up your lives from time to time. “You know my favorite cam show of yours was when you used that black plug with the purple gem. Your face when you first stuck it in from it being your first time made me wish I were there to see it for myself.”
Geto leaned back into his chair before he opened the desk to pull out something. He held it up in his hand and you couldn’t look away. “Maybe that wish can come true if you be a good girl for me.” He was holding a similar looking plug you used in his hand. “Sir you’re my boss—” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before he held up his hand.
“In another one of your streams that happened a week ago you were talking about how you want to fuck me and wish I would use toys on you. Of course, I don’t blame you for not remembering since you were a little tipsy but if you don’t believe me we can take a look at it right now.” You didn’t need that reminder. He was right—a week ago you were on your day off and decided to have a little drink and stream.
You didn’t realize it at first but when you looked back at the live you heard yourself clear as day that you wanted to fuck your boss. Wishing he would use toys on you instead of yourself. It wasn’t a lie but that was something you wanted to keep to yourself.
As you were stuck in your own thoughts you didn’t see Geto leave his chair to walk behind you. A pair of large hands lay on your shoulders, and they began to move in small circles. “Stand up for me love” he commanded. You didn’t take long to respond as you got up from the chair. Geto now has a view of the back of your thick thighs since you haven’t pulled down your skirt yet.
He was doing his best not to push you onto his desk, but he wanted to take his time with you. Being pulled towards his body you could feel the heat he was giving off. His lips were so close to your ear as he whispered into it. “Don’t feel ashamed honey because I had the same thoughts about you too.”
His hand slowly went under your skirt to caress your thigh. As more your skirt rose the more you could feel his crotch behind you. You could feel something pressing up against you and you didn’t have to guess what it was.
“Let’s get these off of you. You won’t be needing them for what we about to do.” His fingers hooked into the band of your panties. This shouldn’t be happening especially with your boss but gosh you need this right now. As the material was being pulled down you can feel the heat from his breath against your ass. Along with his breath a few kisses were planted on your ass which surprised you.
A chuckle could be heard from him as the material soon landed at your heels. “You are doing a good job so far pretty girl. Now do me a favor—bend over on my desk and spread your legs.” You felt his fingers tap on your thigh as he moved away from you.
You began to move on your own towards his desk feeling your heart race faster. When you got close to the desk you closed the laptop and pushed it to the side. This doesn’t feel real but as your chest touched the dark mahogany desk you realized this was real.
Spreading your legs like you were told you could hear him behind you humming with satisfaction. Before you know it his hands began to massage and pull apart your ass. “Your ass is so much softer and juicer in person.” As he kept spread your cheeks apart he could hear your wetness fill the room. “Oooo seems like your pussy is wetter in person too” he chuckled as he gave your ass another kiss.
Oh, how you wanted to rub the aching feeling where your clit was. As if your mind was being read a familiar hand starts to rub circles on it and you let out a muffled moan. “It’s different when someone else touches you. It feels so much better when it’s someone you want. Am I right love?”
You nodded your head but a sudden smack to your ass rang around the room. “You know how to answer when I ask you a question. So, open your mouth and say it” he spoke softly into your ear. “Y-Y-Yes sir Mr. Suguru.” You knew he was happy with your answer when you felt his other hand play with your clit again.
“Good girl and from here on out call me Geto. No need for the formalities when it’s just the two of us.” He took a small nip on your earlobe as he inched his thumb near your other entrance. With his fingers playing with both entrances, you couldn’t resist but grind against his hand to get more pleasure. That’s when you were given another smack.
“Someone is being a desperate slut I see. So impatient, so needy but I don’t mind it.” His soft lips kissed your shoulder as he rubbed the sore spot on your cheek. This was getting too much for you as you wish he would speed up the process.
Suddenly you felt Geto pull away from you and a small pop could be heard from behind you. A cool wet sensation dropped onto your puckering entrance which makes a quick high pitch moan fall from your mouth. You knew what he was doing as your felt the plug just barely pushing its way inside you.
“That’s it just relax for me baby. This won’t take long” he cooed. The toy began to stretch you out with a slight pinch but before you knew it the plug was sitting nice and snug inside you. Geto took a step back a little to see how it looks and it looks perfect. He bit his lip and hissed at the sight. Your glistening pussy and the pretty purple gem sitting inside your ass.
He separated your ass once more and held it open to and blew air on your wet cunt. Your body shivered which made Geto giggle as he leaned his face forward. The warmth of his tongue landed right on your clit, and he slowly licked you up and down.
He hummed at the taste and slurped at your sweet goodness. You panted and held onto the edge of the desk in front of you. You tried your best to not ride his face, but you decided to stayed still. He came up with a pop and licked his lips.
You felt him tap on your thigh again and you turn your head over to look at him. He was unbuttoning his shirt even more and you could see a tattoo on the right side of his chest. You didn’t know he had one but damn it looks so good on him. The sound of his belt buckle jingled in your ears, and you were so happy that this was finally happening.
“Turn over for me baby. I think we both waited long enough for this” he said deeply. You lifted yourself off the desk and turned around to sit on it. When you looked down he was slowly rubbing himself as he walked towards you. His cock was a nice size and the right amount of girth that makes your mouth drool.
“Geto?” you asked sweetly. Geto hummed as he looked into your eyes waiting for a response. “Please don’t fire me after this.” Geto blinked and then he smirked. “Don’t worry that’s not going to happen. Now be a good employee and present yourself to me.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried not to smile. He could see it and he couldn’t resist smiling himself. You opened your legs and leaned back on his desk. Geto moved in between your legs and teasingly tapped the tip of his cock against your clit.
He leaned down towards you and gave you a quick kiss on your lips. “Breath for me baby” he uttered against your lips. You didn’t get a chance to before he has already inserted him into your tight cavern. You began to feel both him and the plug at the same time and it was a feeling that would never compare to those toys you have at home.
With help of the lube from earlier it was much easier for Geto to slide deeper and deeper until he buried himself as deep as he could. Geto groaned and sighed as he could feel your squishy walls squeeze his shaft. “Fuu-uck” he growled as he started to thrust his hips forward.
You went to cover your mouth, but he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. “Don’t you fucking dare cover your mouth. Let your boss hear how much I make this pussy feel good” he hissed. You never thought you would see this side of him but there is no time to dwell in your thoughts.
His eyes were looking into your hazy ones as he continued to rearrange your insides. As he looked into your eyes he would look down to see your breasts bouncing with each thrust. With his free hand he took your shirt and pulled it up just enough to see him in their glory.
With the same hand he pulled at the cup to let one of your harden buds free. His mouth immediately attached to it, and he slowly ran his tongue over it. Your moans were now falling freely from your lips from the sensations you were feeling. Both of your holes being filled and then his warm mouth and tongue suckling on your breast.
This was way better than the fantasies you would have about him and you be damned if this was the last time you would experience this. The feeling of his warm saliva trailed down your mound then onto your chest. His thrusts so powerful his desk started to move. You doubt someone would be bound to hear you but at this point you didn’t give a damn.
“Geto, Get-Geto” you stuttered. Your mewls didn’t fall on deaf ears as moved to the other breast to give it some loving. His strokes weren’t letting up as your legs began to shake and wrap around his waist. He let’s go of your nipple with a pop and he looked straight into your low eyes.
“I bet you are about to cum huh pretty girl?” he asked. You tried to speak but nothing, but moans came out. “Yeah? Well go ahead and come on my cock like the good slut you are” he grunted. He released your wrists, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck.
You can tell his movements were starting to get sluggish as he pounded your walls with no mercy. The sound of his balls smacking your ass got louder right along with your moans. With a few more thrusts you held him down as your walls so to spasm as you reached your high.
With your insides squeezing him like a vice he pushed himself so deep that you could feel him touching your cervix. Soon came the throbbing as you were getting filled with his cum. Geto kissed you deeply as he painted your insides. As you kissed him you could taste something.
You know he ate you out, but it has a sweeter taste that was familiar to you. As Geto pulled away you could see some of his hair was sticking to his forehead and face. “Geto why do I taste something sweet?” you asked hoarsely. Geto just smiled.
“That wasn’t an ordinary lube. It’s edible with the flavor cookies and crème.” You licked your lips again and he was right. “If you don’t like it I can find us another flavor for us to try for next time.” You hummed as you felt your body relax onto the hot surface of the desk.
“I hope you know this won’t be the last time. I'm expecting more private shows like this in the future. You got that?” You felt his finger press gently into your cheek making you look at him. “Yes s-sir I got it.” Satisfied with your answer he kissed you again letting you taste more of your juices mixed with cookies and crème.
Feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog. Please DO NOT repost or copy any of the stories I create/created anywhere else. ©Precious Amethyst
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proxima-writes · 4 months
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title: my tears ricochet | part i
pairing: husband's best friend!joel miller x female reader
rating: chapter - t; full work - explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 7k
summary: after moving from new york to texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. when he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, joel miller, to help you instead.
you weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
author's note: this story is a three part fic inspired by the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift. this first part is reader's POV, part two will be joel's POV, and the third part will be dual POV. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!
chapter tags: modern au, infidelity, emotional abuse, the fiance is shitty, no use of y/n, single POV (reader), wedding dress shopping and other wedding planning activities, angst, arguing, alcohol consumption/mention, kissing, no smut. please let me know if i've missed any!
major work tags: modern au, infidelity, explicit sexual content, character death
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You stare out at the manicured yard, watching as guests move about the grounds and waiters in black uniforms carry trays of food and drinks through the crowd. Your boyfriend -- wait, no, fiancé -- Alex laughs boisterously with your father, a hand on his back in easy familiarity. You know you should be down there with him given that this is your engagement party, but you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the constant smiling and greeting strangers and showing off your shiny new engagement ring that you needed a break.
The door opens and a man you don't recognize steps into the room, pale blue dress shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and a pair of wrinkled dress pants. He runs a hand through his messy dark curls.
"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here," he says. As he looks you over, his brown eyes go wide with surprise. "Shit, you're the bride!"
You smile at him. "That's me," you reply. You hold a hand out towards him as you give him your name, his rough palm sliding against yours as he grips it firmly.
"I'm Joel Miller," he tells you. You know the name well, being that he's your fiancé's best friend. "Didn't mean to make our first time meetin' so awkward."
"No, no, it's not your fault. I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the," you wave your hand towards the window, "festivities. It's great to finally meet you."
"I don't blame ya. They can get pretty stuffy down there. Congrats, by the way."
"Thank you." He lets go of your hand. "So, why are you hiding?"
He laughs, deep and full bellied. "Alex's mom doesn't like me much. I'm sure she was hopin' that we would stop bein' friends when he went to school on the other side of the country, but I’m like a stubborn tick."
"How could she not like you, Alex told me that the two of you have been best friends since kindergarten!"
"There may have been a few mishaps in high school," he says. "You ever tried eggin' your principal's house?"
"Can't say that I have," you reply.
"Well, it doesn't end well if you get caught." He looks out the window with a smile on his face. "We got arrested. Alex's dad had to bail us out. Probably had to throw some hush money around so that it wouldn't show up on his record when he applied to school."
"He's never told me that!" You say, laughing hard enough around the words that your stomach hurts.
The door opens and this time, Alex himself steps into the room. His serious expression morphs into a smile when he sees you and Joel.
"There you are," he says, crossing the room to kiss your cheek. He greets Joel with a hug, patting his back roughly. "What are you two doing in here?"
"I just needed a minute alone," you tell him.
"And I crashed her minute alone. Told her about the time we got arrested in high school," Joel adds. Alex's jaw tenses, his smile tight as his eyes flick to you, like he's worried about your reaction. "She laughed. It's all good."
"Right. Well, I came to find you because its time for the toast and dinner," Alex says. "Let's get back down to our guests."
A hand at the small of your back urges you towards the door before you can reply.
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"Alex, are you listening to me?" You ask. Your fiancé looks up from his phone.
"I'm sorry, baby, I was finishing an e-mail," he says. He sets his phone down on the table, dark screen facing up, and gives you his full attention. "What were you saying?"
"I wanted to schedule the cake tasting. Do you have any free time this week?"
He grimaces. "I don't think I do, sweetheart. Your dad's got my schedule pretty packed."
"I can just ask him to--"
"No," he says sternly. "You know I have to make a good impression with the rest of the firm."
"But--"
"Babe, no. I can't do this week. Why don't you ask my mom? Or Joel?"
While your future mother-in-law is kind enough, you don't have much patience for the way she tries to take control of your wedding planning. Joel, however, might be a good idea. He knows Alex well enough to be a stand in for a decision like cake and icing flavors.
"Could you give me Joel's number?"
Alex smiles, seemingly pleased that he's off the hook as he takes his phone in hand and sends you his best friend's phone number.
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You meet Joel at the bakery that week. To your surprise he's there before you, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt and he smiles brightly at you as you approach.
"Hey," he says. "Ready to eat some cake?"
"I think this will be my favorite part of planning this whole wedding," you reply. He laughs as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, following in behind you.
"Welcome to Buttercup Bakery! Can I help y'all with anything?" A young woman with a name tag reading BEVERLY asks from behind the counter, pink and white apron tied around her waist.
"I have a cake tasting appointment," you reply, giving her your name for the reservation.
"Excellent! If you want to go ahead and take a seat anywhere you'd like, I'll bring out the tasting options and we'll get you squared away in no time!"
She disappears through swinging doors as you and Joel take a seat at a pink acrylic table with matching chairs. He looks around the shop with interest.
"What made you pick this place?" He asks.
"Had the best reviews," you say with a shrug. His brow furrows.
"Alex didn't suggest it? He helpin' you at all with this weddin'?"
He says it with a laugh, but the question makes you dig your fingernails into your palm. "He's just really busy with work. I've been doing a lot of the planning."
“What about your uh, what are they called? Bridesmaids?”
“They’re all back in New York. It’s just me.”
“I thought your parents were here, too? Isn’t Alex workin’ with your dad now?”
“It’s just my dad, he’s back in New York. His partner opened a firm in Austin and Alex is working with that office. He’s hoping to make partner soon, too.”
Joel nods, eyes scanning your face but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. The swinging doors open and Beverly returns with a marble tray, bites of cake artfully arranged on the surface. She sets it on the table between you and Joel.
“Okay! These are our six most popular flavor combinations for you to start with and if there’s something more custom you have in mind, we can totally make that happen,” she says. “Starting at the top, we have classic vanilla with vanilla buttercream, chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate buttercream, our signature champagne cake with strawberry buttercream, lemon cake with lavender buttercream, caramel cake with caramel mocha buttercream, and white chocolate cake with raspberry jam and white chocolate raspberry buttercream.”
Joel grins at you. “This might be the best thing anyone has ever asked me to help with.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Beverly says with a wink, walking back to the counter.
“I don’t know which to start with,” you say, eyes scanning the selections.
“That chocolate one is callin’ my name,” Joel replies, spearing one of the chocolate cake bites with a fork and taking a bite. He hums appreciatively. “Oh yeah, that one is a winner.”
You choose the vanilla to start, taking a bite of the moist cake with buttercream that tastes strongly of vanilla bean with a hint of cinnamon. The simplicity makes it good, but overall the flavor doesn't stand out to you. Joel continues to take bites seemingly at random while you opt to go around the tray in the order that Beverly introduced the flavors.
"Any of them stickin' out to you?" Joel asks when you've reached the half-way point.
"They're all delicious," you reply. "I think Alex would probably like the vanilla best, though."
"I didn't ask what Alex would like, I asked if there were any that you liked." He spears the remaining piece of white chocolate raspberry with his fork and holds it up to you. "Here, try this one next."
You eye the fork dubiously. "I don't think--"
Joel slips the bite of cake into your mouth despite your interrupted disagreement, smiling at you triumphantly. You chew the bite begrudgingly.
"I think that one and the chocolate one are my favorite," Joel says as you swallow.
Beverly returns at that moment, a notepad in hand as she pulls up a third chair to the tiny bistro table.
“So? What are your thoughts?”
“I think I’m going to get the vanilla,” you tell her. Joel’s jaw ticks, almost like he’s upset you’ve chosen the flavor that you said Alex would like. “But, could I get alternating tiers of the white chocolate raspberry, too?”
Joel’s lips quirk up in a small smile and you try to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.
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Joel: Have you picked flowers yet?
Not yet.
Joel: I know a place. You busy today?
You stare the at the message in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear from Joel again, but his name on your screen has you fighting back a smile.
I’m not busy. When did you want to go?
Joel: They open at noon. Here’s the address.
“Baby, have you seen my blue tie?” Alex calls from upstairs. You drop your phone to the counter like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.
“Which one?” You reply, pressing a hand to your chest.
“The plaid one!”
“Should be in your tie drawer!”
“It’s not here!”
You pinch your nose, making your way to the stairs to join him in your shared bedroom. He’s standing in front of his tie drawer, hands on his hips as he stares at the contents. You peek over his shoulder and reach into the back, pulling out the neatly folded blue and green patterned tie.
He takes it from your hand. “That one should be towards the front. Can you remember that next time you put away dry cleaning?”
“Sure.” You bite your lip to hold back the sigh that threatens to spill. “You want me to tie it for you?”
“No, thanks, I need it to be perfect. Big meeting,” he says, his lips tilted in a smile that feels condescending. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” you murmur, watching his back as he enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
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Joel is waiting outside of a dark green storefront when you arrive at the address he’d sent you. He smiles when he sees you, a true one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, and it gives you this strange feeling of emptiness because you can’t remember the last time Alex smiled at you like that.
When you’re close enough, he pulls you into a hug that envelops you in strong arms and the scent of woods at nightfall with a hint of citrus. Your eyes flutter shut as you hug him back and breathe him in.
He releases you and immediately you feel a chill in losing his warmth despite the oppressive Texas heat. You look at the shop as he steps back, taking in the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window and cursive script painted on the glass that says PETAL TO THE METAL.
Joel opens the door to the shop, a brass bell ringing to announce your entrance. A man at the counter in the center of the store looks up and grins at you both.
“Joel! Nice to see you,” the man says. You watch as they shake hands with familiarity, the man behind the counter smiling kindly. “You must be the bride. I’m Frank.”
You give Joel a look of surprise before introducing yourself and shaking Frank’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you two know each other?”
“Joel’s an old friend of ours.”
“Ours?”
A back door bangs open, someone emerging with their arms so full of potted plants you can’t see their face. A deep voice let’s out a series of curses.
“This is my partner, Bill,” Frank says. “He’s not much of a people person. Great with plants, though.”
“A little help would be nice,” Bill grunts. Frank rolls his eyes but leaves the counter to take a couple pots from Bill’s hands, revealing a man with long brown hair and a grizzled expression hidden amongst a thick beard. Frank leans in and kisses his cheek.
“You need only ask,” Frank says. Bill’s cheeks turn pink beneath his thick facial hair. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, his eyes are soft as he watches Frank. “Let me grab you the event portfolio and we can talk about your wedding. Have a look around.”
As Frank leaves and Bill busies himself arranging the new plants, you and Joel wander the shop and take in aisles and shelves of different flowers with little gold name cards in their pots or on their buckets.
“So,” Joel says, “How are you liking Austin?”
“It’s…hot,” you reply. “Really, really hot.”
