#probably will be updated eventually<33 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

casualhedonists · 1 year ago

Text

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter four)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 4/?

SERIES MASTERLIST

words: 6.3k (🫠)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year <;33

Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.

Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.

The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.

He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?

But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.

You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

You wanted to play? Fine.

He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.

Let the games begin.

Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.

“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.

Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.

It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.

You’d gotten under his skin.

Finally.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”

His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.

“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”

Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.

He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.

He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.

“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”

His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.

“Very cute, sweetheart.”

You smirked.

“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”

His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.

“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”

He scoffed, watching as you got closer.

“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”

You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.” He said tightly.

You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.

“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”

“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.

“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”

It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.

You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.

“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”

“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”

“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”

His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.

“You really are a whore.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”

He huffed.

“Why?”

“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.

He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.

Any time now.

“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”

His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.

Almost there.

“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”

A loud rap sounded at the door.

There it is.

You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.

“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”

“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.

“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”

He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.

“You bitch. You knew.”

“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”

He scoffed, meeting your eye again.

“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”

“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”

“Yeah? Try me.”

His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.

“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”

He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.

“I’ll be right out.” He called.

You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.

“Let me.” You reached out again.

“Fine.”

Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.

“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.

The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.

“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”

“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.

“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”

With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.

At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.

Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.

You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.

A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.

So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.

It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.

One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.

You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.

You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.

Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.

You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.

Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.

That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.

“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”

Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.

“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”

Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.

“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”

My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.

“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”

“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”

“With the owner and his crazy beard.”

“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”

Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”

Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.

He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.

“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”

“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”

“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.

You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.

He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.

“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”

You blinked.

“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”

“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.

You smiled, meeting his eye.

“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”

“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”

You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.

“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”

Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.

You considered it. Briefly.

But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.

So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.

“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”

“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-

“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”

With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.

You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.

“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.

“What you did was different, and you know that."

"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."

If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.

"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”

You laughed.

“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”

He moved in closer.

“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”

You set your jaw. Shrugged.

“Okay.”

He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.

“Okay?” He repeated.

“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”

You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.

“You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.

“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”

His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”

Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.

“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.

And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.

You slowed.

“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”

He hummed, crossing his arms.

“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.

“I waited for you.” You said quietly.

He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”

His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.

“Okay. What is it you want?”

You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.

“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.

“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.

“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”

He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.

You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.

There he is.

“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded, flushing under his stare.

“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.

You nodded again, and he tutted.

“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”

“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.

“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.” He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.

“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.

He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Please.”

“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”

“Coriolanus.”

He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.

“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.

You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.

“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”

“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.

“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”

You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.

“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.

You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.

“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.

“Do you now?”

“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.

“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”

“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”

A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.

This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.

The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.

“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”

His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.

He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.

After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.

You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.

This was what power felt like.

He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.

“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”

Fuck.

“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.

“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.

“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.

“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”

“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”

He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.

“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”

“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Good girl.” He smiled.

“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.

He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.

“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.

“You close again, baby?”

You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.

“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”

You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.

You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.

“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”

“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”

You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.

“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”

He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.

“No.”

His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.

“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.

He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.

“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”

You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.

“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”

He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.

“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”

“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”

a/n: sorry mom

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblog/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #snow x reader #snow x you #tom blyth #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #attention #x reader #x you smut

1K notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 5 months ago

Text

the space between us three (jyh) | one.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 7k

⇢chapter content/warnings: not much - just a basic intro to yunho x seora, yunho is 31 and seora is 11, cussing, mentions of character death, mentions of a tragic car accident by drunk driving, mentions of casual relationships (not yunho), mentions of distant/unsupportive parents

⇢a/n: it's finally here! i hope you all enjoy this journey and tysm for coming along! i'm not sure what the update schedule will be for this, but i'll try my best to update in between wildfire; this series came to me suddenly so i barely did any prior planning or writing. 😭 anywho, ty again for your support on this! <33

"Seora." Yunho calls her name one last time as he pops in two toaster strudels into the toaster. He lets out a small sigh, pausing when he doesn't hear any movements coming from her room. Just as he finishes getting his coffee together, he turns on his heel to head back down the hallway to check on his 11-year old daughter.

"I'm up." She mumbles, dragging herself across the hallway and into the bathroom. Yunho stands there for a minute, doing a slight head tilt before heading back to the kitchen.

"Well, that was slightly easy today." He finishes packing her lunch [some quickly made spam masubi], making sure she has all her favorite snacks tucked neatly in her lunch box. He nibbles onto some hardboiled eggs he made for himself, plopping Seora's toaster strudels onto a plate. She takes about a good 30 minutes before she's out and dressed in her uniform, hair neatly brushed and pulled back into a low ponytail. "Morning." He hands her the plate after she pours herself some milk. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, I guess." She sits and takes a bite before looking at her dad, leaning against the counter. "Just wish it was still the weekend." Yunho chuckles.

"Told you to stop sleeping late. Scrolling through TikTok and all that mess."

"Dad. I beg to differ." She says so matter-of-factly. "I get a lot from TikTok. If anything, I'm up late cause I'm learning."

"Please. You could also learn alot from those books you carry into the school I pay heavily for."

"Yes, okay, but I learn other things. Like how to do cute hairstyles for myself. How to cook one pot dishes. What's important in an emergency kit. How to file taxes. Ou, and let's not forget the cool goodies on TikTok shop—"

"Why would you learn filing taxes on there?" Yunho furrows his brows. "It's not even something you need to worry about now."

"It's helping me prepare for the real world." She cocks a brow up and turns slightly. "What if you get too busy and forget to teach me?"

"Like you're not gonna pick up the phone to call me and have me do it for you when you get older." Yunho crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

"See, no. I'll learn."

"Jeez, times really have changed."

"You're only 31 but you sure sound like you're turning 80." She looks at him with a small teasing smile even though he's squinting his eyes at her.

"I'll just act like you didn't say that." He playfully scoffs.

"Dad, don't you ever go on Instagram or Twitter? Anything?"

"Not like I used to. My Instagram is probably collecting cobwebs." She chuckles. "I just don't find it useful."

"I mean, you can see what your friends are up to. Like Uncle Hwa or Uncle Mingi. They post alot, no?"

"Your uncles don't even do anything fun. They aren't even fun."

"Uncle Mingi travels a lot!" Yunho shrugs and nods in agreement. "Anyway, there's also good resources on there, actually."

"I would have never thought Twitter or Instagram could be categorized as resources."

"Pushing 85 now." He's playfully rolling his eyes now.

"Hurry and eat so we can get you to school on time." He checks his watch. "You have practice today, right?"

"Mhm."

"Are you riding home with Chan-mi?"

"Yup!"

"Sorry, ace. I'll be home a bit after you, okay?" Seora smiles toothlessly at her father when she hears the beloved nickname slip from his lips. It had been a long time coming with that nickname, but Seora loves every bit of it. She knows it's her dad's way of saying he's proud of her in every way; all the good grades she gets, the games she plays, the hard days in and out of practice.

She is his ace, his everything.

"No big." She cleans up her plate and drinks the rest of her milk before washing her dishes.

"Text me what you want for dinner later." She nods, facing him after setting the dishes on the rack.

"Ready." She throws her backpack strap over her shoulder.

"Alright." He grabs his bag and his thermos before handing Seora her lunch bag. He takes one last look around the kitchen to make sure all is good and unplugged before heading out the door to the car. Seora is patiently waiting at the passenger's door, already scrolling away on her phone.

"Goodmorning you two!" Auntie Love, the next door neighbor, calls out. Yunho and Seora have grown a fond, wholesome relationship with their neighbors— they call themselves Auntie Love and Uncle Po. Despite having that relationship, Yunho feels like he doesn't know much about them besides the fact that their kids are grown and off doing their own thing— barely visiting cause of busy lives. At least, he's never seen them visit while he's around. They're sweet, and they always bring over food and check up on Seora when she's home alone while Yunho is still finishing up at work. "Where's my sweet girl?" Auntie Love comes running out in her pajamas just to give Seora a big bear hug. "Yunho, she grows more and more beautiful every day."

"Yeah she does, and the attitude grows, too!" She laughs just as he hops in the driver's seat, waving them off for the day.

"Dad." She buckles her seatbelt at the same time as he father, giving him the green light to drive off.

"That's me." Seora snorts. "What's up?"

"Have you ever met Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids?"

"Never." Granted, Yunho and Seora just moved to their current spot about a year and a half ago, starting fresh in a smaller house that would be perfect for the two of them. But, he does find it a little odd that he's never even ran into them once. "I know they exist, I just never see them when I'm around. It's also kinda crazy cause Auntie Love said her daughter works at the same hospital as me, but it's such a huge hospital, I don't think we'd ever cross paths."

"That's pretty crazy if you did and you just didn't know it." Seora looks out the window. "I wonder why they don't visit often. They seem like such cool parents."

"People get busy and have their own lives to end to. Plus, the sad thing about parenting is that we prepare our kids to tough it out in the world without us." Yunho playfully pinches her cheeks, making her laugh a bit.

"I'll always need you." Yunho smiles.

"You say that now, but once you find your footing in the world and someone who will take care of you, I'll be a long distant memory."

"Stop. Don't say that. I'll always need you." She repeats, tugging onto his free arm and hugging onto it like a koala. Yunho laughs at her as she continues to tug on his arm, giving it a few more playful tugs before she's letting go. "Dad."

"Yes?"

"Can you take me and my friends shopping this weekend?"

"Oh, so that's why you were being that way?" He pokes fun at her and she laughs.

"No! It's obviously because I love you."

"I love you, too." He smiles. "What're you guys trying to do?"

"I wanna buy more stuff for my scrapbook. Like stickers and stuff. And they just wanna walk around an shop. Do cute girly things." She shimmies a bit in her seat.

"Don't you have a ton of scrapbooking supplies sitting on your desk?" Yunho flawlessly turns down the street, approaching the lot to her school.

"I'm running through them. Plus, I need more highlighters and pens. And there's a new edition of the sticker books I buy." She pouts and pleads. "Please, please, please!"

"Seora." He laughs. "Yeah, cause you could certainly use more." He jokes. "Sure. Just let me know. But!"

"But?" She looks at him.

"As long as I can drag one of your uncles along."

"Duh." She laughs. "You're the best." She mumbles as she types away on her phone, Yunho pulling into a spot to walk her towards the school entrance. He helps her with her backpack, duffle bag and lunch bag, trailing behind his daughter with his hands in his pockets. He greets a few parents and teachers, pausing in his tracks just as they get to the steps. She turns to look at him, a smile on her face. Yunho looks at her and still can't believe his babygirl is already 11, going on 12 soon. She's tall, just like her father. She's got the same eyes and smile, but she definitely has similarities to Eunha. She's become quite the athlete, head deep in her books.

Time sure flies.

"See you later, ace. Have a good day at school and practice, k? Remember, text me when you get home and what you're craving for dinner." She nods, throwing her arms around her dad before they do their little handshake.

"I will. Have a good day too, gramps." He rolls his eyes again and shakes his head as he watches her walk up the steps and disappear into the main lobby of the school.

"Goodmorning Yunho." One of the moms passing by waves and smiles sweetly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she tries to keep her blushing subtle. He gives her a simple nod of acknowledgement with a tiny smile, slipping into his car to head to work.

Yunho can't really remember the time he went on a real date.

He has met a few women, but super casually. He didn't really feel anything special with anyone, and he's someone who loves to connect with people. Otherwise, he finds it to be a waste of time. He's not sure how people [aka Uncle Mingi and Uncle Seonghwa] slept around without getting attached; he doesn't think he could pull it off the same way.