“That’s the south for ya, sweetheart.”
Your face grows hot at the endearment and how it seemed to just roll off his tongue. “Have you lived in Austin your whole life?”
“Texas born n’ bred,” he says proudly, puffing his chest out.
“You never wanted to live anywhere else?”
“I’ve always thought Wyoming sounded nice. A farm that I built, some sheep, no neighbors for miles,” he says wistfully. “Maybe someday.”
“Building a farm, huh? You good with your hands, Joel?”
He blinks at you. “Y-yeah. I mean, I’m a contractor. I gotta be.”
“That’s impressive,” you tell him, biting your lip to hold back your laughter at his flustered response.
Frank approaches, lifting a heavy book in his hands. “You ready to pick some flowers?”
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Joel holds the door open for you as the two of you leave the flower shop an hour later. He waves goodbye to Bill and Frank with a promise to visit them for dinner soon before following you down the sidewalk.
“You wanna get lunch?” Joel offers. “My treat.”
You pull your phone from your pocket to check your messages and finding none from Alex, you think to yourself, why not?
“Sure,” you agree.
That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench in the park with Joel Miller, your husband's best friend, talking to him about everything and nothing as you eat street tacos from a food truck nearby. He makes you laugh so hard you choke on birria, the sauce dripping down your chin. He reaches out, wiping the mess with a brown napkin while he smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame.
Later that night, while you're in bed, you can't help but think today was the best day you've had in a long time.
And you're not sure what that means.
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You begin texting Joel regularly. You ask him for his opinion on things that Alex can’t be bothered with — the suit colors for the groomsmen (navy blue), the invitation stationary (the linen finish), and favors (miniature bottles of hot sauce - Joel assures you this will be a hit with the Texas crowd). In between those conversations, he sends you pictures from his construction sites or asks you how your day has been and whether you had gotten the chance to check out that show he recommended.
When you tell Alex about the wedding decisions you've made, leaving out the extent of Joel's help, he hums and nods at the appropriate intervals, feigning attentiveness while his thumb moves rapidly across his phone screen. It should bother you, you think, that your future husband is so uninvolved with planning his own wedding, but then your own phone lights up with Joel’s name and a goofy photo he sent from a construction site, his hard hat askew on his head and his eyes crossed, and your annoyance with Alex fades into background noise.
There’s one last item on your checklist that you’re more nervous to ask Joel for help with than the others — dress shopping. You could probably fly back to New York and be with your friends for the momentous occasion but you’re certain that Alex wouldn’t appreciate your absence for something he considers so frivolous.
Not that you say anything when he’s gone for his golfing trips.
You’re staring at Joel’s contact screen, working up the nerve to call him and ask him if he’d be willing to come dress shopping with you, when it lights up with an incoming call, his name at the top of the screen like just your thoughts summoned him. You answer on the third ring.
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you tell him.
“So that’s why my ears were itchin’,” he laughs. “You need somethin’?”
You take a steadying breath. “I just have one more thing I need help with and then you won’t have to deal with me.”
“I don’t mind helpin’ you, sweetheart.” You stomach flutters at the nickname and he clears his throat to fill the loaded silence that follows his words. “Now, tell me what you need.”
“Could you come dress shopping with me?”
“That all? Just tell me where and when,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief, giving him the details of the appointment you made at a local boutique. He promises to meet you there this weekend before hanging up.
The word sweetheart in Joel’s deep voice echoes through your mind for the rest of the day.
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Joel looks hilariously out of place on the pristine white couch located in the middle of the dress boutique, a dainty glass of champagne held in his large hand. You sit beside him, your legs touching as you watch the sales associate flit around the store, pulling hangers of dresses from the racks.
“That’s a lot of dresses,” Joel comments, taking a sip of champagne.
“You not up for the challenge?” You tease. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his wide smile.
“Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. We’re goin’ to find you the best damn weddin’ dress Texas has ever seen,” he promises.
“Alright, I’ve got some gorgeous choices here for you,” the associate announces, holding up a handful of ivory hangers draped in all types of fabric from satin to chiffon. “You wanna follow me and we’ll get started?”
You follow her to the fitting room and she sets the hangers on a rack, fanning out the dresses so that you can get a better look. There’s five of them in a variety of styles, including an impressive ball gown boasting layers of tulle that trails to the floor.
“I’ll try that one first,” you tell her, pointing to ball gown.
“What’s your fiancé’s name?” She asks as you undress, taking the gown from the hanger and arranging it on the floor for you to step into it.
“Alex,” you reply. She drags the bodice up and instructs you to hold it to your chest while she laces up the corset back.
“I think it’s sweet that you’ve brought him with you.”
“Oh, no. That’s Joel, he’s my husband’s best friend.”
“Really?” She asks, the strings tightening around your waist. “The way you two look at each other, I would have bet money he was the one marrying you." You're about to ask what she means when she finishes tying off the bodice and says, "Wow, this dress is stunning on you."
Her comment retreats to the back of your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror. The strapless white gown hugs your chest and waist, flaring out into a layered skirt with lace appliques. There's beading on the sweetheart neckline that trails down the bodice in intricate patterns that catch the light of the fitting room. The dress is stunning.
Marnie leads you back out to the showroom, helping you step up onto a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror that shows you your reflection from multiple angles. You twist and turn, taking in all the details of it before finally facing Joel.
"Damn," Joel says. "That sure is one hell of a dress."
"It's...a lot." You twist your hips from side to side, the heavy skirt swishing across the floor. "I feel like a cupcake and I don't know if I'll be able to dance in it."
"You wanna test it out?"
He's standing before you can respond, reaching a hand into yours to guide you down from the pedestal. When you're on the floor, he wraps an arm around your low back, pulling you close while swaying side to side.
The world around you goes a little blurry and the only thing in perfect clarity is Joel. The feel of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm at the small of your back, the clean smell of soap and citrus, everything is just....Joel.
"How's it feel?" He asks, voice low. You tilt your head back to look up at his face.
"Huh?"
"The dress...dancin'...how's it feel?"
The question drags you back to reality, where you're currently dancing around a bridal salon with a man who isn't your fiance. You pull away from him, returning to the pedestal as the bridal associate joins the two of you again.
"Uh...I don't think this is the dress for me. Can we try the next one?"
You try on two other dresses in quick succession, neither of them leaving a lasting impression. It's the fourth dress that really gives you pause as you look at yourself in the fitting room mirror.
"Honey," the associate says, adjusting the off-the-shoulder sleeves of the dress, "This dress was made for you."
The scooped neckline highlights the lines and curves of your neck and shoulders, the corset bodice hugging your curves in satin folds. The skirt fans out from the waist, similar to the silhouette of the ball gown without all the additional weight and fabric and a thigh high slit allows for some extra movement.
She leads you back out into the showroom and helps you once more onto the pedestal. You grin at your reflection as she fixes the skirt into place.
"Well?" You ask, catching Joel's eye in the mirror. His mouth is set in a serious line, brows pinched together and his arms crossed over his chest. You own smile falters. "You don't like it? What's with the look?"
He shakes his head, his serious expression morphing into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You look..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Alex is a lucky son of a bitch."
You laugh, lifting the skirt so that you can step off the pedestal. Joel's eyes drop, his gaze fixing on the skirt as you walk towards him.
"You think so?" You ask quietly, stepping in close.
"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmurs. A single finger runs down your arm, goosebumps erupting over your skin in its wake. "I know so."
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With the wedding plans finalized, your attention returns to your work as a web design consultant. Your client portfolio starts to build once more, keeping you busy in the months leading up to your big day. Alex remains focused on his work at the firm, working long days and longer nights that have him arriving home well after you've gone to bed, the two of you just ships passing in the dark. You would feel lonely, you think, if not for Joel.
The two of you still message each other frequently, though you don't see him again until a month before the wedding, when Alex invites him over for dinner one Saturday night.
The doorbell rings just as you put the chicken in the oven and you wipe your hands before going to answer it, your heart racing. Joel's sweet smile greets you when you open the door and seeing him across the threshold has the tension in your shoulders easing the slightest bit.
He steps across the threshold, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. Footsteps on the stairs have him releasing you far sooner than you would have liked.
"Joel, my man! Glad you could make it," Alex says as he reaches the first floor. "Honey, is the table set?"
"No, not yet," you reply.
"You need any help?" Joel asks. You open your mouth to respond, but Alex jumps in to say, "No, she's got this. Let me give you the tour."
You watch as Alex leads Joel upstairs, commanding his friend's attention. You swallow down the anger that rises in your throat at your fiancé's dismissal and return to the kitchen, gathering the place settings and arranging the table to his liking.
"It's a nice place," Joel says as the two men enter the living room, which opens to the kitchen and dining areas.
"All that work finally paying off," Alex comments. You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to mention that you were the one who fronted the down payment for Alex's choice of home in Texas. The oven beeps and you pull out the chicken parmesan that had been baking.
"Smells good," Joel comments. You look up, catching his eye. A wordless understanding passes between you, a quiet appreciation that makes your blood run hot.
You plate the food while your fiancé uncorks a bottle of wine and pours it into the wine glasses at each place setting. Alex settles in at head of the table and Joel takes the seat to the left, leaving you with the seat to Alex's right, across from Joel.
The three of you make small talk between bites of dinner and sips of wine. Alex asks Joel about the contracting work he's been doing, Joel asks him about his work at the new office and how he's settling in, being back in his home state. It's halfway through dinner that Joel looks to you and asks, "Are you excited for the wedding next month?"
"Of course," you reply, fingers tangling in the cloth napkin resting across your lap. "Planning it was a labor of love."
"Right, thanks for helping her with the cake, man," Alex chimes in.
Joel chuckles. "Helped with a lot more than just the cake."
"What do you mean?" Alex asks, glancing between the two of you.
"Well, I helped get the flowers, the cake, pickin' out the stationary. Dress shoppin'," Joel clarifies. Your stomach drops as Alex's jaw grows tense, his brow pinched as he nods and pastes on a forced smile.
"Wow, I didn't realize you'd been so involved," Alex says. He removes the napkin from his lap, setting it on the table. "Would you excuse us for a second?"
Alex stands, looking down at you expectantly. You smile at him and Joel in turn, but the expression feels hollow and you taste bile in the back of your throat. As soon as you're on your feet, Alex has a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, urging you along behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs.
Once he's reached your shared bedroom, he turns to you, eyes filled with rage. “What the fuck is that about?”
“What do you mean?” You ask. He laughs, the sound devoid of any humor.
“He helped you pick out your dress?” Alex paces the length of the bedroom like a caged animal and for the first time in your relationship with him, a frisson of fear courses through your veins. “You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid?”
“Excuse me?” You snap. “You told me to ask him for his help!”
“With the cake!” Alex shouts. “Not the entire goddamn wedding! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
“You weren’t exactly offering much help, Alex!”
His eyes narrow. “I thought you would be perfectly capable of planning shit on your own, but I guess that was giving you too much credit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. “Why are you being such a fucking asshole right now?”
“Because you’re my fiancé, not Joel’s!” He steps in close, towering above you as he hisses, “Did you fuck him?”
“No!” You shout.
His eyes search yours and whatever he finds seems to extinguish his anger, his coiled muscles loosening. He grips your shoulders, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you head back downstairs and I’ll stay up here for a minute to cool off, okay?”
The sudden switch leaves your head spinning but you manage to nod. Alex kisses your forehead and you take that as your cue to leave, escaping the confines of your room. In the hall, you grip the banister of the loft that overlooks the living room and take the first real breath in what feels like ages, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to calm your racing heart.
You return to the kitchen and Joel’s head snaps up when you enter. He rises from his seat at the table, rushing to your side.
“Are you okay?” He asks, low voice filled with concern, his brows pinched with worry. “What the fuck was that?”
“Just a misunderstanding,” you murmur, pushing past him.
“That’s bullshit,” he hisses. “Is he always like that?”
“Like what?” You sigh.
“An asshole. Yellin’ and threatenin’ you.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “He ever hit you?”
“What? No, of course not.” You take a deep breath, beating back the wave of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. “He’s just got a lot going on with the move and work and the wedding.”
Joel is quiet, watching you with keen brown eyes that you, for once, wish weren’t focused on you. He steps close, voice low as he says, “Be honest with me, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine, Joel,” you tell him. The lie claws at your throat and sends your stomach into a tailspin. “I promise.”
Footsteps echo on the stairs and you step away from Joel, busying yourself with loading the dishwasher, clearing the counters, anything to keep your hands occupied and stop their shaking. Alex enters the kitchen with a sharp smile.
“Hey, man, sorry about that,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “I think we’re ready to call it a night. Ain’t that right, honey?”
You force yourself to keep your eyes on Alex as you smile and say, “Yeah, baby.”
“Let me walk you out, Joel,” Alex says. “Honey, say bye.”
“Goodbye, Joel.”
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Joel: Hey
Joel: You having a good week?
Joel: Been a while. You doing okay?
Joel: You’ve been quiet
Joel: I need to know you’re okay.
Joel: Just let me know
Joel: Please
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“Just two more days until you’re my wife,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiles at you and you mirror the expression as best you can.
“I can't wait,” you reply.
"I gotta get going," Alex says. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes where you're sitting at the bar. "Love you."
"Love you," you repeat, out of reflex more than affection.
The front door slams shut and quiet settles over the house. All you want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head in the hopes that it protects you from the way time continues to creep forward despite your uncertainties. Maybe, if you lay there long enough, time will move on without your involvement.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. You’re not sure who it could be — your dad is scheduled to fly into town in the late afternoon and your friends arrive early tomorrow morning and you’re fairly certain you don’t have any deliveries scheduled. Sliding from the bar stool, you leave the kitchen to answer the door.
Joel stands on the other side of the threshold, haloed by the morning sun. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’re dreaming.
“What are you doing here?” You finally ask.
“Can I come in?” He replies, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I need to talk to you.”
You step aside and allow him to enter the hallway, shutting the door behind him. You avoid his gaze as you return to the living room with him following behind you. The silence that settles between the two of you makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
"Why haven't you been talkin' to me?" Joel asks. He takes a step closer, brown eyes searching yours for an answer you try to keep hidden.
"I've been busy," you say.
"Cut the bullshit," he snaps, surprising you. "Is it because of what happened at dinner?"
"No," you reply. Joel must sense the brief hesitation, hear the weakness in your voice. His eyes go soft, full of pity, and you can't fucking stand it. "Don't look at me like that."
"Look, I've known Alex a long time, and all those years weren't exactly peachy," he says cryptically. "I love him like a brother but even family ain't without faults.” He steps in close, his hands cradling your face in a delicate grip. “Tell me this is what you want," he demands. "Tell me that you're happy with Alex. Tell me that there's nothin' here between us."
The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue, but nothing can bring them to life. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribcage, the rush of blood in your ears the only thing you can hear. He leans closer, eyes dropping to your lips and you know what's about to happen next but you can't bear the thought of stopping him as he closes the scant distance between your mouths.
For the briefest moment, you allow yourself the chance to just feel. No thoughts, no panic, no worry. Just Joel's warm lips moving against yours, the trace of his palm from you cheek to behind your head, pulling you closer even though you're already tightly pressed to him. It's slow and deep, like he's trying to convince you down to your marrow that this is where you're supposed to be.
But it's not.
You push him away and he doesn't fight you, but the look he gives you damn near shatters your resolve. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, hands flexing at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back, damn the consequences. Your eyes and throat burn with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill.
"You need to leave," you whisper. "You can't do this, we can't do this. I'm getting married in two days, Joel!"
He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't lay awake at night thinkin' what a fuckin' asshole I am for fallin' in love with my best friend's fiancé?!" He shouts.
"This isn't love, Joel--"
"Don't," he snaps. "Don't you lie to me. I know it, you know it, hell, the fuckin' lady at the dress shop knew it!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm showin' you my whole hand here and you won't even lay down a goddamn card!"
"There is no card!" You shout.
"You kissed me back!" He counters.
You stare at each other for a long moment, like two scared, wounded animals. Eventually, one of you has to back down, retreat, lick their wounds until they've healed in a messy pattern of scar tissue that will serve as a painful reminder of what could have been.
Joel sighs, another pass of his hand through his hair as he says, "You know what? Fine." He turns to leave, the line of his shoulder lower, his head low.
A glutton for punishment, you call out, "Joel?"
"Yeah?" He asks, weary. Bone tired. You feel it, too.
"Will you still be there tomorrow?" You ask, unsure of which answer would be worse.
Another sigh. "Yeah. I'll be there."
The door slams shut behind him.
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Your rehearsal dinner is torture.
This should be one of the happiest events of your life but all your energy is being directed at avoiding Joel like the plague. He moves through the crowd comfortably, having known many people in attendance for most of his life, and you feel like an unmoored boat, hoping a wave doesn't crash over you.
Alex sits beside you, drinking from a glass of whiskey as he talks to one of his uncles that has been praising him for landing the opportunity to work with such a prestigious law firm right after college. A dizzying rotation of people approach you through the night - friends who chatter excitedly about the big day tomorrow, aunts who ask when you think you'll have children, uncles who tell you that they're proud of you for landing such a successful, promising young man. It's those last comments that have you hiding a frown in your champagne glass.
It drags on forever, this constant stream of polite conversation and forced smiles. When you finally return to the hotel that you're staying at for the night, you start to feel like you can breathe again. You have a suite separate from Alex's for getting ready early in the morning and he walks you to your room, hand on your low back, a smile on his face.
"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "My almost wife."
The sentiment has bile rising in your throat and as he turns to leave you're blurting the words, "I can't do this."
"Sweetheart, you're just nervous," he says, voice surprisingly calm. He squeezes your shoulders. "You just need to sleep it off and everything will be fine in the morning."
"No," you tell him, shaking your head. "No, it won't be fine."
His smile drops, like a mask has just been removed. "Where is this coming from? Everything was fine at the rehearsal."
"Everything was not fine at the rehearsal!"
Alex takes the room key from your hands, unlocked the door and ushering you inside. He flicks on the light to the sitting area and takes a seat on the couch.
"What's going on with you?" He asks, exasperation dripping from his words. "What do you mean the rehearsal wasn't fine? Did you not like the food or something?"
You stare at him incredulously. "The problem wasn't the food, Alex! The problem is us!"
"There's no problem with us," he says. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"
"What do you mean?" You ask.
He stands, coming close. "Is this about Joel?"
"No!" You snap, perhaps too quickly. "This isn't about Joel."
"Then what is it? Because as far as I know, we're a perfectly happy couple."
"Perfectly happy? Alex, you didn't even help me plan this wedding. Not a single minute of it."
"Not this again," he groans. "Sweetheart, let it go. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear?"
Your jaw aches with how hard your teeth grind together as he dismisses you so easily. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth steadies you enough to say, "I'm not marrying you."
"Baby, please," Alex says. For the first time, he sounds panicked. "Don't make any rash decisions, alright? Whatever this is, we can work through it. If I lose you, I lose everything."
Maybe he's right. Maybe the stress of the last few months has just caught up to you.
"Okay," you whisper. He breathes a sigh of relief and presses another kiss to your temple.
"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay after tomorrow. You'll see."
You don't say anything back, and he doesn't wait around for a response. He leaves your suite, the click of the door shutting loud in the late night silence. You stand there for who knows how long, wondering if he's right. Would everything be alright after tomorrow? Could you sweep those lingering feelings for Joel to the side in favor of the life you'd been building for the last few years?
You know what the safe choice is, but is it the right choice?
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It's the morning of your wedding day and you've been poked and prodded with makeup brushes and your hair has been perfectly styled for the occasion. Flashbulbs have been going off on the cameras that are documenting your special day, capturing moments like your bridesmaids helping you into your dress and your dad's first look, a handkerchief clutched in his hand as he smiled at you.
For the first time in hours, you're alone in your suite. The makeup artist and hair stylists have packed up and taken their leave and your friends are downstairs, waiting for the limousine. You told them you would be just a minute longer.
A soft knock at your door has you realizing that you may have taken too long and you shout an apology as you rush to answer it. But it's not one of your friends on the other side like you had expected.
It's Joel.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His hair is styled, curls smoothed and slicked back into submission. His white shirt is a stark contrast to his navy blue tuxedo, matching bow tie tight around his neck. His boutonnière is slightly crooked where it sits pinned to his jacket lapel. He looks you up and down with a small smile.
"You look beautiful," he says. He reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours. Never quite folding together, but never quite letting go, either.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"Are you ready?" He asks. You wonder if he knows, if Alex told him or if he can just see it on your face.
"Yes."
It's a lie, one you've been repeating since your alarm went off this morning after a night of tossing and turning. His smile falters, but doesn't drop.
"Good, that's....good," he says. His hand leaves yours, and you feel like you've had an entire unspoken conversation that's left you both defeated. "Lets go get you married."
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Joel Miller masterlist
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Text
Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader
•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…
•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)
•Word Count - 3.3k
•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy
•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha
As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.
But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.
“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.
The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.
My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.
“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.
I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.
“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.
“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ
“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.
“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ
Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.
“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ
“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ
I buck up, and he chuckles.
“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.
“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ
“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ
Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.
“Spence-ˮ
“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ
“Please?ˮ
“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.
“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.
“You only have to ask.ˮ
True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.
“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ
I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.
“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ
I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.
“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ
Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.
“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ
I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ
He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.
“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.
Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.
“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.
“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ
“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ
I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.
“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ
When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.
“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.
“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ
“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ
I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.
“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ
“N-Not at all.ˮ
“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ
His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.
“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.
“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.
“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ
I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.
After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.
“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.
“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ
“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ
“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ
He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.
“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ
Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.
“Can I touch you now?ˮ
I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.
“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.
“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ
“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ
“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ
“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.
“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ
I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ
“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ
“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.
“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ
“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.
“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ
“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ
And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.
Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.
“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?
“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.
“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ
I nod.
ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ
No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.
“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.
“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ
My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.
“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.
“All yours.ˮ
“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ
“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ
“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ
“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ
“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ
“Spencer-ˮ
“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ
“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ
“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ
I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.
“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ
“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ
“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ
Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.
“Cum in me, please-ˮ
“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.
A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.
“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.
“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ
“Spence?ˮ
“Mmhm?ˮ
“I love you, too.ˮ
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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year
Note
Hey can I request a wanda x fem reader where wanda and reader are dating and wanda knows this sweet side of the reader but one day the avengers go on a mission and need reader’s help because she is a CEO of a company bigger than stark industries and she is all badass and destroys whomever the avengers need destroyed.would love nat, tony and reader friendship.
The CEO
Summary: Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!reader
Warnings: none
Word count: 1440
a/n: I’m sorry I don’t know how to be intimidating
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
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“He’s not giving us anything.” Natasha walks into the room, where Wanda and Tony are watching the interrogation room. “He keeps asking for his lawyer.”
“Can’t you like,” Tony imitates punching sounds, “do that to get through to him.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “At the end of the day, we don’t have hard evidence he is the behind the organization.”
A particular organization has been tormenting the Avengers for a long time now. They’ve started attacks against people and buildings, destroying many important properties and killing people. Yet, they have always hidden any possible leads.
Until now. They finally caught someone, Mr Blight. The group’s clean up crew made a mistake and left evidence on site, bringing the Avengers to him.
After bringing him to the compound for interrogation an hour ago, they’ve gotten nowhere. He’s smart, he knows what they can and can’t do, which is why they have to think something different before they run out of time.
Wanda stares at screen, deep in thought. “Where did you say he worked at?”
“He is one of the owners of the Blight Industries.” Tony glances at the file they have on him. It’s a thin file. “Do you know him?”
“I think his company works with Y/N’s company.”
“Miss bubblegum’s company?” He frowns, looking at the man though the monitor. “Really?”
“Oh, this’ll be fun.” Natasha grins. “She can help us, right?” She turns to Wanda.
Taking out her phone, Wanda starts texting her girlfriend. “Uh, yeah. I think she could help us.” She mumbles, a bit unsure on bringing her into an Avengers mission. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Wanda and Y/N have been dating for two months, they’re still in very much their honeymoon phase, neither really talking about work things. However, Natasha and Y/N have been friends for a long time. She actually introduced the couple to each other. She also still continuously reminds them of this, taking great pride into making their relationship happen.
“Oh, yeah. She’ll be able to crack him.”
Tony and Wanda both frown. “Am I missing something here?” He points at Natasha. “How will little miss sunshine help us?”
“You’ll be in for a treat.”
Tony pushes Mr Blight forward when the elevator comes to a stop. He is already looking nervous, he recognizes where they are. “Wait.” Tony looks around the building. “Why did neither of you tell me Y/N is the CEO of the biggest company in the US? I’ve been trying to get a meeting with the boss for ages about Stark Industries, but I always get a negative answer.”
Letting out a short laugh, Natasha leads them in front of Y/N’s office. “Maybe your company isn’t that important.” She mumbles, throwing him a look. Knocking on the door, she opens it for Mr Blight when a faint come in comes from the other side. “Don’t shake too much, she can sense fear.” Natasha whispers with a smirk when he walks past her.
Wanda furrows her brows, moving in front of the window. The blinds are mostly shut, but she can see inside the room through a small crack. Natasha and Tony move next to her, the latter being a lot less inconspicuous about snooping.
“Natasha, care to tell us how she’ll help us?”
“She breaks anyone who walks into that room.”
Y/N is working on her computer, completely ignoring Mr Blight walking into the room. He closes the door behind him, slowly making his voice towards the table.
He clears his throat, but Y/N pays no mind to it. “Should I- sit? Or, maybe..”
“What do you usually do when you walk inside someone else’s office, Mr Blight?” She finally lifts up her head from the screen.
Nodding, Mr Blight sits down to one of the chairs. He lays his hands on his lap, though he can’t stop moving them.
“We have been business partners for a long time, have we not, Mr Blight?” Y/N sits on her office chair with the perfect posture, her hands laying on the table. The look on her face is neutral, but terrifying.
Mr Blight clears his throat before answering, so Y/N wouldn’t hear it shake. “Yes, we have.”
“So,” sighing, Y/N shakes her head, “imagine my surprise when I hear you’ve made an enemy out of the Avengers.” She tilts her head, making Mr Blight gulp. “Do you understand how this looks like to my company, that I have worked so hard to build from the ground up?”
“I- I understand, Miss Y/L/N.”
“See, I don’t think you do.” She stands up, leaning closer to him. “You’re making this more difficult for everyone involved by not telling the truth.”
“Respectfully, Miss Y/L/N, I have spoken the truth. I have no ties w-“
“Have you?” Y/N interrupts him. She stands up properly and turns her monitor to face Mr Blight. “You’re aware that I know everything, correct?” He nods. “So, what you’re telling me is, if I open these files over here,” she points towards the files shown on her monitor, “there will be nothing about you deciding to join the organization two months ago?”
His eyes widen. He tries to hide his expressions, but nothing goes unnoticed by her. Mr Blight opens his mouth to say something, anything to save his name, but nothing comes out.
“On the second of September, you made a donation to a charity, which then send out that money to a third party.” She reads through one of the files. “You’ve been making consistent visits to Washington DC once a week, in the guise of visiting family. However, I remember you telling me your family move abroad last summer, is that right?”
“Well, yes, but-“
“But, what Mr Blight?” Her voice raises a notch. She stares him down, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you have some other excuses? Or lies perhaps?”
He shakes his head in defeat. “I will talk to the Avengers.” He mumbles. Y/N raises her brow, waiting for something more. “And I will tell them everything.”
Y/N smiles, expressing him to stand up, which he does. “A pleasure. Remember to tell Blight Industries we aren’t working together anymore before you get locked up, would you?” She shakes his hand when he doesn’t know what to answer, before pointing to the door. “You may leave.”
Mr Blight opens the office door, getting grabbed by a SHIELD agent and pulled away. Natasha, Tony and Wanda stay behind, stepping into the office.
“Hi!” Y/N has a wide smile on her face as she waves at them. “So glad to see you guys. I hope I was able to help.” She kisses Wanda before hugging Natasha.
Tony is looking at her with an indescribable look. “You, are a fraud.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N frowns, tilting her head to the side.
“That!” Tony points at her. “You did that while talking to Mr Blight and looked scary, just like witchy woo over here when she does her thing, and now-“ he moves his hands around her and Wanda, “now you look like a cinnamon roll.”
With a grin, Natasha throws her hand over Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “She has been my secret weapon for years. You don’t understand how many people she has broken.”
Wanda stays quiet as she listens to the conversation. She has only seen the sweet side of Y/N, but she isn’t necessarily disappointed by the other side either.
“I think I like you even more now.” Tony pats her arm. “Now, do you think we could talk about a collaboration between Stark Ind-“
“No.” Y/N states. “There’s a reason I always tell you no.” She smiles sweetly at him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I still have work to do.”
“Thank you for your help, I’ll see you later.” Natasha grabs Tony’s suit and pulls him away from the room, leaving Y/N and Wanda alone.
“Hi.” Y/N smiles.
“Hey.” With a brow raised, Wanda stares at her. “That was different.” She mumbles, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist. “I kind of liked it.” Using her magic, she closes and locks the door.
“Oh, really?” Y/N grins, her arms going around Wanda’s neck. She giggles as Wanda starts kissing her neck while pushing her backwards. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Wanda lifts Y/N, so she’s sitting on the table. “I have some time.” With a smirk, she goes right back to attacking her neck.
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angelltheninth · 2 months
Text
Blade's Edge
Pairing: Blade x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, teasing, enemies to enemies who flirt, kissing, grinding, aphrodisiacs, very suggestive, arrested!Blade
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: This was commissioned! Short and kind of sweet but also hella suggestive cause its Blade.
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The sound of rustling handcuffs drew you to his cell. He sat in darkness, unbothered by you glaring at him. The only light was his eyes shining at you. "Captain. To what do I owe this immense pleasure?"
You narrowed your eyes at him, nodding at the other guards to leave. You knew he wouldn't tell you anything with them around, maybe even alone. Blade was a stubborn man and if he allowed himself to get captured by your squad then he must want something. Often something involving you.
Blade smirked at you as you stepped into his cell, as you approached him and tilted his chin with your fingers. "You look smug for someone in handcuffs." You kept your eyes on him, you knew he might try to get out but not before he got whatever it is he's after this time. His goals are all that mattered to him.
"Yes, well, it's not like I hate wearing him. I could go for better accommodations if I'm gonna give you some much needed information. I know you and yours have been running yourselves in circles lately. It was actually quite fun to see at first. Now it's just sad." He mocked you with that cocky smirk of his. With every word you got more and more angry. The worst thing was that Blade had a point.
"And what do you want in return? Surely you're not here out of the goodness of your heart."
"What heart?" Blade chuckled, his voice dripping with a tone that was both sadistic and seductive. Dangerous. "I could do it for... hm what's a good price. Perhaps a small kiss?"
Your hand twitched with the urge to slap him for even suggesting such a thing.
"You can pretend all you wish. I have seen how you look at me when we fight. You were probably looking for an excuse to put me in handcuffs. Have me tied up and at your mercy. From where I'm sitting you could fuck-" You grabbed a handful of his shockingly soft hair and kissed him. If one kiss would give you what you needed then it wasn't a big price to pay.
So why did you sit in his lap. Why did you open your mouth when he licked into it, why did... why did he taste so good. Your eyes widened when you recognized the sweet taste of an aphrodisiac. Fuck.
"Bastard. How are you not effected?" Your head was already getting dizzy, your hips moving in his lap, looking for friction and release.
"Call it natural immunity. I can't exactly have you follow me when I get out of here now can I? I'm only a messenger but that doesn't mean I won't have with you, Captain." Blade pushed upwards, your moans muffled by his lips, his taste and scent making you push forward, to pull at his uniform. You didn't realize he was shifting with his hands you only registered the hard feeling of the chair against your back and his hips pushing your legs apart, "If anyone were to see this what would they think? Their Captain spreading her legs for me? And I haven't even taken your clothes off yet."
At this rate he wouldn't have to take your clothes off.
Blade mumbled something in your ear. Perhaps the information he promised? Or did he call you names? Maybe something about Kafka? You didn't know. Your name was swimming in a sea of pleasure, your legs locking tight around him before relaxing.
"Thank you very much for your time Captain. I look forward to our next meeting." His lips ghosted against yours one last time before your vision turned black, the last thing you saw being his back, and the next thing being the worried and confused faces of your team.
"That motherfucker." You could practically hear him laughing in your ear. Shit. You were still sensitive if even that managed to make you clench your legs.
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enditen · 9 months
Text
birds of a feather
summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.
word count: 4090ish.
rating: m
warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.
pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )
author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader
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You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.
“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.
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It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”
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You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."
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Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.
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The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."
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So,
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What a wild ride, everybody.
This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.
I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:
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Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.
At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.
I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)
If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.
There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.
But until next time, it’s been amazing.
Sayonara you weeaboo shits.
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228 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 6 months
Text
Miracle-one
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(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.
Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.
Authors Note: Here we go! Tags are open if anyone is interested!
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"Mom, do you need anything before I leave?" I asked my mom, who was sitting on the couch in our living room.
Her eyes were cold and vacant as she watched the television, well tried to anyway. It didn't matter if she paid attention to whatever was on, she would forget in a while. When she didn't respond, I sighed and brushed the graying hair out of her face which caused her to look up at me, finally.
No hint of recognition in those vacant eyes.
"Who are you?"
Her words chipped away at the stone wall I had around my heart as I blew out a shaky breath.
"Y/N. I'm your daughter," I said while kneeling in front of her.
Even with my name spoken, my mother didn't recognize me.
It's been like this for the last six months since she first received her Alzheimer's diagnosis. It was farther than we would have liked and the doctor said that her health would decline fast. She forgot who I was one month after her diagnosis and the bad days were more so than the good days. From the second I woke up till the very moment I lay in bed for the night I spent the day taking care of her until recently. My job was going to pick up again which meant I would leave her for about five weeks.
I was terrified to leave her alone especially for that long. There was this great company that I can have a live in nurse take care of her while I'm gone but when I looked into pricing, I nearly had a heart attack. We did okay money wise. After my dad passed away a few years ago, he left us a decent cushion. The house was paid off a very long time ago which helped on the bills; except the medical bills.
Every drug, every trial, and every visit burned deeper into my pockets and now the overdue bill's kept pilling up on our kitchen table. My job paid good enough where I could fill our fridge with groceries and take care of the smaller things but even that couldn't help with the bigger things. I thought about asking for a small raise but the fear of having to tell one of my boss' why was daunting so I never did.
Which is where I was headed now. I had to help get everything ready before we hit the road for the tour. My heart fluttered knowing I would see him tonight.
"Y/N," my mom raised a brow. "I'm sorry, I don't know a Y/N."
I swallowed the lump in my throat then gave her knee a squeeze. "I should only be gone for a few hours. My phone number is writing on the piece of paper next to the house phone."
I pointed to the table next to her where said phone and paper was. My mom tracked it with her vacant eyes and nodded.
"Just watch your show and before you know it, I'll be back. Alright?"
She said nothing, merely watched the television, so I stood straight, giving her shoulder a squeeze and left the house. I wasn't the one to pray so instead I whispered out into the world my words repeatedly.
"She will be fine. She can handle herself for a few hours."
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I walked into the large warehouse hearing laugher and voices carry which eased my worries of leaving my mom alone. No one I worked with knew about my mom and I planned to keep it that way. Davis smiled at me when I walked over to the large table he was standing in front of, a large array of shirts, hats, and sweaters lay on top of it.
"Think it'll be enough?" I asked as I started helping him fold everything into sections.
Davis shrugged. "It's always good to have extra than not enough."
"The new designs look sick," I said.
"Thanks," Davis smiled while bumping his shoulder with me.
While Davis and everyone else who worked for the band had important jobs, mine wasn't anything even close to important. The only reason I got the job was because Davis and I went to high school together. We weren't best friends but stayed in touch. He's also the only one who knows something is going on back home but never knew exactly what; which is why he recommended the job for me. He knew I was desperate for money.
I was the merch girl for Bad Omens and the vocalist absolutely despised it.
Maybe it was because I never asked him for the job or the slack that merch girls always get. They only have the job so they can hook up with members of the band. Which was the absolute last thing I wanted to do; even if he was breathtakingly handsome.
As if her could sense my thoughts about him, his ethereal voice echoed throughout the warehouse and my breath caught in my throat. I looked over my shoulder and saw him standing at the back of a large truck, the one where the merch and other things for the new tour will go.
The smile that graced Noah Sebastian's face brightened everything dark and scary in my mind for a few moments and I reveled in the way my heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.
"You're staring."
Turning back to Davis, I scoffed and went back to work of stuffing the boxes. "I am not."
"Are you actually going to talk to him this tour? Last one you barley said three words to him," he said.
"I would if he wasn't such an asshole towards me. I didn't even do anything to deserve the cold shoulder."
Davis sighed while letting a large pile fall into the box at our feet, a lot messier than the ones I had been packing. I gave him a narrowed gaze of annoyance, one he ignored.
"Don't take it personal. Noah is quiet. I'm sure if you tried to talk to him, you'd find out he's a great guy," Davis suggested.
"I'd rather chew broken glass," I muttered.
I'd work with Bad Omens and crew for about almost a year now and in that time, Noah and I spoke less than ten words to each other. While on the last tour, I kept to myself not knowing anyone besides Davis which might have put me off to Noah. He probably thought I didn't care about getting to know anyone else here; which wasn't true. I had other things on my mind.
Like wondering how I was going to pay my mom's medical bills.
"New designs look sick, Davis."
My shoulders stiffened at the deep voice, his scent filling all of my senses. I could see Noah out of the corner of my eye while I continued to fold the shirts and sweaters. His gaze burned into the side of my head before falling to the messy pile of clothes in the box.
"You're not going to leave it like that, are you?" Noah raised a brow.
I audibly choked on my spit at him blaming me for that mess.
"No, I was planning on leaving it like that. I mean what's the point of folding everything perfect when it's just going to be packed in a box," I replied dryly while holding up the pile of clothes I had been folding.
Something flashed in his dark eyes, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly.
"She does speak."
"Oh, fuck off Noah. I'm not in the mood," I snapped while giving him my back.
Davis let out a low whistle before taking the now full box of merch to the truck, leaving Noah and I alone. It might have been a bad idea snapping at him like that but it was true. I was dealing with a lot at home so the last thing I needed was bullshit from him.
"Did you break up with your boyfriend?"