Plus, he comes with a forever plus one. His Seora, his babygirl, his ace. And he will always put her before anything, anyone.

Maybe Yunho was just numb. Losing Eunha was the hardest thing he's ever had to endure, and he still feels it 'till this day, as if that accident was yesterday. Seora had been shy over 4 years old when she was tragically struck by an oncoming drunk driver, leaving her car to flip off the highway. Seora barely got to live her life with her mother and that's what aches the most for Yunho. He knows she's fine, and he knows he's tried his best all these years to help shape her into who she is today. But, he knows there is a part of her that misses her mother terribly, that yearns for a mother's love even though Yunho has done everything he can to fill the shoes for both.

So, he thinks about that when he goes on dates. He could never replace Eunha, but he also knows him and Seora are good with where they're at. No one else needed to come into the mix to disrupt their flow for now. Although, he yearns for love too, though. He is scared, but he is equally sad that the truest, most raw form of love he's ever experienced was stripped away from him so fast— he barely got to indulge in Eunha being there as his wife. He's not sure if he'll ever move past it, even though Seonghwa and Mingi tell him time and time again that he deserves to experience love despite everything that's happened.

That he's still deserving of it, and that he should try to open his heart up to it.

He isn't sure how Seora would be though, and that's the most important thing for him. Because he just wants his daughter to be happy. He will always put her first.

When he drives off to work, he pulls into the staff garage and flashes his badge to the security guard waiting at the booth. He drives down to the 2nd level before he's able to find a spot and reverses into it flawlessly. He shuts off the car and grabs his backpack, heading straight to the stairs to bring him back up to the ground level and entrance of the main hospital.

The main hospital has 8 floors, with the emergency room off to the side and valet at the front for patient pickup. It's connected to an adjacent building, the older hospital— which has 3 floors and the older emergency room at the back end of the building. The pediatrics hospital is right behind the main hospital but there isn't a bridge connecting the two; staff typically have to take a 5-10 minute walk over if they need anything on that end. Along the ways are food trucks and mobile coffee trucks, with cafeterias and smaller cafés and shops situated inside the buildings itself.

The hospital is huge and could literally float and function as its own island if it wanted to.

"Morning, Yunho!" One of the front desk staff members greets him. Yunho sends them a small salute, before smiling and responding back.

"Goodmorning!" Yunho's dressed in jeans and a thick black sweater, the colder weather slowly making its way in at this time of the year. He heads up to the second floor, his office nestled in the corner of the huge office space dedicated to his IT team and part of the administrative team. He greets everyone goodmorning on the way over, setting his things down before he comes out to chat a bit with his team members.

"Yo." He leans against an empty desk while sipping on his coffee.

"Sup boss." Taehyun swings around in his chair, while his other two coworkers, Kyung-soo and Jihoon plop into their chairs. "How's it going?"

"Alright, not too bad." Yunho chuckles. "How about you?"

"All good, can't complain." His main team is made up of 10 people— Taehyun being the team lead, the others branching into specifics like system administrators, helpdesk techs and cybersecurity. His team alone supports a few departments since the hospital is so huge— other IT teams are spread out to cover other remaining wings; plus, the older hospital and the pediatrics corner. From time to time, they'll hop in and help if needed. Without Taehyun's help triaging and prioritizing certain tasks, Yunho wouldn't be able to focus on the high-level aspects of his job. Of course, their team meshes with so many different departments within the hospital— they're all involved deeply in current ongoing and new developments.

"Didn't seem like we got too many tickets last night? Any urgent action items come up in the last hour or so?" Taehyun shakes his head.

"Not really. We've been sorting through and closing out those tickets. Most have been quick fixes." Yunho nods.

"Sounds good. I gotta work on that new clinical project that's opening up on the fifth floor soon. Might loop some of you guys in to help with the Epic implementation and other tweaks we might need to incorporate for patient ordering."

"Aye! They're finally moving forward with it?" Yunho chuckles.

"Yeah, I guess they've slowly been recruiting patients for their program so they've been moving at a quick pace for the space and everything."

"Sick, that'll be a big project."

"Yup, already starting to feel like it. Thanks for handling those tickets. If we can make sure we stay on top of the queue and help get the AV system going for the board meeting happening in the next hour, that would be great." Yunho goes through a few other priorities he needs his team members to focus on, thanking them for all their hardwork before excusing himself to the office and beginning his own project planning and schedule organization.

He's got a few higher-level meetings to hop into, especially to debrief about the new clinical department opening up and its current timeline. He also needs to set some time aside to brainstorm the data migration request he got a few days ago for another department, along with figuring out how to structure this new department's servers, bandwidth and storage.

It doesn't sound like much, but Yunho definitely has his day cut out for him.

And as he expected, he's barely getting a moment to breathe. Especially when Taehyun pulls him into an urgent server issue that has him thinking on his feet for close to 15 minutes until he realizes the best way to move forward without any major data loss. Then, he's making it to the next meeting but he is already exhausted and hungry. He doesn't get the chance to grab lunch until 1:30pm— Yunho rushing over to the cafeteria to grab today's lunch special before they stop offering hot food.

"Today ended up being a lot busier than expected." Yunho mumbles as he slips into a seat, Taehyun and Jihoon following suit in the spaces in front of him.

"Seriously. Thanks for your help with the servers."

"All good." Yunho chuckles. "Sooner or later, we'll find better ways to tackle those issues. I know we're gonna have to work on upgrades soon."

"Agreed. And it's probably about time." Jihoon chimes in. "I know we were kinda brushing it off for a bit but I'm slowly seeing it crumble." Yunho nods.

"Nah, I agree. I'll think about it over the next few days. Let me know if you guys have any ideas." Yunho sips his water. "I'll also need your help for the clinical project a lot sooner than expected. I'll forward any invites so you two can start attending meetings. It'll be good for you to get involved now so you have a better idea of the setting and the trials taking place in this new department."

"Sounds good! Let me know if you need anything else, we'll be happy to help out." Yunho smiles and cocks his head to the side.

"Thanks. How's everything else been with you guys? I've been going through candidates, but I expect us to interview and wrap up the whole thing by next month. We'll get some extra help."

"Thanks, boss. That's good to hear." Taehyun hums. "And hm, I think everyone's completely fine and taking it day by day. No one seems to be unhappy."

"We've got a good team and good people around us so I can't complain either. Days are busy but wouldn't want it any other way." Jihoon takes a spoonful of food into his mouth and shrugs. "Got a good manager." He points at Yunho.

"Well, least I'm doing something right?" Taehyun laughs and shakes his head.

"Have a little faith, will you?" Taehyun smiles. "The team doesn't go anywhere without you."

"I think it's the other way around for sure."

"Hey." Seonghwa pops in and sits next to Yunho. Taehyun and Jihoon nod at Seonghwa and send their usual greetings, Yunho knitting his brows at how flustered he looks.

"You okay? Should I even ask?" Seonghwa shakes his head.

"Just tired." Seonghwa takes a bite of the sandwich he brought over. "This health fair we've been planning is driving me crazy. Vendors have been too flakey and our deadline to finalize everything is next week. Plus, I gotta get those interviews and articles done for the new department by next week, too." Seonghwa is one of the marketing and communications managers for the hospital. He had been working here for a bit longer than Yunho, and actually introduced him to the hiring manager and IT director when they were in dire need of building a new team to support the growth of the new main hospital. They had both been working there for a couple of years, Seonghwa organically growing from the bottom up since he had started. Yunho respects him alot [besides the fact that he's one of his bestfriends], and admires his work ethic. Seonghwa is probably one of the constants in his life that helps push him to where he needs to be and serves as a reminder that he needs to keep going regardless of what life brings to the table.

"I bet you're hella roped into the fine details for that." Taehyun says.

"Yeah, and it doesn't help that the core faculty members are all crazy busy. They're all psychiatrists and neurosurgeons. I can barely get them to respond about meeting with me to talk about it." Seonghwa sighs. "Anyway, that's all. I just needed to let that out, so thanks." They all chuckle.

"Yeah." Yunho looks at him. "Going to that huge introductory meeting later this week then?"

"Mhm."

"By the way, how's you and Seora?" Taehyun asks.

"My ace!" Seonghwa adds.

"We're as good as we can be." Yunho smiles, eyes looking down at the polaroid on the back of his phone that Seora slipped in. It's a picture of them two at the amusement park, wearing cute headbands per her request.

"That's good. School and basketball still treating her okay?" Yunho nods. "Cool. I'm glad you're doing okay. I just wasn't sure when I could ask since you've been so busy."

"You can always pop into my office." Yunho laughs. "But, thank you. I appreciate you guys for asking and for all your help."

"Does she have a game soon?" Seonghwa cuts in to ask.

"Think so. Pretty sure."

"Let me know. I'll try and make it." Seonghwa's eyes are traveling across the room, situated on a person as they grab their lunch and sit at a table on the opposite end of the room.

"How's that going?" Yunho follows his gaze and lets out a small laugh. Jihoon and Taehyun can't help themselves either, subtly looking over their shoulder to see what has gotten Seonghwa all quiet. It's Yoori, one of the Directors of Space and Planning, and the same girl he had been seeing recently.

"I dunno. It's alright I guess."

"Do you think you'll end up in something serious with her?"

"No." Seonghwa chuckles it off, but internally, he's torn between keeping Yoori as his past-time or his full-time.

"She seems to like you a lot already." Yunho continues to look at Yoori as she talks to her coworkers. She's about 4 years older than them. Was in a long term relationship that ended a few months ago, according to Seonghwa. He thought it was a good opportunity to get to know her and have some fun, assuming she wouldn't be ready for a relationship. He might've been wrong because yeah, she does like him a lot already. She's been hinting at it a lot. It's not that Seonghwa can't see them being something serious— he's just not sure if he's ready to jump into that or take that road right now.

He likes his independence and he likes having fun, he's not gonna lie about it.

"Yeah, but we already talked about where we were at and she agreed on it, so."

"Uh huh.." Yunho responds. "You know, it's okay to want something serious." He chuckles. But, before Seonghwa can respond, he nods towards the aisle ahead.

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "Speaking of something serious to get into."

"Hey Yunho!" One of the nurses, Ara, passes by with her friends, smiling at him. "Seonghwa, Taehyun, Jihoon." She gives them nods of acknowledgements.

"Sup!" They all say in their own way.

"Hey Ara." He looks up at her.

"Haven't seen you around for awhile?"

"Just been running around is all."

"Locked up in his office actually—" Taehyun says, causing Yunho to press on his foot under the table. "Ouch— yeah, we've all been busy."

"I see." She giggles. "How's Seora?"

"Good!"

"Give her a big hug for me." Ara smiles. "We should definitely grab some dinner one day and hang out. Bring Seora, too!"

"For sure! Sounds fun."

"See you around then, maybe?" She subtly bites onto her bottom lip as her friends giggle away and hurry along to a table.

"Yeah, I'll see you." She waves for one last goodbye before reuniting with her friends. Seonghwa lets out a small snort, while Taehyun and Jihoon quietly poke away at their food with a smirk growing on their lips.

"Um, so." Jihoon laughs when he's the first to break the silence. "She's definitely interested."

"And Yunho definitely should take the opportunity." Seonghwa responds right away, making Yunho shake his head.

"Nah."

"Why not? She's literally opening the door in front of you. Doesn't hurt to try."

"Could be fun. Doesn't have to be serious." Jihoon adds. "She's cute."

"You should see where it takes you. No harm in letting it go if it doesn't pan out as expected." Taehyun also adds his two cents.

"Was not expecting to get lectured by you three during lunch." They laugh.