The shirt I was folding fell onto the table at his words. Boyfriend? I didn't have one; I never did.
"I don't have a boyfriend," I muttered, fingers toying with the fabric of the shirt.
Noah hummed while leaning against the table next to me. He sat facing everything behind me while I stood facing the wall behind him.
"Davis didn't want to go out with you?" He pressed with a sly smirk.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my growing anger at bay. I already snapped at him once, I couldn't risk my job my doing it again.
"Davis and I are just friends. I don't think of him like that and I'm sure the feelings are mutual."
"Good," Noah nodded. "Because the last thing I need is you distracting someone on the crew because of a little crush."
My eyes snapped over to him, flaring with fury. "What is your problem with me, Noah? If you don't want me here, just fire me so you can stop wasting my time and yours."
With how much taller he was than me, even sitting on the edge of the table Noah towered over me as he leaned closer. His warm breath fanned across my face as I peered up at him. Even with my fury, my heart hammered hard against my chest with our proximity, something I hope Noah couldn't hear.
"Trust me, angel. You'd know if I was wasting my time with you."
He watched me for a few moments before walking away; him taking the warmth that cocooned around me away with him. I blinked long after he left, trying to let his words process in my mind. What the hell did he mean by that?
But suddenly, his pet name for me was the only thing at the forefront of my mind and I wasn't sure if I liked the way my body reacted to it; heat spreading from my heart straight down between my legs, core aching with need.
For the next little while, I worked alone finishing up folding all the merch and when I had four boxes stuffed full; I began bringing them over to the truck. On my way back with my third box, I saw Noah and Nick Folio standing at the back of the truck, laughing about something I didn't know. I ignored the way my stomach warmed at seeing the large smile on Noah's face as I walked past him up the ramp of the truck.
Folio noticed how I could barley see over the box and reached out for it.
"Hey, Y/N. Need some help?" He asked.
I let him take it with a small smile. "Thanks, Folio."
Unlike Noah, I spoke to the other members of the band and crew. I wouldn't say we were close but more than strangers.
"How many more do you have?" He asked as he set down the box next to the others.
"Just one. I can get it though, I don't want to distract you."
As the last few words came from lips, I made sure to lock my eyes with Noah, who was watching me with bright eyes, arms crossed over his chest. The way his eyes glinted with the setting sun almost made a smile break out on my face.
Almost.
Folio looked between Noah and I before letting out a low chuckle. "If you guys go the whole tour with this tension, something is going to explode before it ends."
I shook my head. "There's no tension."
"Right," Folio clicked his tongue. "And I play guitar for Bad Omens."
The sarcasm in his voice wasn't missed and with a sigh, I left the two of them back to whatever they were doing before I interpreted. The only tension, if there was any, between Noah and me was hate. He never liked me even from my first day. So why would I bother being nice to him when he didn't give a shit about me?
After the last box was loaded into the truck, I began walking back into the warehouse to see if Davis needed me for anything else when my phone rang.
"Mom?" I spoke when I saw the caller I.D.
Noah was walking inside the warehouse with Nick Ruffilo, laughing that beautiful laugh, so not wanting him to hear my conversation I held back away from them.
"Who is this?"
I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. "Mom, it's Y/N. You called me. Is everything alright?"
"Oh." There was a long beat of silence on the other line before some rustling came through. "I was hungry and wanted to make something to eat."
"NO!" I yelled into the phone.
Noah turned to look at my sudden outburst but I didn't bother to look at him, the fear of wondering if my mom turning on the stove filled me.
"Did you turn on the stove?" I asked.
"No, there's a note saying not too. Which is why I called."
I swallowed the sob that almost crawled out of my throat.
"Okay, good." I nodded. "I'm almost done at work. I'll pick up some pizza on the way home. You like pizza."
Another long beat of silence.
"Alright. I'll go back to watching my show."
"Good, I'll be home soon. Love you mom."
The line clicked off before I even finished speaking and I stared at my phone with a long breath. If she had turned on the stove, things would have been a lot worse. A few weeks ago while I was taking a nap, my mom tried to cook something and forgot about it, letting it blaze up in flames and when she tried to extinguish it, she burned her hand pretty bad. So since that day, I had a large note tapped to the front panel of the oven saying not to use it.
Thank goodness I did.
"Everything alright?"
I jumped slightly at the deep voice and quickly wiped away the stress tears that burned at the corners of my eyes before turning on my heels. Noah stood in front of me with his hands buried deep into the pocket of his black hoodie. My hands itched to run through the messy strands of his face but I held back.
"Uh, yeah. I loaded all the boxes up in the truck. Is there anything else you want me to do?"
His gaze took over my chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath I took and I knew he noticed the tears that gathered in the edge of my eyes.
"If you could-."
My phone rang again, interrupting Noah, and I apologized with a sheepish frown. When I saw the unknown number, I excused myself from him and answered.
"Hello?"
"Is this Ms. Y/L/N?"
"Yeah, who is this?"
"This is Chief Reynolds with the Los Angeles fire department."
My heart fell out of my ass and I stumbled out an incoherent sentence, forgetting that Noah was still standing behind me.
"What happened?" I finally managed out.
"We have a Mrs. Y/L/N here at your residence."
I rapidly nodded even though the Chief couldn't see. "That's my mom. Is she alright?"
"Well, it seems as if she tried to cook something on your stove and let the gas burn. A neighbor called in a strong smell of gas. It seems as if she had it burning for a while."
"Oh fuck," I groaned while running a hand through my hair. "Is she alright?"
"Yes, we tested her for any effects of the gas but she seems fine. We opened some windows to air it out. You shouldn't have any issues."
I spoke to him for a few more seconds before thanking him and hanging up. Fucking hell, she tried to cook something and damn near exposed herself to gas. I left her for two hours, how the fuck was I supposed to leave her for five weeks?
"Do you need to leave?"
I jumped, hand over my chest when I suddenly remembered Noah was still standing behind me. For the first time in almost a year of knowing him, I saw concern in his eyes as he looked at me.
"Uh, a small emergency at home. I have to go take care of it," I said.
Noah nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Did you have a ride set up for Saturday?"
I cursed, almost forgetting that in two days we were leaving for tour. I needed the money but also couldn't bear the idea of leaving my mom alone.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I was going to ride on the crews bus."
"I hope things are alright," he said while motioning to my car in the parking lot.
"Thanks," I grumbled before jogging over to the car, not wanting to leave my mom alone for a second longer.
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itsgrimeytime · 10 months
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Maneater (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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Dialogue Prompts: "Don’t play friendly with me." + "Try me."
Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?
TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, a touch of abandonment, grudges, and all things typical of TWD.
[[A/N: y'all ever heard of TENSION?? Or enemies to lovers??? Because I'll tell you what, I have :))) Lowkey, you have a good reason to hate Rick, but like... you'll see. also I am living in delusion for what Rick looked like in the Alexandria timeline, so just know I picture the gif, okay? Thx <3 ]]
Before you go thinking this is another long series, this is just a two/maybe three-parter. There was more to this idea than what I felt I could naturally convey in one one-shot. So, let me know if you want to be tagged for the continuation.
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"Shit."
This really, truly, was never supposed to happen. This was the worst-case scenario, the kind of thing that plagued your dreams with things that were so not probable they shouldn't be scary. And yet here you were, in nightmare territory.
"Y/N? Really, is that- is that you?" the familiar face spoke -Glenn, you realized now.
God, it had been so long, you'd thought for sure at least half of that group had vanished.
Well, maybe they had. You weren't exactly sure, but Glenn hadn't really looked worse for wear. He suited the lifestyle well, actually, which you were a little impressed by -the pizza delivery guy had come a long way.
"We thought you..." he faltered off, still a bit in disbelief.
"Died? Nope," you finished, bitter, sure, but you'd never really had the chance to get over it, "-despite your wonderful leader's best efforts, I remain unscathed."
Glenn frowned.
The joy from moments before dissipated in the now fairly tense air between the two of you -others you recognized weren't there, but you imagined they were wherever he came from. Which you were currently trying to keep in the very back of your mind -you'd never follow him to them, you just couldn't.
"I should've..." he began, words seeming to come to a stop, "-Any of us should've stuck up for you. It wasn't right."
There was a bit of pleasure hearing that, somewhere deep in your chest, you appreciated it. But while the idea was good, it was very much too late. The resentment that had developed in your chest, had only solidified there -unbreakable and set in stone. You hadn't trusted a soul since, not fully anyway.
This world was filled with broken hearts, and yours was one of them.
And that was something Rick and his group had to live with, whoever they were now because that... was their fault.
You hadn't meant to hate Rick Grimes specifically, above everyone else, but the words came out of his mouth.
'Get out of here, we can't... we can't have a group this divided.'
You could still see him now in your head, clean-shaven and dressed in his uniform, taking the world by storm despite not knowing what the fuck he was doing. You were different then, scared but ready to do what you needed -hell, the first time you'd ever even held a gun was against a walker. It was with that group, they'd taught you.
You swallowed down the bile in your throat, and pushed through the rubble -your feet ached from being on the move for so long. You couldn't remember the last time you slept, or even sat down.
You couldn't not in this world, it was all about motion, about survival, about getting through the next few hours at a time.
"Look, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be," Glenn began -following you close behind, "-but we have a place... It's safe, you could sleep. You could eat. There are houses, hot water-"
You froze in place, the idea spreading a sort of warmth in your chest, something you'd forgotten somewhere along the path. Hope. Yet, there was still a sting there -deep under your skin, "Glenn-"
"It doesn't have to be forever," he added, and now that you looked at him, he did seem clean -his clothes washed and the desperation that dusted your skin was so distant you could hardly see it, "-just for a few days."
Feet frozen to the spot, you exhaled -the breath shaking you to the root, it had been so long, but how could you trust him? How could you trust any of them?
You remembered Glenn had looked hesitant, that day, his own suspicion drawn in his eyebrows but it hadn't gone farther than that. He hadn't said a word. No one had. But now, he was here offering solace, safety. And you knew it wasn't just out of pity.
The world had enough of that on its own. You had enough of that on your own, your story spilling to listening ears -they'd all been the same. Still, you could use a break.
And as much as you didn't trust the group, whatever it had become, you knew that if anyone had survived this long -they'd been skilled. Skilled enough for you to breathe, for you to close your eyes and sleep.
You sighed, wiping the sleep from your eyes, or rather the lack of, "Just a few days?"
"As long as you need," Glenn reiterated, somehow conveying that you never had to leave, it was a small thing. But comforting.
"I get to decide when to leave?"
Glenn frowned, his own body almost shrinking in on itself, disappointment. You'd never thought you'd see this, someone from so long ago -the regret, the remorse, "Yeah, of course."
And you were thinking about it. As your joints ached and your throat burned for water, the breeze felt cold against your bones, and you truly couldn't imagine it getting any warmer. The sun setting only meant it could get colder, and you were currently without a roof.
"Okay," you quietly agreed, despite the churning in your stomach saying otherwise.
That was when one of the others, neither of which you knew, spoke, "But, didn't Rick say-"
"Shut it," Glenn exhaled, tone icy and you suddenly realized maybe they were new to him too.
The walk was long, not grueling since Glenn had known exactly where he was going -he'd always had that sense of direction though. You remembered the early days when he'd been the one to volunteer to go back to the city, he'd known so much. Maybe he was just made that way? Or it was some sort of thing they'd invented. It had been a long time.
"There's a few of us that'll be happy to see you," Glenn spoke, casually walking beside you as the other two paired off behind you.
You swallowed the tensing of your shoulders, the last time you'd been in a group it hadn't ended well, and every time before that too actually. You didn't meld well with groups, let's just say that.
"I don't think so," you hummed, remembering so far back in your brain that day -the eyes all set on you, strong and decisive. You couldn't imagine who else survived other than Rick Grimes himself. Because this world wasn't what you expected, you shouldn't have survived more that a week... but here you were.
Glenn didn't say anything else, you assumed he noticed your more pressed tone -as the opposite of an invitation to keep talking. It stung a bit, watching the man's face solemn considerably, but there was also a sick part of your brain that had been waiting for this day.
As you approached the new community, Glenn spread out his hands -with a voice close to an announcer, "Welcome to Alexandria!"
Alexandria was big, bigger than you thought really. When you pictured the homes, there was bordered up windows and broken glass -blood stained into the wood. But these?
They were almost pristine.
Your head spun as you made your way through the gate, Glenn casually guiding you through the space without much forethought. It seemed he'd known this daze, he'd experienced it himself, maybe?
You knew how this world was, Alexandria seemed to be a new wave of something fresh.
Actually, you'd seen signs once or twice but never pursued it. Things like that didn't quite work in this world, you were scared of what it may truly have been. But Glenn had brought you hear with the promise of a bed to sleep in, so you assumed whatever kinks were there had already been worked out.
Or maybe you hoped they would.
In your haze, you hadn't noticed the two other members bump ahead -headed straight for a particular place, you assumed. Nor did you really notice Glenn kind of easily navigating in front of you.
Until, you heard the voice you'd vowed to never hear until the day you died.
"Glenn?" the drawl was deeper now, older and a touch more dangerous, "-The others told me you brought someone back, I thought we talked about-"
"Rick," Glenn interrupted, voice steady and calm -he had been prepared for this, "-it's Y/N."
There was silence there, as you trailed your fingers along the trim of the house ever-so-gently -the dirt stained into your fingertips didn't need to smudge there. It would've ruined it.
"What?" His voice was low, and despite how much you wished you could understand the tone, you couldn't -you didn't know him.
He could be angry, in disbelief, in shock. You had no clue, instead focusing on the ivy running up the sides of some of the houses -rubbing the leaves with your thumb, muttering, "Wow."
"Y/N?"
You blinked out of your haze, stilling at the direct contact with you -it felt odd, hearing your name out of his mouth. So familiar yet, so so far off. Yet, the sting still burned deep under your skin -it would probably never go away.
Without turning around, you acknowledged him simply -direct and without much other force, "Rick."
Then the space grew even quieter, the tension laying thick into the air -you could feel it set the prickling of goosebumps on your skin.
With a heavy breath, you turned around -equipped to set your eyes on his skin.
He looked... different. His hair was much longer, curled at the nape of his neck, and he had a beard -now littered with grey. It suited him, he'd been too uptight back then, now though, he'd seemed more adjusted.
"Y/N, I-" he began, and you could hear it -the pity, the 'I'm sorry'. You couldn't take it, not from him. Not now.
It was too late, it made you want to rip your hair out. And thrash and cry and scream. Scream for all you'd lost, scream for the fear you felt that day, pushed into the woods -separated.
You spoke, pushing back the bite in your tone as much as you could, "Don't play friendly with me. I'm here for a few days, at most."
Rick's mouth snapped shut, jaw setting. He seemed frustrated, but that was hardly your problem, the whole thing was his really. He could die with that regret, aching to give an apology for his wrongdoings... and you would let him.
The area, which you now realized was slowly filtering people in, eyes all beginning to focus on you and Rick. Questioning, mostly, but you figured any pushback on Rick and you'd end up dead. So, you pushed back -the strength of your tone settling and the brush of the cold warming.
You didn't need to make enemies.
And then you heard it, a familiar voice, older than you'd expected, you'd known that voice younger... what was-
"Y/N?"
Your breath stuttered, as you spun on your feet and there he was, taller and older, "Carl? Oh my god-"
You hadn't even thought about it, that where Rick was Carl would follow. You had less than high hopes that he'd even survive this far, and yet, here he was right in front of you.
You'd known Carl early on in the group, he had been so young. Lori needed help sometimes, and she'd grown close to you, so, pretty quickly, she'd trusted you with him. In the early days, he was stuck to your side -playing games with the sticks and rocks you could find nearby, giving him comfort when his Mom seemed too far to touch -she was often like that. Her eyes were far, and her mind farther.
Without much less of an introduction, he ran to you with ease, despite the filth you must've been covered in. Especially compared to him, who seemed to be as perfectly clean as the rest of them. He ran into you, arms wrapping tight around your figure -and god, he was so much taller. You bit back a sob, how much had you missed?
"I thought you were dead," he spoke, muttering into your shoulder and his hands gripping desperately at your shirt.
You remembered the tiny version of him kicking and screaming, 'Why do they have to leave, Dad?!' He had been crying so hard his body was shaking, they practically had to tear him off you. You'd told them you'd leave in the night when he was sleeping, so it wouldn't be so hard on him. He couldn't put up as much of a fight if he wasn't there.
"You've gotten so tall," you laughed, pulling back and wiping at your eyes -gesturing to his stature.
Carl laughed too, wiping away his own tears.
You forgot for a second where you were, and how long it had been. Only reuniting with someone you cared tremendously about. The moment was bittersweet with the eyes of many sliding across your figure, the scar detailed across your arm, or maybe the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd had some run-ins, but you'd taken care of them with what you could.
The next few days were a bit stuffy, the doctor (who you didn't bother to learn the name of) had been keeping a close eye on you -consistently telling you to rest and sticking the one and only sheriff on you when you resisted.
Apparently, she thought that it was the best idea.
The single thread that didn't have you running out of this place wore a sheriff's hat and seemed to relish in your arrival. Carl had been by your side frequently, introducing you to practically everyone (including Glenn's wife, Maggie, what-) -which you had originally been strictly against, but the kid was your soft spot.
You'd felt more at ease after a run-in with two familiar faces, Daryl and Carol. They both did similarly to Carl, and you couldn't seem to fault them too much. Not at that moment anyway. It was midday and Carl had run off with some people his own age, which you refused to separate him from that. It was important, he needed it.
And you needed something too.
The space felt cramped, with someone constantly looking over your shoulder and someone else always in your area. It was a far cry from your previous loner life where your days fell to silence and the slice of whatever your blade was echoed through it. Before Glenn, you hadn't spoken out loud in months.
So, with new energy from the hot water and regular meals, you'd found yourself roaming the streets towards the fence. Just for a sense of normalcy, you needed to taste the adrenaline, feel the blade in your hands, and the urgency in your movements. Dancing with death.
Trying to watch your back, you kept your eyes behind you -ducking behind some of the unused houses that you'd scouted out earlier in the day. It wasn't like you were leaving forever, just a few hours that's all you needed.
"And where are you going?"
You jumped, turning to the sound in front of you, and because god simply hated you it happened to belong to one Rick Grimes. His eyes leveled with you, standing confidently in your way like he'd expected you. And shit, maybe he had.
Stammering, you regained your composure, "Where's Carl?"
"Asleep," he responded with ease.
"Look, I'm not-" you groaned, "-Why are you keeping me here like a prisoner?"
"Doctor told me to keep an eye on ya," he answered, once again too prepared, it infuriated you to no bounds, "-you don't think I'd notice you scopin' out an exit?"
"That's not-" you straightened your posture, pressing your lips into a thin line, "I don't have to explain myself to you. So, kindly, if you would get out of my way, I'll be back in an hour."
Rick chuckled, not in a really joyful way either, neither of you was quite joking, "Yeah, not happenin'."
"Rick," you echoed, tone ice and hand tightening on where your blade rested on your hip -a handmade hilt someone had made you a long time ago, "-move, or I'll make you."
He paused, licking a line across his teeth, and slowly making his way into your space. Your breath caught in your throat, but you stayed strong in your place -eyes set on his and shoulders set in place. He didn't speak until his face was right in yours, a breath away, and his expression remained unchanged -his eyes only betraying the heaviness of his words, "Try me."
Rick didn't reach for his gun, which sat with was at his hip -inches from his hands. You knew he wouldn't pull it on you, it wasn't in his character, but there was a chill in his tone -something new.
What happened to him?
You washed out the worry that settled under your skin for a second, that didn't need to be there. He'd abandoned you -they all had.
Setting your jaw, you exhaled -pulling back and letting your hand fall to your side, "Look, I just need an hour."
Rick stared at you, you couldn't read him -years of age, and most likely tragedy by the missing faces, gracing features you once knew. And even then, he was new -you hadn't known him.
"This place is-" you faltered off, looking back to the houses, where most lights were switched off in the dark -except for just a few spare ones, "-suffocating. I've been on my own for so long, I feel like I'm having an out-of-body fucking experience here. This isn't... I need something familiar."
He still hadn't said a word.
"So," you began, strong, before deflating, "-just let me kill some of the dead, yeah?"
Rick pursed his lips, before sighing deep and heavily, "Okay."
You opened your mouth to rebuttal, before the words set in, "Okay?"
"Just let me tell Michonne and Daryl I won't be around for a bit," he continued, seeming to waltz on past you, and then those words hit you.
"Rick, I don't need a babysitter," you answered, that lick of bitterness slinking through your skin again -your mouth opened before you could stop it, "-you weren't worried years ago, were you? Why now?"
He stopped in his motion, frozen solid by your words. A part of you felt vindicated, he deserved it -it may have been years for him, but that was the way your way in this world had started.
You hadn't expected him to speak, but he did.
"You can't do that."
A flash of frustration hummed under your skin -burning hot and bright -who was he to say anything to you, "I can't do that? Do what? Talk about what you did to me? The day you kicked me to the curb at the beginning of the fucking apocalypse...?"
"I've been tryin' to apologize since you got here-" he started, tone angry in the way of hands shaking not voice raising, "-you won't let me."
Something in you snapped.
"So what?" you started, tone shaky and you'd say it was for rage but you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, "You think I want an apology from you?"
Rick looked lost then, and something in you begged to keep going. The dam was cracked now, and the water could flood out -who better than the man who hit the nail in the coffin, "What...?"
"You, you don't get the resolution that would get you. You don't get to sleep well at night because you said sorry, no."
He didn't speak.
You laughed, the tears were free now, years of being locked behind something as thick as the shell you wore after that day -your breaths were ragged and you felt like maybe your heart would be out of your chest, "I never wanted to live through this."
"Y/N-"
And there was something there in those words, heavy and gravelly against the cool night air. But you couldn't dwell on it. You had too much to say to him, to all of them really, but just him would do.
"No," you exhaled, taking a deep shaky breath in, "-Rick, I just need to know one thing."
He opened his mouth, assumedly to answer your question, but you still couldn't let him speak. Your brain was going so fast, you had to keep up.
"Did you ever ask them why?"
Rick spoke then, slowly, "Who?"
"Shane," you spoke, the air seemed to get heavier, "-and Lori. Did it never seem odd to you that it came out at the same time? That they'd both seen me that exact same day?"
Rick stilled, and his jaw seemed to set.
That was what had gotten you kicked out, Shane and Lori had alleged you'd taken more supplies for yourself -stolen from everyone. You weren't sure of the specifics, whether it be an extra graham cracker or a tissue to wipe your busted lip, as you didn't let them get too far into it. They'd been egging him on, Shane on some sort of masculine level and Lori using their love as a pawn -you'd seen it clear as day. Rick hadn't.
"I was going to tell you," you spoke quietly, barely a brush over the wind of the chillier nights.
He didn't have to ask what. He knew you assumed he had known pretty much immediately after you noticed their absences. Something had happened, maybe not long after you'd left. You could only assume so much.
"I didn't know," he echoed out, his voice strained in a way you'd never heard from him -pained, regretful.
Without much else, you turned back the way you came -voice steady and strong across the space between you two, "I know."
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kyleoreillylover · 4 months
Text
Protectors
Jey Uso x Sami Zayn x Fem!Reader
Summary: As the youngest on the roster, you are used to the protective antics of the older members of the WWE- specifically Jey and Sami, who took you under their wing and see you as their little sister, who deemed themselves as your protectors- despite you thinking you can take care of yourself. But tonight, after wanting to experience being a normal teenager and sneaking out to a party you get ditched and stranded at, you call them for help. And Jey is not happy with you.
A/N: This is very self-indulgent. Not that I get stranded at parties, but I wish Sami and Jey were some of my college besties, especially as a first year, and could comfort me, don't we all 🥹 Hope ya'll enjoy!!
tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav (if you wanna be added to the tag list just lmk!)
Word Count: 4,631
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The rational part of your brain knew it was a stupid idea ever since your friends suggested it- you had to be stupid to not think that -but the irrational part of your brain wanted to finally act your age and have fun with the friends you barely saw ever since being called up and constantly on the road 300 days a year. 
As a college student who also happened to be a WWE superstar and the hottest act on WWE.
And at a mere 18 years old.
Any other person your age would have jumped at the chance for a wild night out. And you finally wanted to live up to your age. 
Which is why you didnt tell anyone on the roster that you were planning to attend the party. Sneaking out from the tour bus was easy enough, slipping away from the watchful eyes of your older colleagues who often acted as your guardians whenever you were on tour. You were grateful for their protectiveness, but tonight, you craved a taste of freedom, and you weren't gonna get that with them breathing down your necks. 
But now, with the bitter cold air biting at your skin, and the distant sound of music fading behind you, you found yourself regretting your decision. You hadn't anticipated how quickly everything could turn sour. Your friends had scattered away a few hours ago to god knows where, leaving you stranded and uncomfortable in a sea of drunk idiots (there was no way you were trusting the drinks of a bunch of college boys) that were either trying to get in your pants or trying to get you into their friends’ pants. 
And to make things worse-you got recognized. An over-zelous frat boy took one look at you from across the room and literally screamed out your name over the loud music, which in turn made his other over-zelous frat boy friends turn towards you with recognition in their drunken-hazed eyes and run over to you and wrap their sweaty arms around you and beg you for selfies, which in turn made everyone else realize you were there and do the same thing. 
You quickly dipped before shit could hit the fan and managed to slip away and run far away from the house without anyone following you, but now you had no idea where you were, it was getting colder by the second, and you were nervous that a fan would eventually find you. 
You navigated through dimly lit streets, shivering in the cold, desperately trying to remember the route back to the main road to get the hell out of here. The unfamiliar streets twisted and turned, leading you deeper into a residential neighborhood you didn't recognize. Panic began to well up within you as you realized you truly had no idea where the fuck you were going. 
You groaned as as frustration mixed with the cold night air. You had two options now. Either suck it up and keep walking, hoping to stumble upon a familiar place with using google maps, or call one of your friends for help.
You started mentally weighing the pros and cons of each option to call. Cody was finally spending time with his family, you weren't close enough with Seth to ask him for help, Rhea would chew you up and spit you out for being this stupid and leaving without telling her, Bianca was spending time with Montez and busy dealing with Damage Control, Nia hated your guts…which left you with two options...
You reached for your phone, feeling the chill of the night biting at your fingertips as you dialed the numbers of the two people who you defineltey felt the most guilty about not telling about your plans because they were the closest to you and the most protective of you, but you had no choice now. The phone rang, each ring and every second you waited for an answer amplifying your anxiety. 
After a few agonizing moments, the phone finally finally clicked, indicating that someone had picked up. 
"Why the hell you calling at 1 am? I ain't getting you no food uce." Jeys groggy voice greeted on the other end of the line, sounding slightly annoyed at being awakened. "Hey...." You answered back nervously, knowing he'd be even more irritated. 
"Jey, be nice." You heard Sami's equally tired voice chastise Jey. Sami was always the sweetest between the two of them, even though Jey was also syrupy sweet with you and being protective hell over you. Sami was always spoiling you despite Jey's teasing and gruff exterior. You were like the little sister they never had.
"But why are you calling at this time, kiddo? Shouldn't you be sleeping or something, all that teenage angst catching up to you?" Sami teased lightly.
You let out a nervous laugh, the sound slightly shaky from the cold, your breath visible in the chilly night air. "Uh, yeah, about that...I kind of need your help," you admitted, rubbing your arms in an attempt to generate some warmth.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Jey spoke up again, this time more alert. "What kind of help? What the hell you do?" Jey's voice was filled with concern yet tinged with a hint of scolding. 
You let out another nervous laugh, knowing he was going to get more angry. "Don't get mad..." 
"Don't get mad?" Jey's voice rose a notch, and you could practically hear the skepticism in his tone. "What. Did. You. Do?"
"Well, you see, I may or may not have snuck out to a party without telling anyone, and now I'm kind of lost in the middle of nowhere," you confessed immediately at his demanding tone, cringing at the admission.
There was a moment of silence, followed by a deep sigh from Sami. "You did what?!" Jey's disbelief was evident, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his hair, a habit he had when he was stressed or frustrated.
"I know, I know, but I called you now, shouldn't that count for something?" You babbled out in a rush to quell his frustations, your teeth chattering slightly from the cold.
Jey let out a frustrated growl. So much for quelling his rage. "You should've not done this shit in the first place, that would've counted for something! You know better than to do this shit-"
"Alright, alright, let's not make her feel worse than she already does." Sami interjected, his tone softer as he put a hand on Jey's shoulder, trying to calm his friend down. "We'll figure this out kiddo, okay? Just send us your location." 
You quickly fumbled with your phone to send them your location- hoping they wouldn't notice you turned it off, but Jey's angry growl indicated that he probably caught on. "And you turned off your location, didn't you?" Jey's voice was stern, and you winced at the disappointment you could feel emanating from him.
"I...uh, didn't want anyone else to track me down," you admitted sheepishly, knowing it was a feeble excuse.
Sami sighed. "Look, just turn it back on so we can find you. We'll be there in a few minutes."
You followed Sami's instructions, turning on your location sharing. As you waited for them to arrive, you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and anxiety. Relief that you wouldn't have to be in these cold, unfamiliar streets alone and would have company soon and anxiety about facing the inevitable lecture from Jey and Sami. 
True to their word, Jey and Sami showed up shortly, wearing sweatpants and hoodies, looking more like they were ready to sleep than to show up and get you. 
Jey's face was etched with anger, disappointment, and concern, while Sami's held a more understanding and sympathetic look, but also had a tinge of disappointment in his face. They both stepped out of their car, and Sami pulled you into a tight, protective hug. The warmth from his hoodie was a stark contrast to the chilly night air, and you couldn't help but sigh in relief.
"Are you okay?" Sami whispered, concern evident in his voice as he pulled away to examine you. You were wearing a low cut black dress that was definitely not suitable for the cold weather, and Sami's worry deepened as he noticed your shivering.
"I'm fine, just cold," you replied, trying to brush off the concern, but the chattering of your teeth betrayed your attempt.
Jey, who had been standing there with his arms crossed, finally spoke up, walking over to you and giving you a jacket."We're taking you back to the bus. This was a stupid idea, and you should know better. Now get in the car."
You nodded solemnly, slipping into the jacket, but Sami frowned at Jeys stern tone. "You don't have to yell at her, Jey. She's already scared and cold." Sami shot Jey a disapproving look that Jey shot right back at him. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Sami? Be happy like you that she's almost a grown ass adult that decided to play hide and seek in the middle of the night in some random neighboorhood?"
Your frown turned into a glare as you looked between them, understanding where Jey was coming from but nonetheless still hurt by his words. "You're right. I am an adult, so I shouldn't have to listen to you yell at me like I'm a child," you retorted, crossing your arms defensively.
Jey scoffed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, your such an adult that you got yourself lost in the middle of the night," he muttered under his breath, but Sami shot him another warning look.
"Enough, Jey. Yelling at her won't change what happened. Let's just get her back to the bus and talk about this when we're all in a warmer, less public place," Sami suggested, guiding you towards the car.
You were about to go into the car, but a voice yelling out your name made you freeze in your tracks. "Y/N!!" The three of you turned to see a big ass frat boy running towards you, phone in hand, with a wide grin on his face. 
"You didnt listen to me ask you for a selfie earlier!" he exclaimed, clearly still drunk. "So now that I finally found you, are you done being a bitch and will take a selfie with me?" He barely finished his sentence before Jey grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground, a low growl escaping his throat.
"You need to learn some damn manners, you fucking fool!" Jey snarled, his grip tightening on the guy's shirt. "You talk to her like that again I'ma stick my foot up your ass and make sure you can't talk at all, uce."
"Jey, let him go!" Sami intervened, trying to pry Jey's fingers off the frat boy. You watched, wide-eyed, as the frat boy stammered out an apology, fear etched across his face as Jey chocked the life out of him. "Nah, he gotta learn to keep his fucking mouth shut!" Jey's grip tightened on his throat as he pushed him against a nearby car. "You wanna talk that shit to her, you deal with the consequences, uce." Jey's tone was deadly serious, and the frat boy nodded frantically, struggling to catch his breath. 
"Jey, seriously, let him go. We don't need trouble," Sami pleaded, still attempting to calm his friend down. 
"Jey please, let him go. We don't need you getting suspended for hurting a fan over me." Your voice softened as you approached, placing a gentle hand on Jey's arm. He turned to you, his expression still filled with anger but softening slightly at your touch. He listened to you and released the frat boy, who stumbled backward, coughing and trying to regain his composure.
"Get lost," Jey growled at the frat boy, who nodded vigorously before stumbling away, casting frightened glances over his shoulder.
Sami shot Jey a disapproving look, but Jey just shrugged it off. "You didnt have to fight him. You could've just ignored him," Sami scolded gently, shaking his head at Jey's temper.
"I ain't gonna let anyone disrespect her like that, Sami. You know that." Jey replied, still seething but slightly more composed now. You took a step closer to Jey, looking up at him with a mix of fear and love in your eyes. "Thank you, Jey. I'm sorry for causing all this shit." You looked away from him guiltily, not waiting for a response as you crawled into the car, missing the way Jey sighed heavily, his anger slowly dissipating as he met Sami's gaze, who was giving him a knowing look. "Lemme guess, now you are feeling bad and wishing you listened to me?"
Jey sighed again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 'I fucking know, okay? I shouldn’t have blown up on her like that." Jey admitted gruffly, his voice laced with guilt. 
Sami placed a reassuring hand on Jey's shoulder. "I know, man. But now, let's bring her back to the bus, make sure she's good, and then you can talk to her, okay?”
Jey nodded a mix of concern and remorse on his face as he got into the drivers seat, Jey's grip on the steering wheel tight and Sami sitting quietly beside him, occasionally shooting concerned glances at you in the backseat, where you were shrunken back into your seat, scrolling on your phone to avoid the tense vibes in the car.
The silence was thick, only broken by the occasional sigh from Jey and the sound of Sami shifting in his seat. You glanced up from your phone just in time to see you pull up to the tour bus.
As soon as the car stopped, you hurriedly exited, hoping to avoid the tension inside. You were met with the chilly night air once again, and you wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself, then felt anther arm wrap around you and looked up to see Sami by your side. He gave you a gentle squeeze, silently comforting you as you stood there, feeling the cold night air prickling against your skin. "You'll be okay," he murmured softly.
As you turned to head towards the tour bus, you noticed Jey lingering behind. His expression seemed torn between frustration and worry, his hand running through his hair as if he was battling an internal struggle. His eyes met yours briefly before he turned away, heading towards the bus after you and Sami, making your heart drop in guilt.
You sat down on the couch, pulling the jacket closer around you, trying to shake off the chill that had seeped deep into your bones, the heat emanating from the tour bus a welcome relief. You glanced up as Sami settled down next to you, offering a warm smile in an attempt to ease your n nerves as Jey stomped to the kitchen, his movements tense and agitated. He was trying to mask his concern with a facade of indifference, but it was evident in the way he kept glancing in your direction.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, breaking the silence, your voice barely audible. Sami's face softened at the sadness in your face. "I didnt mean to make you guys scared, or worry you both, or try to prove that I am independent. I just wanted to have fun for once."
Sami gently placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. 
"It's okay, kiddo. We understand that. But you have to realize, sneaking out alone wasn't the safest way to have fun," Sami replied, his voice calm and understanding. "Jey and I were worried sick when you called. You are like our little sister, and we care about you, and we want you to be safe."
You nodded, feeling guilt weighing heavily in your chest. "I know, and I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble."
Sami paused for a moment, his gaze sympathetic and filled with concern. "I know. And I know the pressure can be overwhelming, trust me, I can barely handle it and I am twice your age. But are you not having fun? Are you not happy with Raw and Smackdown? I don't want you to crack under the pressure this young just because you feel like you have to prove something to yourself or others."
You sighed softly, feeling a mix of relief and guilt wash over you. "I am, Sami. I really am happy when I'm with you guys. I'm happy with everyone. I am happy with me life. It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on being a regular teenager. Everyone else my age is out having fun, and I'm constantly on the road, living this extraordinary life but missing out on ordinary things."
Sami's expression turned into an understanding and his eyes had a pensive glint in his eyes as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I get it, kiddo. I do. I know how tough it is, but I also know that you're strong enough to handle it. You accomplished so much that others can only dream of doing, and youre being a badass while dong it."
You giggled softly at Sami's attempt to lighten the mood, and he smiled back, happy to have finally made you turn back to your normal self. "But you shouldn't be worrying about what you are missing, you should be proud of what you've achieved. You're not missing out on life; you're living it differently, and that's okay."
You smiled into his neck, his words and warm embrace being exactly what you needed. Sami was always so sweet to you. "I needed to hear that. Thank you, Sami.”
Sami pulled back slightly, giving you a warm smile. "Anytime, kiddo. Besides, who else would I be able to spill drama and gossip about with you're not here? Sami chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood further.
You giggled again, nudging Sami playfully. "You have Jey to gossip with."
Sami laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the bus. "Ah, he's got his moments too, but you know, you're the one who keeps things interesting around here."
The two of you turned towards the kitchen when you heard a clang, seeing Jey, rummaging through the fridge with unnecessary force, his back tensed.
Sami turned back to you, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Look, we'll talk more, but I think Jey needs a moment. He's just worried about you, and it's his way of showing it. He needs you more than I do right now."
You nodded your head understandingly at Sami's words; Jey might've had a hard exterior, but underneath all that he needed you right now, needed to make sure you were safe.
"I'll go talk to him," you said softly, standing up from the couch. Sami gave you an encouraging nod as you walked over to Jey, who had his back turned to you, who was aggressively fixing things in the kitchen. You approached him cautiously, knowing he was on edge.
"Jey?" You spoke softly, hoping to get his attention without startling him. You saw his back stiffen, but he didnt turn around. You took a deep breath and continued, knowing he was listening to you. "I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. I didnt mean to worry you or cause any trouble. I just wanted to..." You trailed off, unsure how to express your feelings without making things worse.
Jey finally turned to face you, his eyes red and tired, but full of concern. He didnt say anything at first, just observed you with a mix of emotions flickering his face. His expression softened slightly as he took in your nervous stance, and he let out a heavy sigh. 