"Seriously." Seonghwa looks at him. "It's been awhile since you've went on a date. Just see where it goes." Yunho stays silent as he pokes at his food, thinking about the whole thing. It couldn't hurt just to see where it'd take him— and quite frankly, he could use someone new to talk to and hang out with. It doesn't necessarily mean it needs to work out into anything. "I will literally sit at home with Seora and keep her occupied when you take Ara out." Yunho sighs and finally meets his gaze.

"Really now? I'm holding you to it."

"Yes! Not like I haven't before. Could use time to hangout with my ace and bring back the favorite uncle title." Yunho chuckles.

"Yeah, gotta say. Mingi has been taking over." Yunho says just to rile him up even though there's no such thing for Seora; she loves her uncles equally.

"Well, fuck Mingi." Taehyun and Jihoon laugh. "Ask her later. Or tomorrow. Promise me. It doesn't have to turn into anything but at least get out of the house and hang out with a fresh face." Seonghwa turns back to his food. "But for your sake, I hope it does." He mumbles, causing Yunho to nudge him.

"Fine, but no promises on a specific outcome."

"My job here is done." Seonghwa sips on his soda and tosses a crumpled napkin into the sandwich wrapper.

"Shoulda known."

"I was just gonna catch up with you guys, not my fault she happened to walk by at the same time." Seonghwa chuckles and stands. "Gotta get back to my desk and start pressing people for answers. See you guys around." He stands and grabs his trash, making his way to the trash can before walking off out of the cafeteria.

"He's right." Taehyun shrugs. "Gotta try and see where it goes. You deserve to take a break and have some fun. You always work so damn hard."

"And we all know how much Seora means to you and comes first, but you gotta think about yourself, too." Yunho chuckles as he takes his last forkful and sits back in his seat.

"Thanks guys."

"Just looking out for you." Jihoon stretches. "Anyway, time to head back?"

"Yup. I gotta get ready for my next meeting." They all stand and slowly make their way out of the cafeteria, throwing their trash into the appropriate bins.

Yunho's day ends a little after 5:45pm, which is when rush hour hits. He's heading downtown to pick up the food Seora requested, making sure to place the order ahead of time so he can just pick it up and go. As expected, he hits traffic and it takes him an extra 15 minutes to get deep into downtown. It's crazy everywhere, and all Yunho can do is look forward to getting home.

seora: daddy-o i am home

seora: honey-soy glazed fried chicken and kimchi fried rice from chick'n coop pls!

seora: pls pls pls <3333 love youuu

Luckily, he's able to snag a spot in front of the restaurant. It's a 15 minute spot, so he quickly runs in and grabs the food, thanking the friendly staff before running out and getting back into the car. He's not entirely excited about the trek home in all this chaos, but he finds it worth it when he reminds himself of how happy Seora will be when he gets home with her current craving.

So, his usual 30 min drive home ends up being 45 from inner downtown with all the traffic. He parks his car out front before grabbing his things and pulling on his car handle to make sure the doors are locked. When Yunho unlocks the front door, the house is quiet but it doesn't worry him one bit because he knows exactly where Seora is. He kicks off his shoes, setting the bag of food down on the counter before placing his bag down on a dining table chair. He turns down the hallway towards Seora's room, her door slightly ajar. He gives it a few knocks before he's poking his head in, finding her deep in her books at her desk— those huge Bose headphones she asked for last Christmas sitting on her head while she works on her homework.

"Ace." She surprisingly turns her head towards the door, but it's probably because she felt her father's looming figure standing there. She smiles and shoves off her headphones, playfully jumping on her dad while he wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly.

"You're home!" Yunho laughs as she gently hops off.

"How was school and practice?" She shrugs, walking back to her desk.

"Um, it was okay? The usual."

"Got lots of homework?" She shakes her head.

"Not really. I'm about to finish up!"

"Why don't you wrap it up so we can have dinner and watch our show together?" She chuckles.

"Okay. I'll be out in a sec." Yunho nods, shutting her door before heading out to wash up and get comfy for the evening. He heads to his room and takes a piping hot shower before completing his routine and slipping into a shirt and some flannel pajamas. He heads into the kitchen to unpack dinner, setting out the plates and utensils for him and Seora. He's not usually a stickler about these things— there are days when the two of them sit at the table and talk about everything and anything, then there's days where they'll plop onto the living room floor to eat at the coffee table and watch a show or movie. Any moment spent with Seora is a cherished moment for Yunho, and he'll never take any of it for granted;

Not when she's growing up so damn fast.

Yunho remembers when Seora was born— him and Eunha were shy over 20 years old. Young, dumb and naive; so incredibly unsure of how they'd move forward with having a child so young, how they'd make it without the support they hoped to have. Both their parents didn't think they were ready and tried to force other agendas on them, ones that didn't include being in Seora's life and Eunha was almost convinced it was the better route solely because of all the noise and talk in her ear. But, Yunho didn't want any of it at all. He wanted to be in Seora's life, he wanted to raise her, he wanted to go through life's ups and downs with her— even if that meant their parents wouldn't agree and would cut off ties.

All that mattered was Seora and Eunha.

So, they had her. Yunho and Eunha had the hardest, most challenging time trying to work to get by, all while finishing school over the years. They packed up and moved to different in-laws, renting rooms in random homes until they could afford a tiny studio to build in for awhile. They pushed through no matter how rough it got because they were both on the same page and understood the end goal: providing for Seora and being able to give her a comfortable life. Their parents weren't the happiest; hence, the disconnect between Seora and both her grandparents. When Eunha passed, her parents cut off ties completely because they claimed it was too painful to. Yunho's parents on the other hand, will see their granddaughter once in a blue moon over a quick meal. Otherwise, they send over birthday and holiday cards with extra cash wishing her the best. Yunho doesn't really have a great relationship with them anyway, and when he does manage to have dinner with them, he tries to keep it civil.

Keyword: tries.

Things changed when Seora hit 7 years old and was smart enough to pick up on their cues. She realized her grandparents didn't really wanna be a part of her life like that and that was hurtful for Yunho to see. She'd question why they weren't there to see her exceed during the sports competitions in summer camp, she'd question why they wouldn't go to her little school dance recitals. She'd question why they weren't there when she'd win Student of the Month or when they'd have fall and spring family festivals.

She questioned why they weren't there and Yunho didn't have an answer for her.

But, since they are his parents, he tries to keep that window open out of respect. In the end, he knows it would truly just be them two against the world, and that was completely fine. Yunho made it this far throughout all the trials and tribulations— he's sure he can handle anything else that comes their way.

"Yay!" Seora squeals when she comes out into the living room and plops next to her dad on the floor. "Thank you." She smiles at him and he chuckles.

"You're welcome. Good choice for dinner." She begins to plop some fried rice onto her plate, followed by pieces of the honey-soy glazed chicken wings.

"Been craving it for so long."

"You could've just asked for it." Yunho switches it to their favorite zombie apocalypse show.

"I know, but I know you have long days at work so I feel bad for asking you to stop by."

"I appreciate that." Yunho laughs. "But, I want you to know that I don't mind, okay? Just let me know and I'll make the stop."

"You really are the best." She mutters just as she takes a bite into her chicken.

"You know what we haven't done in awhile?"

"Hm?" Her eyes widen at the scene, and she lets out a small 'oh my god, run!' in between.

"We haven't gone out for our usual father/daughter dates."

"You're right." She takes a spoonful of rice into her mouth. "Can we go next weekend? I think I have a game that Saturday, but in the morning."

"Yeah, what do you wanna do?" She grabs the remote to pause the show.

"Hold on, I need to think about this." She looks up in thought. "I wanna go to the movies to catch Wicked. But, I wanna go to the theater that has the cute suites with the couches inside."

"Okay. But, let me get this straight." Yunho laughs and takes a sip of his beer. "You wanna do that with me and not your friends?"

"They're surprisingly not all that into it. We might later on, but I definitely wanna watch it with you cause I know you'll enjoy it either way." Yunho nods.

"What else? More shopping? More eating out?"

"They opened up that new dog café downtown."

"Let's go then."

"Bbq after it all?"

"Sounds like a good date to me."

"Dad, for the next-next one, we should drive somewhere or do something outdoorsy or active. Like those indoor rock climbing gyms."

"Woah." He laughs loudly. "Yeah, actually. We should. I'll start planning something for a weekend you don't have any games."

"Woohoo! Sick. Now I can beat you at rock climbing and rub it in your face." She claps and gently headbutts her dad's arm before resuming the show.

"Seora." Yunho looks over at her with a fond smile.

"Uh huh? Holy crap—" She responds to the show before quickly glancing over at him, then back to the TV. "Yeah, dad?"

"Love you." He makes it a point to always remind her because he doesn't want her to feel like she's lacking in love anywhere, despite no longer having her mother or her grandparents around. He is hoping he's enough to fill their shoes. "You know that, right?" He gently tickles her and she squeals.

"Yes! Oh my god, don't do that!" He laughs. "I love you too." Yunho sits back against the couch and fully immerses himself in dinner and the show— responding just as animatedly as Seora. They get through about four 50-min episodes, a little bit into the fifth before Seora is beginning to yawn like crazy, almost falling asleep on the opposite end of the couch.

"Ace." Yunho gently shakes her by the shoulder after pausing the show and slowly cleaning up the coffee table.

"I'm definitely not falling asleep." He snorts.

"You sure are. We'll pick this up again tomorrow. You had a long day." She sits up and yawns, stretching before she rubs at her eyes.

"Practice killed me today. Coach had us running suicides up and down the court for warm up."

"That's a good way to start practice." She nods and sleepily begins her walk off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her nightly routine.

"I'm off!"

"Goodnight, sleep well. Don't stay up on your phone for too long."

"I won't, I won't. Actually—" She lazily pauses and walks back to give Yunho a hug. "Night dad." He playfully squeezes her before planting a chaste kiss to the top of her head and ruffling her hair.

"Night." He watches her finally walk off to the bathroom before turning his attention to the dishes in the sink. He takes his time washing them thoroughly before wiping down the kitchen counters, the dining table and living room coffee table. He slips the leftovers into Seora's tupperware for lunch tomorrow, prepping snacks for himself and Seora to take as well.

He'll probably head to the cafeteria and buy himself something to eat.

Once he's satisfied with his cleaning, he shuts off the lights and double checks the doors before heading into his room on the opposite side of Seora's. He lets out a sigh, exhaustion fully hitting him at this time. He gets himself ready for bed, brushing his teeth and doing his final round of skincare before plopping onto his bed and turning on his own TV. He lowers the volume slightly, the TV now just giving off soft background noise to fill the void. Before he could really settle in, his phone rings— a call coming in from his other bestfriend.

"What?" Mingi scoffs hearing Yunho's greeting.

"You're such a dick, you know that?" Yunho laughs as Mingi continues to whine. "I called to check on you and that's all I get?"

"Jesus, relax. What's wrong?"

"I'm just saying! You didn't even text me back."

"Sorry, I got caught up. Work was busy today, then I stopped by to grab some food Seora's been craving. We were watching our show all night and just finished up not too long ago." Yunho briefly puts him on speaker phone to check Mingi's text.

mingi: wanna do something this weekend?

"I just asked if you wanted to do something this weekend." Yunho responds anyway, just to give him what he wants.

yunho: no

"Well, okay. It doesn't even matter anymore, why are you responding now?!" Mingi's voice turns up a pitch.

"You wanted me to text you back." Yunho laughs. "No can do anyway. I told Seora I'd take her and the girls shopping. Unless.. you wanna tag along?"

"How sweet. You want me to keep you company?"

"We can go on our own date while they shop." Mingi chuckles.

"Yeah, sure."

"What did you have in mind originally?"

"Just walking around the city or grabbing dinner. Nothing too fancy."