"Look sweetheart," Jey began, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the frustration lingering underneath. "I ain't mad at you because I wanna ruin your night or make you feel bad. I'm mad because I care about you. We care about you.
He gestured toward where Sami was sitting, still looking in your direction. "You mean a lot to us, and seeing you like that.." He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're not supposed to be sorry, you know? You're supposed to be safe and sound, not running around in the middle of the night and scaring the hell out of us. And you like my sister, so of course I'ma feel some typa way about it." 
You felt your throat close up at the genuine concern in Jey's voice. You moved closer to him, reaching out tentatively to touch his arm. "I... I understand, Jey. I didn't mean to cause so much worry. I just... I wanted to let loose for a night, to feel like a regular teenager, " you admitted, your voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I won't do something stupid like that again, I promise." You looked up at him, sincerity shining in your eyes.
Jey's expression softened at your words, and he sighed, pulling you into a hug. "You better not, or I'ma beat your ass," he said, his tone serious but laced with affection. You giggled into his neck when he lifted you up slightly in a bear hug, your laughter easing the tension between you both. "Okay, okay, I promise! No more sneaking out without telling anyone," you assured him, hugging him back tightly.
"And no more partying alone somewhere you have no idea about."
"Okay!"
"And no more hanging out with friends that ditch you."
"Okay!!"
"And no more stealing my snacks from my locker room when I go out for a match."
"Aye, now you doing too much!"
You both chuckled at your comment, and you pulled away from the hug to look up at Jey.
"I love your protective ass, you know that?"
Jey smirked slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Of course you do. Who else is gonna keep you in check, huh?" You nudged him playfully, smiling up at him. "You and Sami are the best. I don't know what I'd do without you guys."
Jey's smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he squeezed your arm affectionally. "We got your back, always. Just promise me you'll have ours."
You smiled back at him, your eyes softening with gratitude at having the greatest support system ever. "I promise, Jey. I'll always have your back, just like you have mine."
Jey nodded, a sense of relief washing over him, his demeanor shifting back to his usual protective yet playful self. "Good. Now go back and sit with Sami, your hot chocolate will be out in a minute."
You raised your eyebrows at his words, a grin creeping up on your face. "Hot chocolate? You're spoiling me now, Jey," you teased, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you despite the chilly air outside.
Jey chuckled, pushing you playfully out of the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah, just go before I change my mind."
You grinned and hurried back to the couch where Sami was waiting, a smile on his face as he watched your interaction with Jey. "I take it everything's okay?" Sami asked softly as you sat back down next to him.
"Yeah, everything's good," you replied, leaning against Sami's shoulder. "Jey's just being Jey, you know?"
Sami nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulders comfortingly. "Yeah, I can tell." He paused for a moment before continuing, his voice filled with warmth. "Jey may not always show it in the best way, but he's fiercely protective because he cares deeply. We both do. You're like family to us."
You smiled gratefully, feeling a surge of emotion at Sami's words. "I'm lucky to have you guys. Don't tell anyone, but when I got called up to the main roster… I was scared. I didnt know anyone, and everyone was so much older and experienced, so I thought to just shut myself off and focus on wrestling. But you guys… you made me feel welcome, like I belonged."
Sami's smile widened at your confession. "Aw, kiddo." He pulled you into his arms again, holding you close. "You fit in right from the start. I saw potential in you from before Cody introduced us, and I knew you'd be something special. You've proved that and more. And don't tell Jey I told you this…"
Sami leaned in to your ear conspiratorially. "But he told me when we first met you that he thought you were the most talented person he had seen in a while, and that it was crazy NXT didn't capitalize on you when they had the chance." Sami pulled back to see the surprised expression on your face, chuckling softly at it.
"He really said that?" You asked, surprised and touched.
Sami nodded, his smile warm and reassuring. "Yeah, he did. But don't spill the beans, he has a reputation to maintain." You laughed as you leaned back onto the couch, smiling up at Sami gratefully. "Thank you for telling me that. And don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
Just then, Jey came into the room, carrying three mugs of steaming hot chocolate. He handed each of you a mug and settled into the seat across from you, a small smile on his face. "Here you go, kid. Don't burn your tongue," he said in a teasing tone.
You rolled your eyes at his teasing, taking a cautious sip of the hot chocolate, reveling in its warmth. "Thanks, Jey. This is perfect," you said, shooting him a grateful smile.
Jey leaned back in his seat, taking a sip of his drink and shooting a knowing look between you and Sami. "So, what'chall taking 'bout?" he asked casually.
You and Sami exchanged glances before chuckling nervously. The two of you were the worst liars on earth. "Oh, nothing, just catching up on some stuff," Sami replied smoothly, trying to cover up the conversation.
Jey raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Ya'll were talking bout me, weren't you?"
You were a little worried Jey had caught on, but Sami was quick on his feet. "Of course not, man. Why would we talk about you when we have more important things to discuss?" Sami flashed a mischievous grin.
Jey squinted at Sami, clearly not convinced. "I know when you're lying, Sami. spill it."
You chuckled nervously, deciding to take the plunge. "We were just talking about this hot guy from school hitting on me at the show one time." you said, trying to divert the conversation with a playful grin.
Jey raised an eyebrow, looking between you and Sami skeptically. "Hot guy, huh? Should I be worried?" he teased, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.
Sami laughed, playing along. "Oh yeah, definitely. He was so into her, it was unreal. I had to swoop in and save her from his charming ways," Sami joked, nudging you lightly.
You giggled, grateful for Sami's quick thinking. "Yeah, Sami's my hero," you said with a wink, trying to keep a straight face.
Jey chuckled, shaking his head at your antics. "Yeah, in your dreams, cause ain't no way mans took a look at Sami and got intimidated." Jey smirked, taking another sip of his drink. You laughed at the offended look Sami wore, his hand over his heart in mock hurt.
And as you sipped your warm hot choclate, your heart felt even warmer. You might not have been a regular teenager, but if being a regular teenager meant you couldn't have these friends looking out for you and having your back, then you didn't mind missing out on regular teenage normalcy at all.
BONUS
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172 notes · View notes
darling-i-read-it · 9 months
Text
Reunion Part 2
Part 1  
Trevor Philips x fem!reader, Michael Townley x fem!reader 
Word Count: 3,4k
Warnings: general gta things, murder, the mission where tracey is auditioning for fame or shame, violence, heavy allusions to smut 
Author’s Note: Trevor Philips <3 Trevor <3 T <3 (also I don’t plan on continuing this idea but would love requests for this game if anyone has any :)) 
Tagging: (hope you guys don’t mind me tagging you! You showed interest in a second part and I finally was able to finish what I had <3): @pngxxx, @ugh-why-ugh, @raspberriesbbylol 
Summary: The reader and Trevor go to confront Michael.
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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When he pulled up to Michael’s house it was with a slight amount of tension. You were more nervous than him. You had decided the two of you would crash at his friends place while you were away from Sandy Shores, though he made you swear you would go back to the trailer. You weren’t sure why he had fallen in love with the place but you were willing to oblige. You just wanted him to shower first. 
“So this is where Michael Townely is living out his days,” Trevor grumbled. He shut the car door aggressively. You crossed your arms. There was a car in the driveway. You wondered if it was his or Amanda’s. Maybe the kids. They would be so old by now. The last time you had seen them they were just little ones, running around, finding personalities. 
“Michael Townely leaves the door unlocked,” you noted as you pushed the front door open. 
“Fuckin rookie.” 
Trevor pushed past you. You could hear the buzz of a conversation happening in the other room. You followed him as he followed the noise. 
“Stop it you two! You’re ruining my fucking yoga!” You recognized the voice of Amanda. The shrill was hard to forget. 
“Somebody say yoga?” Trevor stepped forward. You remained back a bit, watching to see how they would react to him. Plus, you knew Trevor wanted his moment. There was a long stunned silence. 
“Trevor?” Michael asked. Even hearing his voice made you angry. You didn’t know how Trevor was holding it together. 
“Michael…” “Hey..it’s good to see you man.” 
“Hmm yeah I bet it is. ‘Course, I’m not the one that’s been resurrected.” You stepped into the room, causing another gentle stunned silence. 
“Nice house you got here Mikey.”
Michael had gone to your house. He had waited there and you never came. He figured you had skipped town at the very noise of something happening with the job but he should’ve known better. He should’ve known you would go to Trevor first. You would always go to Trevor first. 
Michael put his son behind him subtly. You tilted your head at the silent insult. You had held that kid the day he was born. 
“I got in a bit of an awkward situation.” 
“Hmm you’re telling me bro. One of those…fake your own deaths to your best buddy and then run off with the dough..live in a big mansion. Awkward. Situation.” Trevor approached him. Michael eyed you. If he had the capacity he would be stunned by the look of you. He had missed you so much. A part of him had even missed Trevor. Maybe he just missed the then. 
“That’s one way of looking at it.” 
“Yeah? Do you have any other ways of looking at it?” you asked. You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall beside a man who had an unnaturally large bun in his hair. You recognized the others in the room but not him. Maybe he was Amanda’s boytoy. You almost snorted. 
“It’s been a long time. I’ve been in witness protection, I still am.”
“Save the excuses Michael,” you argued. You pushed yourself off the wall. 
“Where are our manners!?” Trevor exclaimed. “We come waltzing in and don’t even say hi to old friends. Amanda, it is good to see you. I missed you. You used to be fatter. Nice new tits by the way,” he said, approaching her. She backed away as he walked forward. You eyed her evenly. He pointed at Jimmy. “Jimmy, you used to be thinner. But ah, can’t blame you.” He gestured to Jimmy’s parents. 
You stared, reminded of a life you could have had and never got. 
Trevor stopped at the man with the man bun. 
“Who are you?” 
“Namaste. I’m Fabien.” You snorted. Trevor turned to you.
 “You all remember Y/N! Except you Fabien.” You waved. “You know, she thought I was dead. I thought she was dead. I wonder who would’ve pushed that idea!” Trevor was standing in front of Michael again. You walked forward. 
“You look good Michael,” you mused. “Amanda, are you fucking Fabien? I’ve gotta know, I’m sorry.” Amanda gasped and tried to stammer out half thought up answer. Trevor interrupted her. 
“Where’s Tracey?” 
“Jim, where’s your sister?” Michael questioned. 
“Uh..um…uh she’s..she’s trying out for TV.” Everyone turned to look at him. The tension dissipated. 
“She’s what?” Michael asked. 
“Yeah, she’s auditioning for Fame or Shame.” 
“The fuck you talking about?”
“You know, it’s that talent slash skill show. She loves it, you guys know that.” “What’s her talent?” “Dancing.” 
“Oh Christ, she’s a horrible dancer.” 
“She might disagree with you on that.” 
“Jesus Christ, now. Now? Where?” 
“Um..the Maze Bank Arena.” 
Trevor jumped into the father son conversation. 
“Our little Tracey being humiliated, let��s go. We go get her.” 
“We?” Michael asked. 
“We,” you agreed. “You gonna stand there and argue while your daughter becomes a national laughing stock? You’re worse than I thought.” Michael held your eye contact. 
“Fine.” 
-
You grabbed Tracey, who was ecstatic to see you and Trevor until she wasn’t. Then you followed some dick head through Los Santos. Trevor punched him, stripped him, then recorded him doing some shitty dance. All regular Trevor things. 
“You comin’ babe?” Trevor asked, hoping into the front end of a semi. 
“I’ll meet you back at the apartment,” you promised. “I’ll have this asshole drive me.” You gestured to Michael.
“Don’t put any bullets in his head without me.”
“Yes sir.” 
“Don’t be long!” 
Trevor took a hard turn but before he left completely he leaned out the window. 
“Hey Michael!” 
“Yeah Trevor?” 
He leaned forward, a small smug smile on his face.
“She fucked me. She fucked me.” Nine years of that lingering question and there it was. There was the truth that Michael had been hanging off of. The way Trevor said it, he knew it was true. The eye roll on your face was too obvious. “See ya soon.” 
He drove away. You were left in his dust, in the Trevorless hole. You looked at Michael.
“That true?” he asked, like he didn’t know the answer. 
“Nine years. All our money. Death certificate.” He nodded slowly. 
“So you found the easiest psycho on the block?” Your jaw hardened. 
“I found my best friend.” Michael knew he was being hard on you. He shouldn’t be. You weren’t insane like Trevor. You were insane with Trevor. He might’ve been able to build a relationship with you if he had told you he was alive sooner. 
You were offended. Michael was acting like he hadn’t just waltzed back into your life after being resurrected. He had no right to judge you and Trevor. 
“I thought you were dead,” you told him. He nodded once, gesturing to the car. You got in the passenger seat. There was something to be said about you trusting him enough to drive you around. He could cap you and leave you, you knew that. He was capable of it. But he wasn’t going to, not now that he finally got you back. 
“I couldn’t exactly tell you I was, after it all went down.” He started the car. 
“Where are we going?” 
“I ain’t taking you back to Trevor if that’s what you’re asking.” You rolled your eyes. He avoided your question. “I knew you were out there, I figured Trevor was. I knew Lester was. It was better for everyone if I stayed dead.” 
“Brad went to jail.” Michael gave you a side eye. You squinted at him, confused. Finally your eyes opened wide in realization. “They killed Brad.” 
“Brad died,” he said, like it was any better. 
“Who is in that jail cell?”
“No one.” Your mouth dropped a bit in amazement. All this time, the grave you had been mourning at was not Michael’s but Brad’s. You felt a pang of guilt. He deserved your grief all this time. You looked straight ahead. He was driving through the heart of Los Santos. 
“Damn,” you muttered. “Still can’t believe you’re alive Mikey.” 
“Me too girl. Me too.” He took a sharp turn. “Thank you for helping me with Tracey. Not that I needed it.” 
“You had it handled, I know.” You rolled your eyes. You glanced over at him. Your Michael Townley, alive again. You shook your head. “Amanda seems happy.”
He scoffed. 
“You met Fabian. She’s clearly happy.” You snorted. 
“I never liked her and then Jimmy came along and…”
“Yeah well I wanted a family,” he admitted. “Fat lot of good it’s done me now. Both my kids hate me and my wife cheats on me. I’m back in the world of crime with my formally dead best friends.” “We were not the dead ones.” 
Michael thought of Lester’s words. 
She deserved better than both of you. But you have to know she would’ve always chosen him. 
He shook off the haunting thoughts. He didn’t let himself feel how much he had loved you. 
“I went to your apartment,” he said.
“Stalker.” 
“Yesterday,” he corrected. “I waited for you. I had Lester tell me where you lived and I waited,” he explained. “You never came.” 
“Yeah I think Trevor cleared that one up for you,” you muttered. “I was in a shitty trailer bed in Sandy Shores.”
“You were always welcome in my bed  in Rockford Hills.” You rolled your eyes. 
“Townley, you’re a married man!” He glanced over at you. You met his gaze. The joke hung in the air and slowly became more serious. You pursed your lips and a sense of melancholy went over his eyes. “What a life it would’ve been though huh?”
“It doesn’t have to be-”
“Yeah Mikey. It does.” Your voice was serious. The one you used during business. He pulled into the parking lot of the boardwalk. He wasn’t sure what made him come here. He just didn’t wanna go home yet. Kids passed in front of the car, going towards the rides. The car stayed running. “You died on me.”
“I’m not dead now.”
The look you gave him was not a forgiving one. You reached across the center console, grabbing his hand. You smiled sadly at him. 
“I gotta go.” 
“No you don’t.” 
“Yeah, I do.” 
For a moment he thought you were gonna kiss him. Your lips were so alluring and so close. The same lips he had fantasized about when he was still a kid technically, early twenties, filled with hormones. Your look was too fucking sad. He had gotten you back, your lips were right there. What had he always sworn he was going to do if he saw you again? Damn Amanda, damn Trevor? 
He kissed you. It was feverish. Fast, passionate, filled with years of tension. You kissed him back for a moment. There was a moment in that kiss, maybe longer than a moment, where it was all okay. It was the kiss he had always wanted and it felt as good as he had always thought it would. 
You pulled away and got out of the car. You didn’t speak, you didn’t break that moment for him. He was still leaning across the console when you left the car and he lingered there for a moment too long. You took out your phone, walked towards the amusement rides, and called a cab. 
-
You tossed money at the cab driver, enough for a tip as well. The driver left you quickly, back at his job just as quickly as he had come. You were grateful the drive wasn’t long. 
Michael’s lips still stained yours. You wanted to kiss Trevor. Bad. 
It wasn’t that the kiss with Michael wasn’t good. In fact, it was great. It was a good kiss with a guy you had once loved, with a guy you could’ve built a good life with. But now it tasted like betrayal and lost worlds.  
You didn’t bother knocking. The door opened slowly into the hallway. You could hear voices coming from inside the apartment. 
“Debra isn’t gonna like this,” Floyd said nervously. 
“Debra isn’t gonna like any of this. Don’t fuckin worry, I’ll make sure you’re man of the year in way of making girlfriends angry,” Trevor’s voice responded. When you turned the corner you could see Trevor was writing on the walls. The main entrance that had once said live, laugh, love, was now crudely covered with eat, shit, die. You recognized the handwriting. 
“I really would prefer it if you didn’t,” Floyd said. Trevor turned around to answer him, some sarcastic answer hanging on his lips. He didn’t say it when he saw you. His face immediately softened and whatever snarky comment he was going to say died in his mouth. 
“That was quick.” 
“Michael’s fast,” you muttered. He narrowed his eyes on you. 
“You didn’t-”
“No. No.” He nodded once. He felt relieved to hear that. You were his. He wasn’t gonna share you any more, he was sick of sharing you. 
“Do you think you could get him to stop?” Floyd questioned. You looked at the walls, covered in black markers. You shook your head. 
“He doesn’t have a leash.” 
“My girl.” He waltzed back over to you, cupping your cheek with his hand and kissing you. It was the kind of kiss you were wanting. You melted into it, not caring that Floyd was watching. 
Floyd wanted to make a comment about how you deserved better. But the way you leaned into the kiss was something Debra had never done for him. Maybe he could take some notes from Trevor. 
“I grabbed the guest bedroom. King bed.” 
“That’s Debra’s bed,” Floyd muttered, but neither of you listened. 
“That sounds fancy,” you admitted. You smiled up at him, happy to be back. It was like a dream. All of those fantasies you had about what life could’ve been had started to mold into this weird perfect situation with Trevor. “You test it out yet?”
“I wanted to wait for you m’lady,” he said, lowly. You rolled your eyes but it didn’t seem genuine with the smile on your lips. He put his hand on the small of your back. 
“Did you take a shower?” He was the one to roll his eyes this time. 
“You’re askin a lot of me doll.” 
“We need to go shopping too. I can get you all snazzy,” you promised. “I’ll steal some of Townley’s money to do it too.” 
“You had me at steal.”
He was like a love struck puppy. It read in his eyes. Trevor fell in love with every girl who gave him a passing look. This one was looking right at him, always had been. He was so exhilarated with winning the game he and Michael had played for so long that he couldn’t feel anything else except lust and love. 
“Shower.” He groaned, long, dramatic. 
“You wanna come?” Your smile was playful. You pushed him towards the bathroom. He took it as a no. His hands lingered on you for as long as you let him. “I’ll be five minutes.” 
“Scrub between your toes too T.” 
“Yeah yeah.” He walked into the bathroom, waving. He hadn’t brought clothes in with him. He would either walk back out in the same outfit, defeating the purpose of the shower, or he’d walk out naked. You walked to the guest bedroom and grabbed some clothes for him, feeling Floyd’s eyes on you. 
“How long do you think you guys will be staying?” he asked nervously. He could read Trevor but you were harder to understand. You seemed normal for the most part. He was worried you might blow up on him. 
“Hopefully not long,” you promised. You could hear the water running so you opened the door. 
“Ocupado!” Trevor called. You put his clothes on the sink. 
“Wear these.” 
“Is it lingerie?” You rolled your eyes and shut the door behind you. 
“I’m sorry we crashed like this. Been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”
“He doesn’t exactly care for boundaries does he?”
“Don’t say that too loud Floyd,” you joked. You looked around. Everytime you entered this apartment it was slightly dirtier. You wondered what would happen when Debra returned, storming through the door. “We’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible,” you lied. 
“Okay,” he muttered. He looked down at the table, smeared with pizza sauce and other substances he didn’t want to identify. 
“Sorry about him. He’s just kinda..like that.”
“So you two haven’t seen each other in a long time?” he repeated. You nodded once. 
“I thought he was dead. He thought I was dead. Life of crime is not for the faint of heart,” you said offhandedly. You wondered if you should run to your apartment and grab some clothes. You wondered how long Trevor planned on staying. 
“Yeah I don’t think I wanna be involved,” he explained. You shrugged. 
“Happens to the best of us.” 
You walked into the guest bedroom to look around for some clothes of your own to change into. You tossed your phone on the sheets, noting the new contact in it. Michael De Santa. There was a text from him. 
You looked at it from afar, like reading it through a squint would make it less real. 
It doesn’t have to be like this. 
That was it. He knew it had to be like this. You had told him. You had a text from Lester as well. His faceless contact made your phone screen bright. 
It’s safer to stay out of this, was all he said. You rolled your eyes. When had you ever cared about how safe something was? Your bullet wound in the shoulder ached with the memories. You didn’t like being warned or being persuaded. You turned your phone around. 
The bathroom door opened. You were standing beside the closet, moving aside some of Debra’s things. Thankfully she seemed to have brought most of it with her, wherever she went. 
Trevor walked into the room, closing the door lightly behind him. You met his eyes. He was clean, wet from the humid water. Finally wearing clean clothes, sweatpants and a shirt. He dipped his head to kiss you like you were giving him his last breath. 
“I wanna get married,” he muttered against your lips. He was leaning against the bed, his back legs flush with the sheets. You laughed. “I’m serious. It’s been too long. We would’ve done it ages ago.”
“Slow down cowboy.” 
You gently pushed him onto the bed. He looked up at you with the most devoted eyes. You straddled him, pushing your hair so it was out of your face. 
“Aren’t you wanted by the FIB?” you questioned. “You think they’re gonna sign our marriage certificate?”
“We can get an Elvis. Get drunk. Have a month long honeymoon.” His eyes wandered your body. His body reacted quickly to you being on top of him. The thought was alluring, you couldn’t lie.
“Okay,” you breathed, kissing him. “Later. We have all the time in the world now,” you promised. “I just wanna stay right…here.” He moaned as your lips nipped his ear. 
“Whatever you want.” 
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alexawynters · 3 months
Text
Scarlet Whispers pt 5
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Gif not mine
A/N: I.... as always, don't know how I feel about this chapter. Anything involving the 'horror' theme is... not my forte.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader
Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.
Rating: M. Minors DNI
Masterlist with parts 1-4 here
You weren’t quite sure what woke you up later that evening, only that you found yourself staring at the opposite wall, and unable to go back to sleep. It didn’t happen often since coming to live with Wanda, but in the past, a nice warm cup of tea would help put you back to sleep, so you decided that would be your best bet.
As you quietly got out of bed, being careful not to disturb the witch, a light caught the corner of your eye: Wanda's phone. It was connected to the charger and blinking with a new notification. You couldn't help but feel curious. Shortly after arriving here, Wanda had informed you that due to her magic, there was almost no network connectivity available, whether cellular or wifi. None of your gaming devices or cellphone had any network connectivity, so you had to rely on Wanda to update anything for you whenever she left your home. Because of this, you tried not to bother her too much. After all, you didn't really need the most up-to-date patches since you couldn't play online with anyone anyway.
You were confused about why her cellphone had a new notification if none of your devices had network connectivity. You assumed she would have checked her notifications since the last time she went out, which was at least a week ago. Personally, you couldn't stand having any of those little banner notifications and always cleared them as soon as they appeared, even if it was just by swiping them away from the notifications bar without actually reading them. So, the sudden appearance of a new notification on her phone puzzled you. There shouldn’t be any service for it to have come in recently. At least, not if you trusted what Wanda had been telling you...
A heavy, gnawing sensation settled in the pit of your stomach, creating a sense of unease. Undoubtedly, it was a breach of trust. Surely Wanda, of all people, didn't deserve for you to go snooping through her phone. She had always been kind, helpful, and loving towards you. Yet, despite her unwavering support, at the first sign of something that didn't quite add up, you found yourself doubting her. Why didn't you simply ask her instead?
But.. was it the first time? You were having flashbacks to all those moments of deja vu.
Haltingly, you took slow, hesitating steps towards Wanda’s nightstand where her phone lay. You didn’t understand this feeling of dread within you. You wanted to attribute it to your general mistrust of the human race as a whole, but your gut was telling you this was something more. You were in danger, you just didn’t know how or exactly where, but it had to do with the witch who's been sleeping next to you.
Shaky hands picked up her phone, and with your thumb, you pressed the power button to turn on the screen. Unsure of exactly what you would find, and the notification was innocuous enough - a news article regarding some superhero. What caught your attention was the date - it was listed almost ten months since you and Wanda had left your parents’ house. To your knowledge, it’s only been a month or so.
This couldn’t be right. Ten months? No. That wasn’t possible. Did time flow differently here maybe? You wanted so badly to give Wanda the benefit of the doubt, but now that you had opened Pandora’s box, you had to keep going. Hoping you wouldn’t accidentally awaken the witch, you held the phone in front of her face, and it unlocked recognizing her biometrics.
You should probably go to the bathroom to view this without risking waking Wanda up, but your feet refuse to move. Instead, you remained standing there, opening article after article, all of which displayed the same date. Curiosity led you to check the calendar app for today's date, and you had to stifle a gasp as it confirmed what the articles had stated. While you thought it had only been a month or so, Wanda had kept you here for ten months, employing fantasies and electronics to prevent you from questioning her.
Your grip on the phone waivered as you began recalling those moments of déjà vu. As you concentrated and tried to break through the fog of those memories, clarity emerged. You had asked for freedom. Wanda had yelled at you. You had yelled back. Then, Wanda had used her magic to make you fall asleep and erase your memories, essentially starting over and preventing you from realizing how much time was actually passing. How many times had that happened?
Wanda was not keeping you here to help you; she was your captor. The need to escape fought violently against your desire to stay with the woman you had come to adore, even if she had kidnapped and lied to you.
You place the phone back quietly, trying to make your way out of the room as silently as possible. It dawns on you that you should probably pack a bag or something. You have no idea where you are exactly, but if you don't leave now, there's a chance you may never escape.
Quietly, you escape the confines of the house, and head out of the grounds. You aren’t sure exactly where you are going, but you know you have to keep putting one foot in front of the other until you reach civilization. Previously during your numerous strolls across the grounds, you had noticed a vague perimeter, but never had the witch allowed you to go too far. Now you were intent on heading beyond the boundaries she had set, and you were in the dark on what you would find.
Speaking of the dark, even though the moon and stars were visible on this clear night, you had forgotten to grab a flashlight. Or rather, you had elected not to bother looking for one in your hurry to flee. Consequently, the darkness felt more overwhelming than you were accustomed to. You stumbled multiple times, each instance you were praying that you wouldn't accidentally sprain or break something. You weren't sure what was worse - the possibility of facing Wanda's wrath if she should catch you, or dying from the elements if you were to injure yourself and be unable to continue.
As you approached the tree line that marked the boundary Wanda had set, you paused. This was the farthest you had ever been. In truth, you had never even been this close before. Whenever you got within about ten paces, the witch would always give you a gentle warning. Curiosity tickled your thoughts as to what would happen next. Not all of Wanda's magic was mere illusion; she had the power to alter reality itself. What would occur when you crossed the tree line? Would you plunge off the side of Mount Wundagore to a grisly demise, or would you simply step into the woods as they appeared to be?
Either option had to be better to take the risk than to remain a prisoner in what you once believed to be the safety of your own home. Summoning your courage, you stepped into the forest and were surprised to find solid ground. As you continued, each step affirmed that this transformation by Wanda was real - the mountain had truly become a beautiful countryside. Perhaps there was a chance to escape after all. Without hesitation, you ventured further into the forest, hoping to reach civilization on the other side or find a safe hiding spot within before Wanda woke up.
Unknown to you, Wanda had set up protective barriers to alert her if you ever ventured too far. True to form, the moment you stepped beyond the tree line into the woods, her eyes snapped open, blazing with anger. You were leaving. Despite everything she had done for you. Despite the bond you two shared. The witch swiftly leapt out of bed, conjuring a portal not far behind you, determined to catch up with you. Did you really think you could escape her? You would dare? She would teach you. You belonged to her, and she was growing weary of this back-and-forth game you were playing.
As you fled through the forest, it grew denser, blocking out the moonlight. Initially, it seemed easy enough to navigate, but as you continued, the underbrush became thick, causing you to trip every few feet. The seemingly safe forest now loomed around you ominously, your paranoia starting to take over as you heard the skittering of various creatures around you. Logically, you knew they were probably just as startled as you, given how loudly you were thundering through their home. Still, that didn't stop you from feeling eyes on you the further you went, and you began to question if this had been a good idea after all. Unfortunately, it was too late to turn back, and you came to the uncomfortable realization that you didn't even know which direction home was.
A branch snapped somewhere to your left, causing you to turn your head so fast that you wouldn't be surprised if you woke up tomorrow with a crick in your neck. That is, if you managed to survive tonight. You froze in place, your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing loud in your ears as you strained to hear the source of the noise.
It was extremely unsettling for you to realize that the entire forest had suddenly fallen into complete and utter silence. No birds, no animals, nothing at all...
A leaf crunched. This time closer.
Fear seized your heart and you willed yourself to do something. Anything. Run. Hide. Just, something.
Suddenly, you became aware of a low growling sound approaching, and it became clear you were in serious trouble. Why hadn't you stayed inside the house? There must have been a logical explanation for the date change, and Wanda had always been kind to you. Maybe you were just remembering those arguments incorrectly. Now for your misplaced distrust, you were facing imminent death at the hands of something that likely had sharp teeth. Gods, how you despised sharp teeth.
A snarl to your left startled you, freezing you in place as your eyes frantically scanned the forest for whatever had made the noise. You could vaguely make out the silhouette of a creature on all fours not far from you, and your blood felt like it had frozen in your veins. Why hadn't you just gone back to bed next to Wanda?
As you witnessed the shape hurtling towards you from the darkness, a red streak intercepted it, accompanied by the yelp of an injured animal. You blinked and observed a fatally wounded wolf on the ground nearby. Your gaze followed the trajectory from which the red streak had come, revealing Wanda in her pajamas, her hands outstretched with red magic flowing through them, rushing towards you.
"Y/N, are you okay?!" Her voice was tinged with alarm. One hand extinguished her magic to gently hold your arm, while the other remained prepared for any possible threats. With a caring eye, she inspected you for any serious injuries, but found none. Satisfied that you were relatively unscathed, she finally registered your shocked face as you remained silent.
“Y/N what’s wrong? Why are you out here? Talk to me, please?” Wanda extinguished the remaining magic and took your hand, her ire at you dissipating at the fear of you having just been in danger that wasn’t from her.
“I- I had a nightmare. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just had to run.” You figured that would be believable enough - your night terrors sometimes had you fleeing for your life, you just usually accidentally woke up Wanda in the process before you could get too far. This would be the first time you would have made it out of the bed without waking her up.
Your gaze drifted back to the deceased wolf on the forest floor, and you couldn’t seem to shake the state of shock you were in. Wanda didn’t think anything more of your explanation, your night terrors happened often enough, and you didn't seem to be fleeing from her. It was the only thing that made sense to her. After all, everything had been okay earlier, there was nothing to indicate you were unhappy or would try to leave her.
Relieved that you were unharmed, and not attempting to escape, the witch focused on trying to calm you, as she could see telltale signs of you beginning to disassociate. Gently, she placed a hand to your cheek, tilting your face until you were making eye contact with her. “Don’t look at it, dorogoya, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Let’s go home, okay?”
In that moment, all you wanted was for Wanda to handle all your thinking. Anything else required too much effort, and honestly, you were too exhausted for anything else. You nodded and leaned into her touch, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you embraced the sense of security she provided. Your hand reached up to cover hers on your cheek, interlocking your fingers with hers.
You heard more than saw the portal she summoned to take you both home, and blindly followed her through it back into your room. Hands still interlinked; she led you into the adjoining bathroom. At this point you had mentally checked out, completely overwhelmed by the night’s events. Under normal circumstances you would be mortified that Wanda was about to see you naked in this state - filthy, covered in scratches from your stumble through the woods, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It didn’t help that you had entered a non-verbal state.
Wanda made it easier for you. Although this wasn't how she had imagined the first time she would see you naked, her main concern was to clean your wounds and ensure your comfort so you could fall back asleep. Tenderly, she assisted you in undressing, her eyes never lingering or straying where they shouldn't. She only took quick glances to assess any damage. You were grateful for her magic, which meant you didn't have to wait for the water to heat up to the perfect temperature.
She didn't bother undressing herself, but simply helped you into the shower under the falling water and followed in after. First, she helped wet your hair and then lathered it with shampoo before rinsing. The sensation of her blunt nails against your scalp was so soothing that you almost fell asleep. Then, Wanda took the washcloth, lathered it with soap, and started gently washing your body, beginning with your face. As gently as possible, the red head cleansed your wounds and removed the blood and dirt from your skin.
After deeming you sufficiently cleaned, Wanda turned off the water and began toweling you off, wrapping you up in a towel. She then discarded her own waterlogged clothing and began drying herself. While you stood there, feeling useless, Wanda grabbed pajamas for both of you and helped you put them on. After, she then put on her own pajamas before leading you back to bed.
“Do you want to talk about it, Y/N/N?”
You shook your head and climbed into bed after Wanda. Instead of the usual routine where she held you from behind as the big spoon, you surprised her by snuggling into her arms, facing her, and resting your head in the crook of her neck. Although you still had questions about the cell service on her phone and the months you were supposedly missing, Wanda has been kind to you, and she just saved your life. Those questions can be addressed another day. Finally feeling safe again, you allowed your exhaustion to consume you.
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hitlikehammers · 24 days
Text
there is a tree as old as me
rating: teen tags: future fic, outside POV, trespassing, established relationship, engaged steddie💍 ✨for @kallisto-k at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: To Build A Home—The Cinematic Orchestra: 'and now, it's time to leave and turn to dust // out in the garden where we planted the seeds // there is a tree as old as me
She catches the trespassers by chance, really.
She’s awake early even for her routine, age doing nothing for the capacity to sleep in on a good day but her hip’s been a trial, and she needs buy a new mattress but Richard’s insistent he can’t bear to sleep on a stone slab, Patricia, good god—she wants to get one of those Select Comforts that splits their settings between two sides as a compromise; he argues those are for lesser mortals, which she’s long learned has evolved in recent years to mean not just that he thinks he’s above something in general, but more now that he thinks he’s better than technological advances.
And Patricia Harrington has standards, certainly, but she can also recognize when
She’s also old enough to remember when ‘new’ was an opportunity to throw her Black Card and gloat a little in the rush of the novelty, the momentary shine until the next new thing appeared to repeat the cycle.
She might be feeling her years, but she doesn’t understand when her husband got so damn old.
At least he’s still savvy enough to the time that they’ve got an airtight security system for the house itself, given the trespassers—more likely would-be-burglars, given the evaluation they’d just paid taxes on for the property—that she spies out the window, hears where she cracked the window in the kitchen to light a cigarette as she brews an early coffee.
Maybe Richard will agree to motion sensors for the yard, if she tells him about these…miscreants.
They’re moving carefully, like they don’t want to be seen, or more likely caught—suspicious, obviously—but they’re also moving like the know where they’re headed, as if they’re familiar with the space they’re traversing even in the pitch dark: even more suspect, really, and she wonders if they’ve cased the home, adds full-property camera surveillance to her list of proposals for reevaluating their security.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to—“ she barely catches the hiss from one of the criminals from across the yard, but it doesn’t last.
It doesn’t last because the second party drags the first close and: the lighting’s horrible, the moon’s crescent at best, but there’s really only one thing to be doing when two bodies press close, and then break apart with a pop she makes out on the breeze and, well. She was young, once.
“Believe it, baby,” the second trespasser rumbles low, and, oh, good god: “we gotta hit all the landmarks.”
They’re men. They’re both of them men and they were just—
“Landmarks?” the first one hisses sharper, this time, and Patricia…she doesn’t care nearly as much as Richard does about what people do in their bedrooms that she personally doesn’t agree with.
But this isn’t anyone’s own bedroom. This is her lawn.
“Of our story,” the second one, he—he—has got such curly hair she likely would have assume it was a very tall women, if it weren’t for the voice; “all our highlights.”
“What, exactly, was—“ the first man, he sounds a little exasperated as he whispers, but…fond. Fond like Patricia hasn’t heard in…well.
A very, very long time, at least.
“Here,” the curly haired fiend traipsing her property stops at a redbud tree Richard had always despised, said it looked tacky, common. Patricia canceled every removal service he’d had whichever secretary he instructed to send.
The second man turns, moves slow toward the tree before reaching, placing a hand on the trunk almost carefully, reverently. There’s something…familiar about him. The shape of his face, the way the the coif of his hair catches in shadow—
“My nanny used to tell me this tree was planted the year I was born, that it grew up with me,” and oh, oh, that’s, he’s—“so that I’d have to eat my vegetables and stuff, if I wanted to see it grow.”
He sounds so nostalgic, so soft at the edges; Patricia doesn’t know if she’s ever heard her son sound like that.
Because that’s who it is; why he seemed familiar even at a distance.
Even if she hasn’t seen or heard from Steven in nearly twenty years.
“And look at you both,” the other man, with the curly hair, he’s holding Steven by his arms, and the motion, the body language is…tender even before she hears the words filter over:
“Big and strong,” the man says, and then he’s cupping Steven’s cheek and Steven leans in so quick, like he trusts deeply, here: “fuckin’ beautiful.”
She can’t see it, not in the dark, but something tells her Steven’s smiling for the words. It makes her feel…uncomfortable.
Because it’s not as if they hadn’t seen it; she doesn’t know where Steven’s moved, where he ended up when he moved out while they were gone, left his key and a simple, terse little note about the furnace needing looked at—she only knows he’s nowhere near here, anymore, and she suspects there are some, like the former police chief and his wife, who know where he went but she never asks. She’s too proud for that.