"What's Hwa doing? Saw him earlier but didn't really get a chance to ask."

"Hanging out with that girl he's been talking to for a two weeks and three days. What's her name? Yoori?"

"Mhm. You're oddly specific." Yunho snorts.

"I don't think it'll last, if I'm being honest." Mingi laughs.

"He's having fun."

"As with the others. Anyway. When's ace's next game?"

"The following Saturday. I gotta check the exact time, but it's an early one. Was planning to take her out afterwards."

"No invite to that?"

"No, dude. My time with my daughter." He sighs.

"I want one."

"Then stop fucking around and settle down." Yunho chuckles. "Also not just something you can want like a toy, Mingi. You know it's way more than that."

"No, I know. You and Eunha did well with Seora, seriously. You're like her bestfriend."

"That's my girl." Mingi nods to himself because he does eventually wanna settle down and have a family, but he's mainly proud of the way Yunho has gracefully tackled life despite all the ups and downs. He wasn't afraid to ask for help when he really needed it, leaning on him and Seonghwa when times were incredibly trying. Taking turns babysitting and driving the girl to and from places, helping buy groceries or cook for the two. Sometimes, Seonghwa or Mingi would offer to hang out with her for a day or so just so Yunho could get some time to himself. For the most part though, Yunho and Eunha did their best. Yunho did his best to pick himself up and carry on for the both of them after Eunha passed. He's not sure how he managed, but he did. He commends Yunho cause he isn't sure how he'd do it if he was in his place.

He hopes his bestfriend can be genuinely happy one day. Yunho says he is but Mingi knows he isn't. There's always gonna be that empty space and that void that he'll look past, and he's worried it'll be too much to bear when times get tough again. Yunho feels like he has everything being by Seora's side and Mingi doesn't doubt that at all.

Still, it must get lonely at times.

"Anyway, I'll let you be. Just wanted to check in. Tell ace I said hi and give her a big hug for me. Send me the details of her game when you can and what time you need me to be ready this weekend."

"Yeah, I will."

"Alright, peaaace." Yunho ends the call and sticks his phone onto the charger. On his nightstand is a photo of him, Eunha and Seora when Seora just turned three— they took her up to the snow so she could play around and enjoy herself. He picks up the photo and smiles as he stares at Eunha's face, truly missing her presence until this day.

That's probably the one other thing that stops him when he thinks about seriously dating again and seeing people. He knows he shouldn't compare but he can't help himself when Eunha was ripped away from his life so suddenly; all he knows is Eunha. They were always on the same page. They weren't perfect, and they sure as hell had their ups and downs. But, they both had the end goal of making it together and being the best parents Seora could have. There was that mutual understanding, that same determination and grit to push through regardless of how tough it got.

He doesn't think he could find a partner in crime like that ever again. Maybe, he just isn't destined to.

And for now, that's okay.

It's okay because he has Seora, and she is the biggest reminder, the biggest vessel of love that he needs.

For now, he thinks he's okay.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies

432 notes · View notes

soy-garbage · 1 year ago

Text

JJK SMAU RECOMMENDATIONS !

Hi everyone!! i always have trouble finding jjk smaus so if you're like me then this list is for you! all the credit for the works goes to the amazing authors who made them, and if you wrote any of these and are seeing my post: MWUA!! Thank you for the great content!!! ≧◡≦<33 (part 2 here!)

(Completed: ✿)

(On going: ★)

･:*SMAU SERIES! :

Is There Someone Else / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// you didn’t care that you were getting cheated on. truthfully you believed you deserved it, you would go as far to call it karma even; you reap what you sow. but the same can’t be said for your best friend. So if you weren’t going to break up with your boyfriend for your sake? well then you’d break up with him for your best friend’s sake.

Rewrite it / Gojo Satoru x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// Gojo had never once stopped being completely in love with you, and he regrets his actions to this day—constantly thinking about how he could rewrite it if he could. but now that you’re back in his life, the question is: can he?

The Stars Align / Nanami Kento x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// nanami has never cared for soulmates. the idea was never appealing to him, and he thinks it’s complete bullshit once he meets you because how could someone as perfect as you not be his soulmate?

TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// wherein you spend your every waking day talking to a guy who you just met on a random dating app.

DAYLIGHT / Nanami Kento x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// nanami thought he did what was best for y/n when he broke up with her, but he could not have been more wrong. he isn’t making it better when he accidentally sends her a follow request and doesn’t even realize.

THE ONE AND ONLY CUPID / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// Itadori yuji is behind the account “the one and only cupid” where others in tokyo can anonymously ship two people they think should get together. what happens when you’re suddenly shipped with fushiguro megumi whom you’ve never talked to before and why do you all of a sudden have to see him in the school hallway every single day?

it’s a match! / Gojo Satoru x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// in which you match with a horny gojo on tinder

Apple cider / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// you and megumi have known each other since jr. high. eventually, things get out of hand and you end up falling out. you meet again in tokyo jujutsu high only to remember old issues and realize new feelings.

･:*SMAU ACCOUNTS! :

@satoruoo

@bbunisre

@inmaki

@tahiti-island-dream

That's it!! i'll probably be updating it later but so far these are the ones i found!! check out all the accounts i tagged! i love their content and i'm sure you will too<3

thank you for reading ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡

(@romantichomicide95 here's some more recommendations!)

( All the credit of the smaus goes to the accounts who made them! : @tamakigf @piichuu @satorunii @todayisawthewhxlewxrld )

#jjk smau #gojo satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smau #gojo satoru smau #smau #jujutsu kaisen #jjk texts

638 notes · View notes

oopsallgoalies · 8 months ago

Text

False Confidence: Chapter 13

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I’m back!!! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this update! It’s been a long time coming and I’m glad to be settled to the point where I can start writing again!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Not many things in your life have been as hard as having to leave Seattle the morning after Valentine’s Day. You and Javy had stayed up all night, walking around the Seattle center after the Space Needle, and eventually heading back to his hotel room. Despite your initial nerves, the two of you had sat on his couch and simply talked until Josie knocked on the door to let you know it was time to go. You’d felt the physical heartache as you forced yourself to walk through his door and you know it must have been showing on your face because Javy simply grabbed his jacket and tagged along in the Uber to the airport, keeping an arm around you without another word. Despite that extra half hour together you still held him tight as the Uber lingered for Reuben and Javy at the deserted drop-off area.

While you’re extremely thankful to Josie for the Valentine’s Day surprise, it’s made the rest of your week unbearable, and you could barely do anything but watch the clock, waiting for Friday. Things have gotten even harder now that you know that Javy’s back in town. He’s just on the other side of town and you can barely hold yourself back. You still have a day of work and Javy’s probably exhausted from the road trip. You tell yourself that he’s at home, asleep, and you shouldn’t bother him, that you shouldn’t be so desperate, and yet you’re aching to text him and ask if he wants to grab dinner because you’re not sure you can wait until your plans tomorrow to see him.

You’ve resorted to turning your phone off and banishing it to the bottom of your deepest desk drawer and throwing yourself into your teaching to try and keep your mind off him. It was working, for the most part at least, but now that your students have been dropped off in the cafeteria for lunch and you’re faced with your empty classroom, your thoughts run wild in the space. Josie’s not even here to keep you company. She took the kids off-campus for lunch to meet up with Reuben. You have no idea how Josie’s done this for ten years, and you’re even more impressed with how adaptable the Fitch kids are. You’ve always known it must be hard, not having their dad around so much, but now that you’re right there alongside them in the trenches, you feel their pain acutely.

You drum your fingers on your desk as you debate releasing your phone from its prison if only just to distract yourself from the silence in the room contrasting with the loudness of your mind. Your fingers itch for the distraction, and you’re so in your own head that you almost miss the knock on your door. Head whipping up from where you were scrutinizing the wood grain of your desk, your heart leaps into your throat as you meet the pair of dark brown eyes peering through the window into your classroom. Your body moves before your brain, tripping over your own feet and your chair as you scramble towards the door as it swings open. Your legs give up their struggle with the chair and you go tumbling into Javy’s arms as he runs over to catch you and you let out a screech of surprise.

“Hi,” you breathe out on an exhale as you stare up at him where you’re crumpled awkwardly as he holds you up.

“Hi,” he says fondly as he smiles down at you and you bask in the warmth of his expression as he helps you find your footing.

“What are you doing here?” You can’t keep the wonder out of your voice as you’re tempted to reach out and touch his face to make sure he’s really here. He chuckles as he leans down and bumps your foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he says like it’s nothing but it sends your heart racing and you swear he can feel it pounding through your skin.

“I missed you too,” you feel your cheeks heat at the admission, at speaking the words that have been echoing in your head all week and you’re heart stops as his face brightens into a boyish smile at your words. You can’t stop yourself from kissing the smile off his face and he leans into your touch, reciprocating in kind. Kissing Javy feels like making up for lost time, it fills you up in a way that feels like bottling up sunshine, reenergizing you like you run on the solar energy that comes from simply being in his presence.

When you break apart, you can’t tear yourself far, hovering close to him and he seems to feel the same way until he pauses like something’s just occurred to him and he turns behind him and you follow him with your eyes as he scoops up a brown paper bag that’s fallen onto the floor and comes back over to you. “I brought lunch,” he explains and you’re glowing all over again as he leads you over to your desk and hands you the sandwiches he got from a place near his apartment. The food tastes spectacular but you’re pretty sure that has more to do with the company than the food itself.

Javy asks about your week and you ask him about his. You’ve had at least some idea of what he's been up to since you spent Thursday evening at the Fitch’s to watch the Colorado game together. He leans into you conspiratorially when you ask how Denver was and you try to ignore the way the proximity makes your heart skip. “I think Bradley almost proposed,” he whispers and your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t know Bradley as well as you know Zam, now that you’ve been welcomed into a group chat with the other girls since your art show, but you know from Zam that she and Bradley are particularly close.

“Didn’t they just get together a few months ago?!” You squawk indignantly and Javy laughs as he nods.

“They even broke up for a bit in December, but that’s Bradley.” Javy shrugs.

“Wait how do you know? Did he tell you?” You ask and Javy barks out a laugh.

“Bradley’s a locked vault, Meep, and only Zam has that key. But according to her, next time they go out for pizza in Denver, the team has to come because a certain someone has no self-control.” He shrugs nonchalantly but you can see conspiratorial mirth dancing in his eyes and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. The two of you sink into a comfortable silence as you eat, content just to be in each other’s presence after the time apart before Javy breaks it.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you arch an eyebrow silently as you chew, “do you think you’d be able to come to our away game in Dallas next month? It’s on a Saturday so you’d be back in time for school on Monday, and I’d take care of the tickets, but it could be fun.”

“I’d have to look at the exact date, but I should be free, yeah.” You say, smiling shyly at the fact that he’s inviting you to an away game. Somehow it feels different than going to a home game. “Of course, I’d love to come,” your heart thuds at the ease that those four letters fall off your tongue. The relief on his face is apparent and you’re confused by how it contrasts the excitement dancing in his eyes. Your head cocks in suspicion but where you’d normally bury the feeling and wallow as your anxiety sows the seeds of distrust, you feel the urge to confront Javy. Maybe it’s because he’s always been painfully honest with you. No matter how well he seems to think he is at hiding his secrets and emotions, he wears his heart on his sleeve. Maybe you can learn to do the same. “There’s more, what aren’t you telling me?” His eyes widen in surprise and you feel your heart thunder in your ears at his confirmation that he’s hiding something. It makes your stomach turn sour even as your brain screams for you to hear him out before you pull away, retreating into the hermit-crab shell in your mind.