But the point is: Steven doesn’t live in Hawkins anymore, and likely lives nowhere near Hawkins. But when The Post ran the engagement announcement it had only been implied, she’d never have been able to place is, but: when and S. Harrington and E. Munson announced their happy news in print, in a town that didn’t house people by those initials, even if it still housed residents by those family names?
Well. Patricia had suspicions. And she remembers the Munson boy largely because his hair was an unmistakable mess.
Apparently some things didn’t change.
“This,” the Munson boy, because that’s who it is, that’s who’s still cradling her son so close and so gently: “this was the first place I knew you wanted me.”
Steven’s head, she sees, still tilts just so when he’s baffled.
“What?”
“I knew you loved me like I love you, I knew that way before but you,” and the Munson boy, he pulls his hand across his face like the night isn’t doing the hiding for him. Preposterous, really.
“The urchins were inside, we were going to grab more pop to bring in and you pushed me up against this very tree,” and the boy—man, they’re men, they’ve long been men and Patricia doesn’t want to pry up the implications of how she saw no part of the becoming part of that process with her own eyes—but the man’s voice is so warm, so…smitten.
It should be nauseating. Another thing she doesn’t want to pry at is why it…isn’t. At least not quite.
“Couldn’t wait, you said, couldn’t keep you hands off me,” and he’s turning Steven, walking him back against the tree as he speaks the words, like he’s reenacting something nigh-sacred.
“And I knew that I was out of my mind with wanting you like that, on top of loving you more than fucking life baby, but,” and Munson, she can see the way he breathes in his deep for the heave in the line of his back, and she can see the way he…brushes the line of his nose back and forth against Steven’s.
Who still has her father’s nose.
“You were hard as soon as you pinned me,” and Patricia frowns at the glass, when she hears that; and she barely hears is, in fairness, it’s pitched low even as they think they’re alone which is the least they can do but they are not alone and Patrician does not need to be subjected to—
“And it was like a light switch, or a lightning bolt,” the Munson boy—they’re boys they are still boys—but the Munson boy whispers it, and sounds like he’s wondering at it;
“He loves me,” he breathes, the line of his back breathing so deep again; “and he fucking wants me.”
And no, Patricia does not need to hear that at all, but.
There is a part of her, buried somewhere, who…does miss the idea of wanting. Of being wanted. In the abstract.
“You’re absurd,” Steven snorts and oh; oh, she remembers that tone, that testy little snark that always riled Richard enough that he’d largely stomped it out of the boy but oh: Patricia did love when Steven failed to rein it in.
Because it always reminded her that Steven was her son.
She doesn’t intend to start rubbing at her chest, but it…it feels kind of tight, there, just now.
It aches, there. Just now.
“I love you,” and Steven’s voice, she’s never heard him speak with that much feeling, and it’s difficult not to…to react to even just overhearing, to eavesdropping, though in fairness: it is, again, her property.
“And I want you,” Steven leans in, and kisses at Munson’s cheek with such affection, a devotion that’s obvious, near-blinding even in the dark; “just as much now as then,” and then Steven, Steven—
He laughs.
He laughs and it’s such a light and carefree sound and it’s so foreign to Patricia’s ears that it almost makes her anxious, or something of the like.
“But then so much more, baby,” and the warmth in those words: those are foreign too.
Those feel strange to hear, not least in Steven’s voice which…
She thinks she may not have recognized, if the first thing she hear were these words, in this tone.
She’s not wholly sure how to sit with that suspicion.
“Ten days,” the Munson boy’s hands go to Steven’s hips and he rocks them back and forth a bounce in the motion, a levity.
“Ten days,” and Steven…no.
No: she would not have recognized that voice.
She would not have known her son.
“You’re gonna be my husband,” the Munson boy whispers, Patricia only hears because she’s trying to, now, she…she wants to even if it hurts unexpectedly, the tightness under her hand in her chest a pain, now, a small little stab when this man cups her son’s cheeks, cradles him so careful and so…so loving, undeniable even like this, and says what she suspected from that notice in the paper.
Steven is getting married. Steven is getting married and he is proud enough to flaunt it in a town who could never prove it, where he no longer has tied; to a a partner who is proud enough to do the same just as brazen, and she doesn’t know if she’s proud or put-off, but she does know here, now—
Steven is in love. And he is loved deeply in kind. And the person who loves him sounds in awe at the idea of pledging forever not as a contract, but maybe more as a privilege.
She wasn’t paying attention for a strand of seconds as she acknowledged this, and decided ultimately to stop trying to do anything deeper than just that.
But she sees them pull apart; they’d been kissing the entire time she’d been thinking it through.
She isn’t even interested in acknowledging the…niggling little feeling of that kind of prolonged affection, let alone the way they reach for each other, steady each other in the coming apart, as if they have no desire to wholly come apart.
The idea of trusting another pair of hands like it looks as if they do, in the dim of these early hours, is…another foreign thing.
“Okay, okay,” the Munson boy laughs, no, giggles; “let’s get out of here before the owners notice.”
And he turns, would meet her eyes if he could see her; she knows he can’t, knows she’s standing just beyond the capacity to be caught and how absurd, caught inside her own house.
But then he’s turned away again; the house, and whatever it holds, far less compelling than the man at his side.
“Wayne’s place?” Steven’s asking and the Munson boy grabs his hand, lifts it to his mouth.
“Yeah,” the Munson boy says so low, so soft and sweet; “we can hit some more landmarks before that bagel joint he likes opens, we can take him breakfast.”
“More landmarks?” Steven sounds baffled, but so very fond and his partner doesn’t let go of his hand once, reels him in to peck his cheek.
“Of course, sweetheart,” the Munson boy nearly…purrs, how ridiculous; “so many. Because we’ve got one hell of a story.”
But ridiculous or no: the moon shifts out from the clouds as they make to scamper off the lawn and Patricia sees her son’s face for the first time in decades, now, and oh.
Oh: she’s never seen him smile like that. Not…not once.
She turns away, because the sting in her chest burns behind her eyes, a little; because the joy on Steven’s face is…
It feels private; like something she’s not meant to see.
She goes to pour herself the coffee she’d largely forgotten, and, well.
She’s still going to talk to Richard about security, but maybe…
Maybe not just now.
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permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 
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jackhues · 1 year
Text
(mockingbird au!) better things - platonic!hughes
request: quinn's gf treating the reader shitty
requested by: anon : )
notes: hehe, this took very long bcz i've had writers block for so long, but i hope you enjoy! continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3
likes are good, reblogs are better <3
mockingbird! au request rules!
tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley @huggyhugh , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73, @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 &lt;3
join my taglist!
gif not mine!
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the first time you met marianne, you tried to tell yourself she had a bad day. 
after all, it happens to everyone. you’ve had many yourself. days when you don’t want to talk to anyone, where you especially don’t have the energy to talk to someone new.
it was a universal experience.
there’d been a knock on your door that afternoon, followed by jack yelling, “i’ll get it!” you were washing the dishes, so it wasn’t like you were going to go get it anyways.
once you put the dishes away and dried your hands, you made your way to the door, trying to figure out what was taking jack so long. he was a bit of a chatterbox, and on more than one occasion, you had to pull him away from a scared looking deliveryman.
“jack, who’s here?” you asked.
“damn, y/n,” quinn clicked his teeth as he shook his head to himself. “and here i thought you’d recognize me before my own brother would.”
“quinn!” you laughed a little, hugging him. “oh my god, i completely forgot you’re in town! the game’s tomorrow, right?”
“yup,” he agreed.
“great, remind me to prepare myself for hearing ‘jack hughes’ brother’ on the broadcast all night,” you muttered to yourself.
jack laughed, while quinn merely rolled his eyes. 
“this is why you should watch the vancouver broadcasts,” he rapped his knuckles against your head.
you swatted his hand away as someone cleared their throat.
it was only then you noticed a pretty redhead standing behind quinn and looking a little… bored? it was hard to tell, she didn’t look very expressive.
“y/n, meet marianne!” quinn said, putting an arm around the girl. “anne, this is jack’s girlfriend, y/n.”
“hi, it’s nice to meet you!” you grinned, unsure if you should step up for a hug or handshake.
anne nodded in your direction, still looking vaguely bored by everything around her. you decided on neither form of greeting.
jack and quinn were deep in conversation, sending luke snaps and telling him to hurry and make his way over to your’s and jack’s apartment. the three boys would be staying at your place over the weekend.
the rest of the quinn and anne’s visit went by alright, as long as you didn’t count the fact that you and anne never spoke to each other, despite living in the same house for two days.
you stayed at home to watch the devils and canucks play each other, even inviting anne as a gesture of goodwill.
“um, no thanks,” was her simple response. “i’m meeting up with a few of my friends to go clubbing.”
you merely nodded to yourself, doing your absolute best to try and pretend her tone wasn’t rude, and that she was just tired.
a bad day can be a bad few days, right?
-
the second time you met her, things hadn’t gone any smoother.
this time, you and jack were visiting quinn in vancouver, staying over at his house for the visit. you weren’t even supposed to be there, but jack had convinced you to go along and surprise quinn.
luke had arrived at quinn’s apartment a few hours prior, leaving you and jack to go on an impromptu date around the city. 
you knocked on the door, stepping back and squeezing jack’s hand. you couldn’t wait to see the shocked expression on quinn’s face when he saw you guys together.
except, he didn’t open the door.
anne stood inside quinn’s apartment, narrowing her eyes at the sight of you. her gaze travelled towards jack, who she recognized immediately. 
“hey, jack, right?” she asked.
jack smiled, “the one and only. is my brother here?”
she nodded, giving you a onceover, before stepping back and allowing you guys inside the apartment.
“quinn! your other brother’s here!” she called, before heading towards one of the rooms.
you and jack shared a glance, before entering the apartment. you’d spent some time here occasionally, usually when jack was visiting vancouver on a road trip, but you didn’t remember the exact layout of this apartment.
quinn, who must’ve been eating lunch, shouted something in response, before making his way over.
“hey - oh my god, y/n!” he moved jack out of the way to give you a hug.
you laughed loudly, sticking your tongue out at jack who had crossed his arms and was pouting slightly.
“told you he loves me more,” you grinned.
this time around, you went to the stadium to watch the devils and canucks game, along with ellen and jim. anne joined you guys, but she didn’t seem very interested.
you wore a red devils jersey, sporting ‘hughes’ and the number 86 proudly on your back. hockey wasn’t a huge part of your life growing up, but after meeting jack, the sport grew on you. it was hard to date a hockey player and not be a hockey fan.
you watched the game intensely, cheering whenever one of the three hughes had the puck - but you were loudest when it was jack. nico scored near the end of the first period, leading to you and jim cheering and celebrating with one of your handshakes.
while ellen loved all three of her kids, her oldest had a special place in her heart. she couldn’t just cheer against his team.
“devils are winning this, ma,” you told her, laughing during the first intermission. jim had left you guys, with the promise of coming back after grabbing some food.  “i’m telling you, we’re getting a jack goal, maybe two, and then… i’m not sure, i feel like dawson’s gonna score one.”
ellen rolled her eyes, “keep dreaming honey. but anne and i know that quinn’s gonna win this one.”
you turned to anne, momentarily forgetting she was there. 
“what do you think, anne?” you asked, trying to appease your guilt-ridden conscience at forgetting her existence. “what’s the score gonna be?”
anne looked up from her phone, bored, “does it matter? it’s just a dumb game. i don’t even understand why you’re so interested. like honestly, i have better stuff to do. everyone should have better stuff to do.”
you blinked, slightly taken aback.
“excuse me?” ellen said to her, also put off by her words and tone.
“what?” anne looked up. “did i say something wrong?”
“you don’t have to be here, you know,” ellen told her. “in fact, if you’re not interested in the game, if you’re going to talk to my daughter like that, and if you ‘have better things to do’, go ahead and leave. no one’s stopping you.”
anne stared at ellen, at a loss for words.
“ma, it’s okay, really,” you said, trying to deescalate the situation. there were lots of people around, and you just didn’t want anyone to accidentally catch wind of the conversation. “let’s not do this right now. i’m sure we’re all just misunderstanding what’s going on.”
ellen huffed, crossing her arms and looking back at the ice. on the other side of you, anne did the same.
“okay, so i’ve got candy, hot dogs, and some pop. someone please take them from me before i drop them,” jim froze at the sight of the three of you, obviously catching the tension.
at your warning glance, he wisely remained silent.
the rest of the game was tense, but jack had scored two goals - he liked scoring against quinn - and the devils secured a win over the canucks. quinn had come away with two assists, but it just wasn’t enough in the end.
the tension remained, even after the game, but no one brought it up. not until months later, when you sat around the fire at the lake house.
-
“okay, but that move i pulled on you was still better than your goal,” quinn was saying to jack.
“no, no, no,” jack argued. “the goal was so much better.”
you, ellen, jim, and luke watched the two older boys argue, laughing amongst yourselves.
“hey, after the game, why were you all so tense and awkward?” luke turned to you suddenly.
jim shrugged, “i was just following what the rest of them were doing.”
ellen’s smile had turned sour, but you understood. you didn’t like thinking about that day very much either.
you waved it off, “you remember quinn’s girlfriend, anne?”
“oh, the redhead?”
“yup,” you nodded. “anyways, she was just being a little rude-”
“y/n, don’t sugarcoat her actions,” ellen shook her head. “y/n and i were having a conversation about the game while jim went to go get us some food. y/n tried to be nice and include anne in the conversation, but anne was rude and i didn’t like it, so i told her off. when someone’s being nice to you, you can’t just say stuff like that. i didn’t like her.”
luke laughed, “me neither, honestly. i don’t know why… something about her attitude just rubbed me wrong.”
“okay, okay, enough,” ellen said. “i don’t want to talk about her anymore.” she yawned, “on second thought, i don’t want to talk at all anymore. g’night guys.”
jim sighed, collecting the smore’s sticks and following his wife inside. you and luke watched jack and quinn argue, laughing whenever the other made a comment that didn’t make sense.
you were so tired, you didn’t even realize when you fell asleep.
-
jack smiled down at you, using his your hoodie as a blanket to cover yourself as you slept.
“i don’t care if you guys have been together for years,” luke muttered as he walked by, “staring like that is still weird.”
“wait until you get a girlfriend,” jack muttered, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.
he leaned down, lifting you up off the chair and into his arms bridal style. your eyes fluttered, but at the sound of jack’s soft voice, you nestled comfortably in his arms and fell back asleep.
luke and quinn waved at him as he carried you down the hall and to bed.
“i keep forgetting to ask,” luke turned to his oldest brother suddenly. “what happened to anne? why’d you guys break up?”
quinn shrugged to himself, “after the last devils and canucks game, she said she didn’t like y/n very much, and she didn’t like how mom talked to her or something. and obviously, mom’s not going to be rude unless she was rude first. i told her that, she got mad and said i can’t talk to y/n anymore. i said we can’t be together if she doesn’t like y/n or mom because those are two of the most important females in my life. if she doesn’t like my mom or my sister, how’re we supposed to go on?”
“so you broke it off?” luke asked.
“so i broke it off,” quinn agreed.
luke nodded, as if the explanation made sense.
you were a part of the boys’ lives, a huge part. there was no way they would compromise when it came to you. there was no better thing than the relationship they had with you.
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My redneck neighbor Doug on the Jedi in 'The Clone Wars'
Y'all have asked, and Dr. Meat Muffin might be a disgruntled old hag that chugs too much Trader Joe’s bourbon and doodles too much subpar art, but she keeps her promises!
Just so y’all know, if you’re a major character (Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, etc) you keep your name, because it was drilled into Doug’s head over 8 seasons of Clone Wars and the movies. Everyone else, though, Doug gave up and created his own catchphrases for them.
CW: This one's not as spicy as Doug's previous rants regarding Star Wars, but y'all know if y'all know. "It'll all come out in the wash."
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Plo Koon: Ah, Shrimp Daddy. He looks like a shrimp that’s been boiled and left in the sun after a potluck. But my wife LOVES him, she says he has the nicest voice and she wishes he’d narrate some books. I loved him too, he was my favorite. That scene where he tells his clone boys in space that they’re important to him? Ah great. They should have him lead HR meetings. 
Aayla Secura: Babe-the-Blue-Jedi. They sent her away from the Temple because Yoda didn’t want that hotness distracting everyone. Is she and Miguel (Bly?!) dating? They are, right? 
Kit Fisto: Reggae Swamp Thing. Tell me that boy don't look like he lives in the Atchafalaya and bangs on the steel drums all day. I wonder if he stole those shorts from Michael Phelps. He’s cool but does he need to have a tank to swim in on his ship? Does he have gills? I need more info on this guy. 
Adi Gallia: Storm’s Cousin. Doesn’t this chick look like her? She does, right? Maybe she's a Jedi cause she can't control the weather. Didn’t Maul’s brother Saul impale her on his horns and that’s how she died?* Why didn’t Maul do that to Obi-Wan? Maul was obsessed with Obi-Wan, do you think it’s because he had a crush on him after he sliced him in half?
(Doug also ships Obi-Wan with Maul now? IS THERE ANYONE WHO DOUG DOESN'T SHIP OBI-WAN WITH?!)
Shaak-Ti: Ahsoka’s Aunt. They’re totally related. (“No, they’re not.” “Says who?” “Um, EVERYONE?!”) She’s cool, nice to the clone boys. I like her horns. 
Saesee Tiin : Angry Bull Boy. He looks like a minotaur whose daddy left him at a Wal-Mart instead of the Labyrinth after drinking too much.
Deepa Billaba: My Coworker Anu. Seriously! She looks JUST LIKE HER. I even texted her a screenshot, and she used that as her Slack Channel picture for the longest time. Nice lady, she's a good master to Lil Kanan. Hm, Lil Kanan sounds like a rap person my niece would listen to.
Ki-Adi-Mundi: Mutant-Mall-Santa. Look me dead ass in the eye and tell me the man don’t look like he was supposed to hand out presents and ask kids what they want for Christmas and ended up hanging out in toxic waste instead. He's a snotty asshole, I don't like him, he thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.
Luminara Undali: Lady-in-Drape. She’s a green lady, and she wears a drape. Meat Muffin, I'm tired and it's about to snow.
Barriss Offee: Little Lady-in-Drape. Man, she was awful, but she had good points, ya know? Kind of like Darth Maul. Do you think Darth Maul and Obi-Wan ever dated? Or would Obi-Wan’s boyfriend get jealous? 
Quinlan Voss: College-Hippie-Boy. Doesn’t he just look like one of those goofs that fart around with hackysacks all day long? I'd buy weed from him if he was selling, he looks like an exporter and consumer, if you know what I mean.
Even Piall: Dobby the House Jedi. Man he looks like he was on his way to help Harry Potter or something and ended up in a bathrobe with a light saber. Ah well. 
*= Savage is ‘Saul’ and Feral is ‘Paul’. So it’s Maul, Saul, and Paul. I strained a muscle laughing when I got this. 
Tagging my Redneck Doug stans here! @amalthiaph @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @thecoffeelorian @merkitty49 @megmca @skellymomam I missing anyone?
Let me know if I missed any Jedi, those were the ones that came up that Doug didn't immediately recognize.
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