“I…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, I just…” he shakes his head. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you, especially when you’re still at work, and I didn’t want you thinking that I was making assumptions or moving things too fast.” He’s still walking around the truth, treading carefully as he tries to slow you down and grab your metaphorical hand before you can run for the hills.

“And?” You hate how small your voice sounds. You’re supposed to be getting better. Javy’s brought you out of your shelf over the past month along with all your new friends, but it seems old habits die hard. You see something you can’t read pass through his eyes at the tone of your voice.

“My mom wants to meet you,” he says with a resigned sigh, and your brow furrows in confusion. You’d expected a lot of things, but not this. “Well my sisters too, but my mom specifically. I told her about you, about us,” you watch his hand twitch like he’s holding back from reaching for yours. “And she said she wants to meet you. The whole family usually comes up to Dallas for our away games there and she asked me to bring you.” He pauses before adding, “If you want to obviously, she didn’t ask me to kidnap you or anything.” The last addition makes a small laugh bubble up in your throat and you let it slip out to watch Javy’s shoulders relax at the sound.

You nod after a pause. “Sure, Javy, I’d love to meet your family,” your heart squeezes gently as you watch the nerves holding Javy stiff release him from their grip and you wonder if that’s what you always look like to him. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmur, a mirror of what you tell your students when you successfully get them to open up. He nods, but you can tell something’s still bothering him so you reach over and take his hand in yours, rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I mean it.” You give him a gentle smile but he’s not looking at you, instead, his eyes are focused on your joined hands. You reach your other hand to guide his chin up to look at you, trying not to get distracted by the feel of his smooth, warm skin under your fingertips.

“It’s okay, Javy. I mean it. I didn’t like you trying to keep it from me, but I understand why you did, and you apologized and I accept that apology. You’re okay. We’re okay.” You reassure him and you watch his deep brown eyes search yours before the uneasiness slowly creeps out of them. His fingers close around yours in his lap and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingers still on his chin.

“Thank you,” His voice is soft like he’s still a little unsure, but then he shakes his head like he’s fighting to keep words inside his mouth. “Are we still on for tomorrow, Meep?” You can’t stop the way your face blossoms into a smile at the mention of tomorrow and you nod enthusiastically.

“Are you going to tell me what you have planned?” You ask, trying to hide how desperate you’re becoming. Javy’s promised that he has top-secret plans for your belated Valentine’s Day plans but he’s been annoyingly vague about them since he asked you to save the day for him.

“And ruin the surprise?” He raises a cocky eyebrow that makes you scowl. He brushes another kiss to your fingers. “Not a chance.” You pout at him and he looks like he’s fighting a grin. “So impatient,” he mocks and you roll your eyes, removing your hand from his chin with a scoff that lacks any real strength. Your attention is caught by the beginnings of movement outside the classroom and your heart aches subtly at the realization that he’ll have to leave in a moment and you’ll have to return to your work like he didn’t just blow through the door and lift your mood exponentially. Once again you feel the urge to ask him if he has dinner plans but your anxiety holds you back from possibly overstepping. He’s already taken time out of his precious day off to come and bring you lunch, you don’t want it to feel like you’re smothering him. Javy’s eyes dart to the window in your door, clocking the motion outside as well and you’re convinced that you see his shoulders slump slightly, but it’s likely your own delusion. “Guess I should get out of your hair,” he says, before coming back to look at you. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable, being the subject of a person’s undivided attention but you don’t with Javy. His eyes rove over you like he’s recommitting your features to memory and you feel your cheeks heat as you take advantage of his distractedness to do the same. You can see the exhaustion from the past week lingering under his eyes and your heart aches slightly at the idea of how exhausted he must be as guilt twists your stomach. He should be home, asleep, or at the very least getting some rest.

“Get some rest, Javy,” you implore softly and he smiles gently in response.

“Don’t you worry about me, Meep, you just have a good day.” Your brows pinch together indignantly.

“I mean it, Javy.” Your voice is sharper, your teacher voice slipping through.

Javy chuckles. “Yes, Ms. Roadie,” he sing-songs, imitating your students and you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your brow relaxes and you nod.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him before adding, “That is as long as you tell me where we’re going.” You give him a pointed look.

He gives you a mysterious smile, “All good things to those who wait, Meep.” You’re about to protest again but the sounds outside your classroom rise in volume and you know your time together is almost up. Anxiety at the idea of Javy leaving knaws at your stomach and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out, arms wrapping around Javy in a tight hug. His body starts with surprise under you but he reciprocates before you can draw away and second-guess your decision. “I’m tired of waiting,” you know you sound petulant as you grumble the words into his chest, but his chuckle in your ear reassures you that he knows your words go deeper than your plans tomorrow and he feels the same.

“I’m tired of waiting, too, Meep.” He reassures you and you heave out a sigh, relishing the feeling of being in his arms for a moment longer.

***

Your knee bounces particularly hard and slams into the steering wheel as you drum your fingers on it, waiting for the light to turn green. You’ve spent the last week brainstorming ideas of what Javy’s grand plans for today would entail but instead, he surprised you by texting you last night to meet him at the arena, which seems odd since he has the day off, but you didn’t question it, knowing he probably has something in mind. He told you to dress warm but the anxiety gnawing at your gut has your brain convinced that the sleeves of your sweater are itchy. You scratch your arm for what seems like the hundredth time as you gaze at Hard Deck Arena looming ahead of you as the light finally turns green.

As expected, the private parking garage is almost empty but you spot Javy’s Land Rover and you park next to it. A quick peer inside the neighboring car confirms that Javy’s not there. You’ve been to the arena a few times now but you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re intruding as you step out of the car, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans before you make your way to the door and swiping the guest pass Zam hooked you up with a few weeks back.

The hallways are eerily quiet with the day off and the normally raucous atmosphere of the players and staff being absent. You pause, halfway down a dimly lit hallway, fishing your phone out of your pocket before you call Javy. You don’t hear a phone ring in your vicinity and you can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Did he stand you up? Even worse, are the lights about to come on and reveal a hidden camera? Is this all a prank? A familiar sense of unease twists your stomach and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you miss the click of the line picking up.

“Meep, are you here?” Javy’s voice in your ear makes you jump and you spin around like you’re expecting him to appear behind you.

“Javy?” You question the shadows around you. He chuckles in your ear.

“Hold on, Meep, I’m coming to get you. Hang tight.” His voice stops but the line doesn’t cut, a quiet reminder that you’re not alone except for the sounds of his muffled footsteps on the other side of the line as you do your best to ignore the dimly lit hallway around you as you await his arrival.

Contrary to his explicit instructions to you, Javy’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, arms bare and glowing under the dim LEDs as he jogs down the hallway towards you, grinning boyishly. He takes you by surprise when he doesn’t stop, barreling into you and sweeping you into his arms as you let out a squeal of surprise, arms instinctively reaching for his neck to hold on tight as your feet leave the ground. “Hi,” his voice is breathless with giddiness as he greets you, dark eyes boring into your own, mouth spread in a wide grin as he holds your body against his, the heat radiating off him a comfortable aura that you’re shamelessly drawn to.

“Hi,” you breathe back as the air comes back into your lungs and you gaze at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. Your mind goes back to yesterday and you nervously let the words on your tongue escape, heart fluttering at the vulnerable honestly. “I missed you.” His face is like the sun as he beams at you, surely a mirror of yours yesterday when he let the same admission slip. He rubs his nose against yours affectionately, the warmth rolling off his skin in waves meeting the shy heat of yours.

“I missed you too, Meep.” Your body relaxes instantly, reassured the moment he reciprocates. He puts you down then, but even once your feet are safe on the ground again, he keeps you caged in his arms, pressed tightly against him. He doesn’t seem keen on inviting space between your bodies and you’re hard-pressed to argue.

“So,” your curiosity bubbles to the surface from where it’s been percolating all week. “What are we doing here?” You ask, and you watch boyish mirth dance in Javy’s eyes as his lips quirk into a ghost of a smirk.

“So impatient,” he teases, leaning down to peck your cheek as your skin tightens beneath his lips as you scowl at him, no anger behind the twist of your lips. He chuckles as he pecks your pouted lips, effectively sending your brain into a tizzy. It’s still getting used to all this casual attention after years spent lacking it. “Alright then, my little roadrunner, let’s go,” your body instantly bemoans the loss of contact he pulls away but he makes up for it, sliding his hand unto yours and lacing your fingers together like he too can’t bear to not be touching.

He leads you down the dimly lit hallway with a familiarity you envy. Your feet almost stumble as you reach a slight incline and then you catch sight of light at the top. When you emerge into the arena, the contrast of the blindingly bright LEDs compared to the dimness your eyes have adjusted to makes you blink rapidly, struggling to adjust quickly to get your bearings. The cooler air confirms your suspicion until your eyes adjust to the blinding sight of the lights bouncing off the white of the ice rink. Javy waits patiently next to you as your eyes adjust and your frown of discomfort shifts into one of confusion. He clocks the difference and leads you through a clear door into the bench area. You’ve seen it through the glass before but you’ve never been in here. It seems laughably small considering that it’s meant to house several dozen men in bulky gear. You make your way to the boards that you’ve watched the boys swing over effortlessly, eyes widening as you see where it falls in comparison to your body, realizing exactly how much upper body strength it must take. You’re not sure you could do it, let alone piled under the extra pounds of hockey gear. You shake your head in disbelief before turning to where Javy’s watching you, seated on the bench.

“This is amazing,” he grins at your words.

“Just wait until we get out there, Meep.” He says, grin widening as your stomach drops and the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

“Out. There?” You squeak even as your brain has already descended into chaos as you glance from Javy’s smiling face to the white ice stretching out ahead of you. Anxiety rises up and claws up your throat as you realize exactly what Javy has planned. “Oh,” the word is a soft exhale and it must betray your fear because Javy reaches for your hands, pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “I can’t skate.” The words flood past your lips, splattering into the floor between you, laced with nerves and fear and you watch Javy’s eyes soften. He rubs circles into the flesh of your hands where they’ve started to tremble in his hold.

“I know, Meep,” he says and it doesn’t reassure you. “Nat told me, so I figured maybe I could teach you.” Your eyes widen in surprise as you slowly put things together. You look away from his gentle gaze back to the rink, the bright expanse daunting as it glows back at you. You swallow, fear sticking in your throat. Javy lets go of one of your hands, reaching to turn your chin back towards him, cupping your cheek, and sweeping his thumb across your trembling skin. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “I won’t let you fall.” The words are like hot water, thawing the ice of the nerves encasing your heart. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You believe him.

His smile turns rueful as he squeezes the hand still holding yours. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though.” Your heart squeezes painfully. “We can get out of here, forget it ever happened. We’ll go get some dinner and then we can eat at my place.” He keeps up the gentle strokes of fingers against your skin. Your nerves are still present, deep in your stomach, licking painfully at your gut but your heart glows at Javy’s words. “Don't worry about it, either. This day is for you. If you’re not comfortable, it’s not worth it.” The aching of your heart is overwhelming, drowning out the twisting of your stomach and you shake your head.

“No, I want to.” Your voice doesn’t sound convincing so you clear your throat, squeezing his hand in yours. “I’ll be okay. I want to try at least.” He smiles, soft, as he scans your face, looking for any signs that your words aren’t genuine. When he’s convinced you aren’t doing this for him, he tugs your hand, gently, standing and switching places, carefully guiding you to sit on the bench as he stands in front of you.

“Sit tight,” he says and you nod as he steps over the bench to fuss with something behind you. While you wait, you nervously bring your gaze back to the ice rink. It looks cold and unforgiving. A thought pops into your mind as you wait for Javy.

“Javy, I don’t have skates,” the words die on your lips as he steps back in front of you, and your eyes fall on the box he’s holding in his hands. It’s clumsily wrapped in pink patterned paper with a bow awkwardly perched on top and he hands you it, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Sorry, it’s not the neatest job. I probably should have just gone with a bag, but I’d already committed to the paper, and I figured since it was just a box it couldn’t be that hard.” Your eyes soften as he blubbers in front of you and you take his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“I love it.” You reassure him and you watch the nerves seep out of his body, shoulders slumping in relief. You let go of his hand so you can unwrap the box on your lap, being careful not to tear the paper too much. You know you’re going to want to keep it. Maybe you’ll try your hand at a mixed-media piece and you can find a way to incorporate it. Adding some of his work into yours. The box inside is nondescript and you open it, breath catching in surprise as you unfold the tissue paper inside to reveal its contents.

The blades of the skates sparkle under the bright lights and you reach a curious finger out to run along the surface. The skates are simple but beautiful. As you reach to pull one out to examine it better, the paper falls away and your heart clenches as a simple detail catches your eye. Along the ankle portion of the skate is a custom patch depicting the Looney Tunes Roadrunner. A surprised laugh bubbles up your throat as you run a revenant finger along the patch. When you lift the skate, you see a matching patch of Wile E. Coyote on the other skate. Your lips quirk into a smile as you look up at Javy where he’s watching you.

“They’re perfect,” you assure him and his smile widens. “I love them, thank you Javy,” you reach for him awkwardly, trying not to drop the box on your lap and he closes the gap so you can give him a hug. When he pulls away, he drops to one knee in front of you, easing the skate box off your lap and placing it on the floor by your feet he holds out a hand, and you flush as you offer him your leg, feeling silly as you watch him carefully remove your shoe and guides the skate onto your socked foot, lacing up the skate, glancing up to make sure he hasn’t pulled it too tight.

When he finishes, he takes a seat next to you, lacing his skates up with a practiced speed. Then he stands, and you gawk, looking down to see how he’s standing balanced on the blades, your nerves quickly resurfacing at the idea of having to do the same. He clocks your expression and gives you a gentle smile as he steps over to you, holding out his hands. “I told you, Meep. I won’t let you fall.” You swallow, hard, before placing your trembling fingers in his. Javy’s brow furrows and he bends down, rummaging through the box at your feet, before he produces a pair of gloves and guides them into your shaking hands. Then he laces your fingers together again. “Ready?” You nod and he squeezes your linked hands and pulls, gently helping you ease off the bench. You’re surprised when balancing isn’t as hard as you expected.

Javy carefully leads you across the rubber flooring to the small door in the boards, slipping through and holding it open with his hip and you stare at the ice. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” Javy says comfortingly, waiting patiently for you. You swallow before raising a trembling leg and placing your skate on the ice. You feel the blade slide through the ice and gasp. Javy’s hand tightens on yours and you look up from the ice to meet his eyes. “I’ve got you,” he reassures you and you squeeze his other hand and carefully step your other foot onto the ice. Your footing is much less sure now, and your legs tremble like a baby deer as your wide eyes go from the ice to Javy’s. “There you go, look at you, Meep. You’re doing it.” His pride is a little premature, you know that, but your chest still swells under his praise. “You ready to move?” You swallow, throat feeling dry, but you manage to nod anyway. He carefully pushes off, still holding tightly to your hand and he skates backward, effortlessly, slowly pulling you after him.

“Javy!” The surprise of how easily he moves and the strange feeling of gliding behind him forces the cry out of your mouth. Your weight feels unbalanced and your feet not having a proper grip on the ground is disorienting.

Javy slows to a stop, pulling you in so you’re close to him. Your hands grip his forearms tightly. “Easy, Meep, I’ve got you. Okay so to balance you’re going to want to bring your center of gravity lower, kind of reach for your knees. I’m going to let you go and-”

“NO!” You shout, fear gripping your heart at the idea of having to let go of Javy.

“Hey, hey,” Javy placates gently as your wild eyes find his. He’s calm and you force yourself to focus on him, to even your breathing. “Even if I let go, I’m right here, okay? I won’t let you fall. The moment you need me, I’ll be right here.” You swallow, hard. You’re scared which you know is ridiculous. The worst thing that can happen to you is that you fall and Javy’s reassured you that he’ll catch you if you do. You need to trust him. You do trust him. Despite the racing of your heart, you nod weakly.

“Okay,” you hate how small your voice sounds. “Okay, I can try.” Javy beams down at you.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and you feel your entire body go hot. His words echo in your ears with your heartbeat and you feel stronger. “Okay, I’m going to let go, okay? Just reach for your knees, you won’t fall.” Your heart thunders as Javy’s fingers slip from yours and you feel yourself start to wobble. “Reach for your knees,” Javy’s voice breaks through your panic and you feel your center of gravity shift as you alter your stance, the wobbling evening out. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did it!” You cry, grinning giddily up at Javy and he grins back.

“You did it!” He reassures you and then skates back a few feet, holding his hand out. “Now try to move. See if you can come over to me. Just remember, it’s not like walking. Think about how you used to skid around in your socks as a kid.” You decide against pointing out that you still do that now. “You’re going to move with your knees and push.” He skates over to you slowly and your brows furrow in concentration as you watch his motions, committing them to memory so you can try and replicate them. “Here,” he skates over to stand beside you, “just copy me, and if you start to slip, I’ll grab you.” You watch his leg and follow with your own. Your attention is glued to his legs and replicating his movements. “There you go, you’re doing it!” Javy’s cheers snap your attention from his legs and you realize how far across the rink you’ve moved. Your eyes widen and you forget to move your feet. Unfortunately, unlike on the floor, when you stop moving your feet, you don’t stop moving and you continue to glide forward. You squawk in surprise as you realize you have no idea how to stop.

“Javy! Javy, I don’t know how to stop!” You shout and Javy’s quick to skate in front of you.

“Okay, easy now,” Javy says as your panic rises. “You’re going to bring the tips of your skates in, like the point of an arrow, and keep your weight in the center.” You fight the doubts warring in your mind and try to trust Javy’s instructions, moving your feet slowly, and to your surprise, you slow to a stop right in front of Javy. You gape at your skates attached to feet that don’t feel like yours before looking at Javy who’s wearing a proud grin. “Attagirl! You did it!” He cheers, wrapping you in his arms and you sink into his before realizing that’s probably a bad idea as your combined weights are unbalanced. Javy shifts his weight almost instinctively, keeping the two of you from bowling over. “What did I say, I won’t let you fall, pretty girl.” You feel your cheeks heat as you relish being in his arms. “You did so well, Meep, I’m proud of you.” His pride warms you from head to toe and makes you feel confident. “You all skated out, or do you want to try some more?” He’s giving you an out and your new-found confidence has you shaking your head.

“I think I want to try some more,” you see pride and joy sparkle in his eyes and he helps you rearrange your weight so you can stand on your own again.

“Well then, let’s see what you’ve got, Roadrunner,” he grins at you. “You think this Coyote can catch you?” You know he could without breaking a sweat but you play along.

“We’ll just have to see,” you tease as you carefully start moving across the ice again and Javy follows right behind, sticking close.

***

An hour later, you’re exhausted and your legs are trembling from that rather than nerves as you and Javy sit side by side on the bench, unlacing your skates and trading them for your shoes. Strands of your hair stick to your forehead that’s somehow managed to get a little sweaty despite the chilly air.

“So, did you have fun?” Javy asks as he scoops up his skates, offering you his free hand to help you back to your feet. You nod, a giddy grin still on your face. You weren’t anywhere close to his level of skill but by the end, you were a lot more confident moving across the ice. And Javy had kept his promise, you hadn’t fallen once.

“Thanks for this, Javy, really. I loved it.” He pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was perfect,” he agrees before he pulls away so he can see your face as he asks, “What do you say to doing this again next weekend, maybe with some more company?” You cock your head, confused before he explains. “Next weekend is Family Day, where all the guys bring their girls and their families to the rink. We all just hang out and skate. There’s a potluck after and it’s just a team bonding event. I’ve been meaning to ask you to come but I knew you didn’t know how to skate and I didn’t want you to have to feel pressured to learn in front of a bunch of strangers. So I planned this, and I’d say you’re more than good enough to come if that’s something you want to do.”

Your heart pounds even as it aches at Javy’s concern for your comfort. You nod without a second thought. “I’d love to come, Javy.” You squeeze his hand in yours. “And thanks for looking out for me, I really appreciate it.” He smiles, the relief on his face is like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds and you smile back. “I can’t wait.” You assure him, snuggling against his side and he wraps you in his arms.

“Me neither,” he says and you can’t help but feel that despite the nerves and jitters, today has been perfect. You’re glad you didn’t let your nerves and anxiety ruin this perfect day, and you’re even more thankful to Javy for making you feel safe enough to have this much fun. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without him.

A/N: And with that, the Valentine’s Day festivities come to an end! But there’s plenty more to look forward to on the horizon! Which are you most excited for?

#san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters hockey au #false confidence // goldenseresinretriever #fc // goldenseresinretriever #javy coyote machado x you #javy machado x you #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado #coyote x you #coyote x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm #top gun #no use of y/n

86 notes · View notes

softonstyles · 2 months ago

Text

Part One

Word Count: 2.1K

Aurora Rivera was not one to easily rile, save for two things she simply could not stand.

The first of the two was the relentless art of packing, a phrase she had penned for its ability to make her feel like a tortured artist.

And really, who could blame her?

You, too, would feel the same if your entire childhood, your most formative years, were spent moving from one place to another with no end in sight.

Besides, it wasn’t the physical aspect of packing that bothered her. If anything, it appealed to her innate desire for order. There was something methodical, almost meditative, about organizing her belongings; aligning materials and fabrics into their proper place, each neatly folded piece bringing a quiet sense of accomplishment.

No, what unsettled her most was what packing signified: the careful selection of what to bring with you, and the quiet finality of what to leave behind.

And in her twenty-six years, Aurora had never been good at leaving things behind.

(Because, if you asked her – who, or what, could be appointed the keeper of such things? When was it determined to let go, to walk away? It seemed to her that decisions like these demanded the utmost care, yet were often made in moments of haste.)

The second was unpacking, an inevitable consequence of the former.

And at this very moment, she was in the thick of it — arms deep in a cardboard graveyard of coats and jackets past.

With the ease of someone who had done this more times than she cared to admit, Aurora surfaced; two jackets in each hand, a small cloud of dust trailing behind her. It had been two years since she last opened this box, packed away during her post-college move — when she reluctantly traded Colorado’s crisp mountain air for New Mexico’s dry heat, where her family had settled in recent years.

Another difficult transition.

Swallowing a sigh, Aurora focused on carefully hanging the two jackets she planned to keep, draping the others over her bed. It might have been mid-August in Vermont (especially if the humidity coming in through her open window had anything to say about it), but fall would be here soon enough. The colder seasons in this state were rumored to be unforgiving, and while she liked to be prepared, four jackets felt excessive when two would comfortably suffice.

Her brown eyes wandered to the untouched donation pile in the corner. With her lease signed for the next three years, there was more than enough time for clutter to creep in and take over. She had to stay ahead of it now, before the semester began and her packed schedule left no room to manage it later.

After a prolonged internal debate, she hung the remaining jackets beside the others in her closet. She assured herself it had nothing to do with the reluctance to let things go — no, Aurora was simply being practical. After all, her roommate should have the chance to go through them first.

And if her roommate didn’t want them? Well, that would be. . . fine.

She would just donate them.

Probably.

The pile would be sorted out by the end of the process.

Eventually.

Speaking of said roommate, Aurora pulled out her phone to check for any updates. It was already 11:33 A.M., despite her roommate’s confident declaration last night that she would arrive ‘bright and early’ at 11:00 A.M. With no missed notifications in sight, she shook her head with a knowing smile.

Classic Char.

It appeared that some things never changed.

And sometimes, that was for the best.

Charlotte Styles’ quirks — vastly different from her own — were comforting in their familiarity. This would be the first time Aurora lived with someone she previously knew and trusted outside of her family, making the move feel less daunting.

Their friendship stretched back four years, to the day they first met in their sorority. Aurora, then a junior, had matched as a ‘big’ to Charlotte, a cheerful freshman she quickly took under her wing.

Despite their differences (and there were many), their bond had been seamless. Charlotte had a way of pulling Aurora out of her comfort zone and into a world of excitement, while Aurora instinctively kept Charlotte grounded when her enthusiasm threatened to run wild.

Over the years, Charlotte became the younger sister she never had but always wanted. Sure, her antics sometimes resembled those of Aurora’s seventeen-year-old brother — but that only made Charlotte all the more endearing.

Charlotte turned to Aurora for advice on everything — school, career, relationships.

And Aurora never turned her away.

Now, here they were — or would be, once Charlotte arrived – standing at the start of something new: Aurora embarking on a doctorate in physical therapy, and Charlotte launching into an MBA program.

It was a rare thing, she thought, to move forward while keeping an important part of your past close.

The thought was warm enough to dull the yawn creeping up her throat. Two days on the road from New Mexico to Vermont had left her, any last reserves of energy dissipating somewhere between endless highways and a restless first night in the apartment. She had planned to wait for Charlotte before venturing out for coffee, but the temptation of collapsing amid unpacked boxes was becoming harder to resist.

With a renewed determination, Aurora reached for a claw clip and twisted her curls into a messy bun. It was only a matter of time before the summer heat undid her efforts, but for now, it gave her a small sense of control. Pocketing her keys, she stepped out onto the sunlit street.

Last night, while navigating unfamiliar roads, Aurora noticed a coffee shop several blocks away from their place. Now, she retraced her steps through the picturesque streets with hopeful precision. She and Charlotte had been fortunate to secure their charming, if snug, apartment in the city’s historic district — a find they had finalized less than a month before.

Since then, Aurora had dedicated herself to curating a list of places (mainly craft and antique stores) she was eager to explore. Charlotte, a Vermont native, was already acquainted with most of the places on Aurora’s list. Yet, she embraced Aurora’s enthusiasm and indulged in each suggestion as if it were a new discovery. Charlotte had even reviewed the list with genuine interest, offering practical, budget-friendly alternatives to some of the more expensive options.

Despite her occasional lack of tact, Aurora held a deep admiration for Charlotte’s kindness and natural generosity. It was a quality that had defined their friendship from the start. On their sorority’s reveal day, while other “bigs” presented their “littles” with extravagant gifts, Charlotte had been delighted by Aurora’s modest but heartfelt offerings. She was filled with apprehension at first, but her worries dissolved when Charlotte’s smile radiated with sincerity.

Lost in thought, Aurora nearly walked past the coffee shop, only stopping when its pastel sign — Cozy’s — caught her eye against the rustic street. She stepped inside, relieved to escape the oppressive heat.

The line moved at a leisurely pace, giving her plenty of time to peruse the foreign menu unhurriedly. The menu behind the register was a visual delight, its chalk script meandering across the board in alluring strokes. She briefly wondered if the person responsible was part of the art program at her new school.

Aurora appreciated the tasteful details — and even more, the reasonable prices they spelled out. Caught between the comfort of a regular brew and the indulgence of an iced latte, her indecision was interrupted by the barista’s lively announcement.

“. . . And for just one dollar and seventy-five cents more, you can add one of today’s bakery specials to your order: a lemon blueberry tart, or olive oil bundt cake.”

She would not pass that up. And the choice was clear, too (an olive oil bundt cake, of course). Sweet, but subtle.

The patron ahead of her wavered, the delay only noticeable when the person behind Aurora exhaled an audible sigh of impatience. How rude. A pang of sympathy stirred within her. Few sensations were as unpleasant as feeling rushed.

On impulse, she leaned forward and offered gently, “I think the olive oil bundt cake is a good choice. It’s light and pairs well with most anything.”

The words slipped from Aurora’s lips before she had time to second-guess them, surprising even herself. She wasn’t the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but something about the moment, the quiet strain in the customer’s hesitation, compelled her.

No one deserved to feel pressured, least of all in a place meant to be comforting.

They were in a coffee shop called Cozy’s, for goodness sake.

Aurora’s reverie shattered when the stranger ahead turned, his gaze locking with hers in a moment of deliberate intensity. The mere sight of him — an unexpected embodiment of poise and understated charm — stilled her breath. She absorbed every detail of his presence, and it was clear that he was doing the same.

Tall and composed, he exuded a compelling sense of command from his broad shoulders. But something else was there, too. Subtle lines etched around piercing green eyes spoke of lived experiences, yet they retained a spark of youthful intrigue. Those warm, inquisitive eyes lingered on hers longer than expected, hinting at a connection that defied explanation.

“Whatever you say,” he murmured at last, his voice low and smooth – a cascade of syllables that wrapped around her like a slow-burning ember, catching fire.

This felt intimate.

She felt exposed.

Aurora could only blink as her composure began to fade away, away. . .

Conscious of her continued gaze, she felt unanchored in his presence. She searched for something clever to say in response — something to say at all — but all logic escaped, and with it, her capacity for coherent speech.

And then it clicked: his hesitation wasn’t due to pressure or indecision. No, he was clearly the kind of man who took his time — measured, thorough, talking you through it. . . and she really needed to stop thinking about that now.

Clearing his throat, he faced the barista again. “Two of the olive oil bundt cakes, please,” he ordered, then flashed Aurora a breathtaking smile. “One for me, and the other for the helpful young woman behind me.”

Between the sugar, her upcoming doctorate program, and now him — none of it could be good for her health.

A deep flush crept from Aurora’s neck to her face. It was unusual for her to react this way over a simple act of kindness, but something about him — the way he looked at her — dissolved her usual composure. She clung to it now, trying to steady herself.

“Oh,” Aurora said softly, “that’s generous, but you really don’t have to —”

He was already facing her again, extending a light blue bag with the treat nestled inside. The cool metal of his silver rings brushed against her warm palm as he handed it over.

Absolutely not good for her health.

“Please, I insist,” he said, his smile broadening. “It’s my way of thanking you for the expert pairing advice.”

Not good, downright bad for her health.

“Well, thank you,” she replied with a nervous laugh. “And you’re welcome, I guess.”

As he moved back to let Aurora approach the counter, she could still feel the weight of his gaze on her. It wasn’t intrusive, but rather a soft focus that seemed to draw her in. That was precisely the reason she couldn’t turn around, afraid of losing herself in it again.

“May I please have a medium iced latte?” she remained planted in place, resisting the urge to look back over her shoulder.

Would he still be there, waiting?

And even if he was, what would she possibly say or do?

The torrent of thoughts racing through Aurora’s head made her feel foolish. He was just a stranger — a kind one, yes — but a stranger nonetheless.

Yet, that didn’t lessen the sting of disappointment when she collected her order, turned around, and found. . . no one.

Cozy’s was quieter now; the line shorter, chatter subdued. Her eyes scanned the room once, twice, hoping to see him again. She shook her head, took a sip of her latte, and let out a bitter laugh at the absurdity of it all.

It appeared that Aurora Rivera was not one to easily rile, save now for three things.

(Part Two)

#best friends dad harry #bfd!harry #dad harry #dadrry #forbidden romance #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles romance #harry styles story #harry styles writing #older harry #older!harry #romance #slow burn romance #softonstyles

31 notes · View notes

hazshit-hotel-hater · 11 months ago

Text

Surprise! I am going to rant about my own redesign and art! I think this is me mentally preparing for the helluva boss episode next week and praying to god it’s actually good. I’ve also been nursing a bit of a hangover today so forgive me if my wording is a bit more jumbled than usual

Im a big fan of my Angel Dust redesign, but in the general aspect of my art, a lot of my poses are a bit flat. That can be from either posing issues on my end, trouble with facial features, or just some secret third thing, but I think so far Ive been enjoying drawing much more cartoonishly as of recent. That vox canon & headcanon drawing was super super fun to do even though it was supposed to be vivzies style, but I used to have a style with more sharp angles and pointy curves that I honestly kind of miss, I also miss playing with cartoonish proportions!!

My art style may end up changing eventually, but my main pieces will stay in my usual style and my more doodle-y ones will probably be in a more cartoony style like the ones above. While theyre definitely closer to canon and meant to be inspired as such, the difference is that I can draw diverse body types in said artstyle! I also cant lie, Angel’s chest fluff is one of my absolute favourite things to draw and it’s so easy in this style…

About my redesigns though! This is mostly about Angel, but I’m gonna slap this here from DMs with a friend: “Im so pleased with this genuinely im so happy he has his little pedipalps, theyre technically also still his fangs but now he can move them and stuff and :33 typically for male spiders the pedipalps are a reproductive organ but that isnt the case for angel or many other arachnid or insect sinners id say so I think personally most of them have developed pedipalps for primarily other reasons like fangs in Angels case or maybe something similar to cat whiskers for other people”

In my original angel dust redesigns I just couldn’t find a way to draw his fangs in a way that made me happy because I want to keeo the same energy in his face as the original. Big clunky fangs that stick out just didn’t work for him and while they made him look like a spider, he lost that sort of angel-ness that I need when drawing him so I instead looks to the pedipalp aspect of spiders to move them off of his mouth and more onto his cheeks. It’s a very small change but it improved the design in my eyes significantly and just really made me a lot happier. I wont be updating his redesign post as of right now and maybe never will, but if I do yknow why now!

I just really really like drawing this guy a bit rubbery, hes supposed to be fluffy so like he should move kinda soft in a way? I dunno how to explain it rn, its 2 AM at the time of writing this so im gonna lay the hell down now!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin angel #anti vivziepop #angel dust hazbin #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel dust redesign #hazbin redesign #hazbin hotel redesign #my art #will add alt text later

136 notes · View notes

draco-glacialis · 6 months ago

Text

Down a similar vein of my Agatha is a god a tech rant; what kind of things would the coven post and how popular are they?

Billy has the socials you’d expect of a typical teenager. He has instagram, tiktok and twitter. Doesn’t post much but does spend time on there. Probably follows Jen lol. At some point in the future I figure that he’ll join the young avengers or smth similar and becomes popular through that. People do question who the coven are and how he knows these people lol. He posts pictures of the coven (with their permission) and later the young avengers too. He does end up pretty popular on social media.

Jennifer has accounts for both business and personal on various platforms. She also has her YouTube (or MCU equivalent) channel. Despite the controversy she is quite popular and post Road said controversy is taken care of. She also has Alice, Lilia or Billy to join her occasionally for a video or instagram post. One time she had Agatha and Lilia on and it devolved into the history of makeup/fashion and people question how they know so much and why it sounded like they were there for it. Agatha and Jen also argued/bickered a lot. While yes it was one of Jen’s most popular videos she hasn’t invited Agatha back.

Alice is also on various platforms however she doesn’t post anything. Eventually though Jen and Billy pressure her into releasing some music and people love it. She also posts pictures of the coven either doing random shit or just general daily life stuff. Again people question how they know each other. Eventually someone makes the connection that she’s Lorna Wu’s daughter. This leads to even more confusion lol. She does appear the most in Jen’s videos or posts on instagram.

Lilia only gets social media at Billy’s insistence. Jen helps her with it a lot as they both have business ones. She stumbles across Agatha’s ones (not that she knows their Agatha’s) by pure accident and loves them. She starts the coven off theorising who it could be/how they’re managing to pull it off. (Agatha is internally cackling). She enjoys true crime stuff and mysteries as it’s in a way where it can’t be spoiled for her.

Agatha runs a tumblr blog and later a tiktok and instagram account called ‘places I shouldn’t be’. It’s always updated at 3:33 am or pm and has both the time (3:33) and date in the picture to show it was taken then and there. She also has shown photographs of the Titanic and Hindenburg (and other places in history) that only someone who was there would have. It gets incredibly popular and people guess where the picture was taken. She’s never taken a picture where you can see her in it and so people also try to guess who she is. (No one has gotten close lol). She also posts pictures of landscapes too. They are very beautiful but also incredibly hard to get too.

Rio has social media but doesn’t use it and only follows Agatha. (She’s the only one to know). She eventually helps Agatha get into places and occasionally make a post herself. After spending more time around the coven she does use it more. She enjoys watching the prank compilations and gets ideas off the internet. (And is often scolded by Lilia as a result). The internet ship her and Agatha.

#Agatha all along #agatha harkness #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #billy maximoff #alice wu gulliver #rio x agatha #vidarkness #dark nature #rio vidal

53 notes · View notes

rambosgirl · 8 months ago

Note

First blood rambo, as a husband, where he and the reader helping each other with mental health issues? much love ♥

UUUGGH I love this idea! Thanks for the request <33 I spent so much time on the backstory oopsie

Warnings: mentions of Rambo's PTSD, depiction of depression, loss of parents for reader

Masterlist

We may not be perfect but we're perfect together

Hope was a small town nestled among towering pine trees and rugged mountains. Everyone knew each other in town, and the arrival of strangers was always a topic of conversation for the people. You had always lived there, your parents raising you in the quiet, predictable suburbs in the close-knit community.

All that changed the day he came into town. John Rambo.

You first spotted him walking along the main street in town, his military jacket and sad eyes marking him as someone who had seen too much in his lifetime. The townspeople buzzed with whispers about him, the drifter, especially after Sheriff Teasle confronted and escorted him out of town.

The way the sheriff dealt with drifters wasn't new, but the way you felt about this one was. You sensed there was more to him than met the eye, and you felt genuinely bad for him when the sheriff took him away.

The tranquility of Hope shattered and chaos erupted when news spread about Rambo's arrest and then escape. The manhunt that came next turned the town into a war zone. You returned to your home earlier than expected, as per the sheriff's request. Everyone had. You kept the news on, anxious about the updates it would give. You wanted your home to go back to its peaceful ways, but you also rooted for Rambo, who seemed to be fighting a war within himself. You just hoped he would be okay and that your town would be okay.

The news showed that he eventually turned himself in with the help of his old colonel. You didn't hear much about what happened to him after that, but even months later, you found yourself thinking about him often.

Many months later, through the usual conversation and gossip in the town you learned that Rambo's colonel, named Troutman, convinced the judge to shorten Rambo's sentence. The news was met with mixed reactions in Hope. Some feared he would return, others were indifferent, and some were angry. Angry about the wreck he left behind when he was arrested, and just angry about the war in general. You however, found yourself hoping he would find a fresh start.

Almost a year after the incident, you spotted Rambo again. He had returned to Hope, or rather the outskirts of it. He chose to live in a remote cabin nestled deep within the woods near where he had once escaped and hid.

The townspeople gossiped about his return and Sheriff Teasle made it clear he wasn't happy about it, but he had learned his lesson last time and steered clear of the veteran.

You decided to do the opposite of the sheriff and reach out to him. You didn't really know the reason why you felt the need to know him, but you at least wanted to offer him kindness he probably needed. One afternoon, you gathered your courage and explored into the woods intending to find his cabin, carrying a basket of homemade bread and jam.

His cabin was difficult to find, and you ended up seeing him before you found his home. He was in a clearing, carving something on a piece of wood with his knife. He spotted you when you were a ways away, and you approached him carefully. As you got closer, his eyes scanned you for any sign of threat. But your genuine smile and the simple gesture of bringing food softened his stance.

He accepted the food, a slight nod of appreciation the only sign that he welcomed the gesture. You stood for a moment unsure of what to say.

"I don't usually venture into the woods," you admitted, glancing around at the dense trees that seemed to close in from all sides. "But I thought I thought maybe you could use some company or at least some food," you said, holding your basket up.

His eyes met yours for a brief moment, his expression unreadable, but he didn't seem annoyed by your presence. He didn't say much, just a quiet "Thank you," before returning to the piece of wood in his hands. It was clear he wasn't used to having visitors, and you weren't sure if you were intruding or accompanying.

Feeling awkward, you added "If you ever need anything, I'm usually in town." With that, you turn to leave, the path back feeling longer than the way there.

During your walk, you couldn't shake the feeling that something important had started, even if you didn't fully understand it yet.

Over the next few weeks, you made it a habit to stop by his cabin. Sometimes you brought fresh bread, other times small supplies you thought he might need, like candles or a new set of gloves for the winter. Each time he accepted your offerings with the same quiet acknowledgment and each time the silence between you grew more comfortable.

During this time, the silence started to fade away and turn into small talks with each other. You and John started having short conversations about simple things like the weather, the recipe used for your bread, and your hobbies.

One summer afternoon during your visit, you lingered a bit longer than normal, the conversations flowing in short simple exchanges. You told him about the town, how things had settled back into routine since he returned. He listened, his responses brief but thoughtful.

Then, one week you didn't come. You weren't feeling well, stuck in an endless cycle you knew well. You all but abandoned your personal hygiene, opting to stay in bed or aimlessly wandering your home. You wanted to visit John, but you didn't have the energy to leave your house.

John noticed your absence, but there was nothing he could do about it. He made a mental note to mention it the next time you came. He was surprised just how much he missed having you a part of his routine.

When you came back the next week, John's eyes reflected a flicker of concern as you approached your meeting spot. You were quieter, less cheerful than usual, your smile faint and more tired. He noticed the subtle changes - how your steps lacked their usual lightness and your hair messy as if you just got out of bed.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice as low and steady as always, but with an undertone of genuine concern.

You hesitated, not wanting to burden John with your depression and the thoughts that came with it. But then you remembered all he'd gone through, so you thought, maybe he was the one person who wouldn't judge you, but would understand your pain.

I've just hit a tough patch," you admitted, your eyes glued to the ground. "Sometimes it's like this. It's hard to get out of bed to do anything, really. That's why I didn't come last week."

John nodded, looking in the distance like he was deep in thought. For a long moment neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the sounds of the forest around you.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice almost a whisper.

"I get it," he said, his words simple but heavy with meaning. "Sometimes it gets difficult for me too."

You looked up at him, surprised by the admission. You knew that he had been through so much during the war and after, but it was the first time he opened up to you about anything personal and you realize how much trust he was placing in you by sharing even that small piece of himself.

From that day on, your visits felt different - more significant, more connected. You continued to confide in him about your struggle with depression, and told him about the dark days when getting out of felt impossible and the constant battle to find joy and meaning in life.

John opened up more about his past - his time in the war, the friends he had lost, and the nightmares that still plagued him.

Soon, the relationship between the two of you started to change for the better. You started to visit him more, and he even started coming into town to visit you. Before long, the two of you were inseparable.

Many of the townspeople began to accept his presence, now seeing him as less of a threat and more as one of them. Mitch, the young redhead deputy, reached out to John, and soon another friendship blossomed.

During this time, your and John's relationship started to become romantic. He would take you on casual dates at different cafes in town, the library, and John's personal favorite - hiking. It didn't take long for the both of you to know that you wanted to be together forever.

One evening, under the stars near his cabin, John asked you to marry him. He didn't have a ring or a rehearsed speech. Just a simple heartfelt question. You said yes without hesitation, knowing that despite your imperfections you were perfect for each other.

When it came time for your wedding day, everything was perfect. You were in a simple but beautiful dress, and John was in a freshly pressed suit. You both picked a beautiful clearing in the woods, and you invited a few close friends to witness. Mitch was the best man, a few of your close friends were bridesmaids, and John's closest friend, Trautman came all the way out to marry the two.

The ceremony took place at sunset, the golden light filtering through the trees as you exchanged rings and vows. John's voice was steady as he looked into your eyes.

"We may not be perfect," he said, "but together, we're stronger and better."

As the night went on, you did typical wedding things, like cutting the little cake made by your mom's old bakery, and tossing your bouquet to your group of friends.

Trautman offered his hand to you after the bouquet toss. You looked at him, confused.

"For a father-daughter dance," he said, taking your hand. "You're family now."

You teared up as you danced. You hoped that your parents would make it to your wedding, but they passed away a few years ago.

As the dance ended, you thanked Trautman, feeling a warmth in your heart you haven't felt in a long time. The loss of your parents had left a void, but today, surrounded by friends and the man you loved, you felt pure joy.

As the evening continued, your friends slowly began to go home, leaving you and John in the last light of the setting sun. The clearing was quiet now, the soft home of the forest filling the air.

"Would you dance with me?" You asked in a hushed tone. You knew John wasn't one for grand gestures, but he looked at you, his expression softening before he nodded and gently took your hand in his.

There was no music for you to dance to, just the sounds of the wildlife in the forest. You laid your head against his chest as the stars started peeking out in the sky. You listen to his heartbeat while his arms wrapped around you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed but the two of you dancing in the woods.

"I never thought I'd have this," he murmured his voice low and filled with emotion. "A home, a family...you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "You deserve it, John. We deserve it."

He smiled a rare, genuine smile and leaned down to press his lips against your forehead.

"Let's go home," he said softly.

He led you to the cabin you knew so well and started a fire in the fireplace. You sat by each other in the familiar comfortable silence you often shared.

As you sat together, you thought about the best day of your life that you just lived, about the vows you just made.

"We may not be perfect, but together we're stronger and better."

Those words echoed in your mind, I promise not just for today, but for every day that followed.

Married life was peaceful and happy with John, but the both of you still had your hard days. With each other, you were able to cope a little better and heal more with time.

The woods surrounding the cabin were quiet, the moon' glow filtering through the curtains and casting patterns of light onto the wood walls.

John suddenly woke up drenched in sweat and disoriented. He sat up carefully, trying to catch his breath while keeping you undisturbed. He looked over at your sleeping figure, your face relaxed and serene, framed by the moon's glow. The rise and fall of your chest was steady, a soothing rhythm that starkly contrasted with his erratic, fear-driven breathing.

He didn't want to wake you, he knew you had your own internal battles and needed to rest. He reached for a glass of water sitting on the nightstand, his movements deliberate and quiet, hoping that it might calm his nerves.

But the effort to keep still was in vain. You stirred sensing the disturbance in your sleep. Your eyes flooded open, and you noticed John sitting up and the haunted looking his eyes.

"John?" you whispered, "are you okay?"

"It's nothing," he reassured. "Just a bad dream."

You sat up, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. "You don't have to go through this alone," you said gently. "Let me help."

The weight of your words sat on his mind for a moment. He'd been fighting his trauma on his own and building walls for so long, he was still getting used to letting you in.

He leaned his head on your shoulder as you spoke again. "Was this a nightmare or a memory?"

"Memory."

An involuntary tear slipped down his cheek.

"It's over now, you're safe here," you whispered to him

John felt himself begin to relax, your words overcoming the fear his mind fed him. He pulled you into a hug and laid back down.

"What would I do without you?" John whispered.

"You'll never have to find out."

#let Rambo and mitch be friends #rambo #rambo x reader #john rambo x reader #john rambo #rambo first blood #rambo x female reader

48 notes · View notes