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cher-rei · 3 months

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Heyy,

Could u write a Jamal Musiala x reader fic

Where they are both on vacation and just go swimming on the beach but she doesn’t like swimming because she fears deep water,so he helps her

and he propose her later ,at dinner

I know it’s kinda kitschy

xoxo

bottled up– jamal musiala [ J.M ]

I will always love you [godsped– frank ocean]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: a much needed trip to the maldives ends in a wave of emotions and unforgettable memories.

genre(s): fluff and a whole lot of emotions, suggestive content but it's chill

[wc: 2.3k] masterlist

notes: screaming. crying. throwing up. me when????

your jaw dropped at the breathtaking sight of the resort in front of you. jamal had surprised you with a trip to the maldives, saying that it had been so long since you too have been alone together without any interruptions.

and you were so glad that the thought dawned on him because the way that the sun soaked island looked from your hotel room was gorgeous. the azure waters, flourishing greenery, and the vibrant hibiscus flowers set a perfect backdrop for your much needed holiday.

jamal had been looking forward to this trip for weeks, eager to spend quality time with you without any pressure. he shut the door to your suite behind him, a smile on his lips as you gawked at the view from the window.

"this view is making me emotional," you joked and took a few pictures of the sunset scenery.

jamal hugged you from behind, letting his chin rest on top of your head to admire the view and appreciate the feeling of you safe in his arms. "yeah?" he laughed at your eager nod in response to his answer and gently peppered the crook of your neck with kisses.

you felt the featherlight touch of his lips start to roam, causing you to giggle. you shivered at his touch, absentmindedly tilting your head to give him more access. this probably wasn't the best thing to do at a moment like this, especially when you still had unpacking to do.

jamal's kisses grew more insistent, his hands roaming over your body and you turned around to face him, needing more. your lips met instinctively, your fingers tangled in his hair which caused him to let out a satisfied moan.

taking this as a sign, he took a few steps back that had the two of you stumbling back toward the bed, your laughter mingling with the sound of the crashing waves outside. the energy between the two of you was playful, nothing short of a giggling mess. but you loved it.

"I know I said that I was tired when we landed." his kisses moved from your lips to your jaw, down your neck, and across your collarbone. "but I think I'll be good for another hour."

disregarding your laughing state, he gently pushed you back onto the mattress, the playful twinkle in his eyes never leaving as he looked down at your smiling figure.

you covered your face with your hands in attempt to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. "an hour?" the shock in your voice made him smirk, and he pulled your hands from your face.

"baby, if you want two then I'll be more than happy to--"

"--jamal!"

the following morning, you woke up feeling more relaxed than ever. the atmosphere was enough to lull you to sleep for at least a week, but there was still much exploring to do.

jamal made sure to have you up and ready for breakfast in record time so you could be out for some sightseeing. his excitement for this trip was jarring and it warmed your heart knowing that he finally got a chance to rest after the season he's had back home.

it was filled with ups and downs and you recalled the evenings where he would come home from practice and lay himself down on your chest. no words were exchanged in moments like those, instead you'd gently trial your hand on his back.

in minutes you'd have him fast asleep with his head resting in the crook of your neck, his light snores of exhaustion tugging at your heart as a reminder of how hard he worked. all this at the ripe age of 21, so you knew that your role wasn't just to be his girlfriend, it was to be his support and home.

which was what you were doing now in your hotel room after taking a tour of the resort and eating lunch. jamal's grip tightened on your waist as he cuddled further into your side, basking in your warmth.

"I'd kill to have vacations where we could just lay like this," he muttered through a smile, a warmth spreading through his chest at the low hum vibrating from your chest. and he was just about to fall back to sleep when a wave of realisation washed over him.

he lifted his head to look down at you, flashing his trademark smile. "are you ready to hit the beach?"

you smiled back at him, though with a hint of apprehension. "sure, but you know how I feel about the ocean right?"

the ocean, or rather the depth of it was one of your greatest fears. you were one to appreciate the way it looked, and the beauty of the waves crashing and how it looked on the horizon but when it came to swimming in it, your chest tightened.

jamal understood this better than anyone and ruffled your hair teasingly. "don't worry, I'll be holding your hand the entire time. and we'll just dip our toes in, okay?"

screw jamal and his power over you, because not even 10 minutes later, you were on your way with a bag full of snacks, sunscreen, and a ridiculously sized inflatable flamingo that he insisted on bringing. when you arrived, the beach was everything you'd hoped for— clear waters, soft sand, and surprisingly empty.

your boyfriend wasted no time and set your things beside your lounge chairs, making sure that you were comfortable. before he got too excited you wave him over and took out the sunscreen.

"j, take your shirt off. you can't get it wet," you said and applied some sunscreen to your arms and legs. you were wearing a cute cream linen two-piece— shorts and a button-up shirt with your swimsuit underneath,

janal sat on the lounge chair with you standing between his legs, with a pout on his lips, clearly not wanting to put the sunscreen on. "you just wanted a reason to touch me, I know how you think."

you rolled your eyes as you smoothed the sunscreen onto his shoulders, just the sight of his toned upper body had your heart pounding but you couldn't give in.

he must've been tipped off by your lack of reply though and took it as an invitation to tease you further. there was silence as you applied the last of your sunscreen but your breath hitched at the feeling of jamal fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

not having any of, you gently slapped his hand away. "we're done here, thanks."

to your surprise, he gladly took his leave and made sure to drag the flamingo to the water. after 10 minutes of relaxation and peaceful sunbathing, he called out to you, saying that it was time to get in.

you happily declined however, and said that your presence and the fact that you took of your shirt and shorts was enough as is. there was no need for you to get in the water instead, you stood on the water's edge and watched as he played around.

"but the flamingo is lonely without you," he whined with a pout, bringing the flamingo floaty closer.

you shook your head and kicked the water beneath your feet, which sent an unwanted chill up your spine. "no thanks. I'm fine over here."

jamal was a baby at times like this, where he would whine and beg because no matter what, he knew that you'd give in eventually. he came up to stand a few steps in front of you, the floaty still at his side.

"come on baby." he extended his hand out for you to grab. "for the flamingo?"

what was up with him and this famn flamingo?

with a deep sigh, and a roll of your eyes, you relented, watching as his eyes lit up. "fine, but if I drown, it's on you."

"deal," he said and took your hand in his, slowly taking a few steps further into the water. "I'll even throw in a free cpr lesson."

a scoff left your lips and the two of you continued to wade into the water which was now resting just above your knees. the comforting grip of jamal's hand on yours made the situation ten times better and you found yourself enjoying the feeling of the water on your skin.

"see. this isn't so bad," he said and lightly splashed you with some water and you splashed him back.

it took a bit but you were more or less fully covered by the water that was now resting at your chest. you floated around on the flamingo calmly while jamal stayed at your side in the water. it was more relaxing than you thought it would be, and you quite enjoyed the feeling.

as the afternoon went on, the two of you enjoyed the water, had fun with the flamingo and took a bunch of pictures with it, and laughed until your sides hurt. by the time the sun began to set, you were both comfortably bobbing in the water, watching the sky turn into a masterpiece of warm hues.

a few days later, you and jamal found yourselves back at the beach, this time with a picnic basket and a sense of excitement. the flamingo floaty was noticeably absent, but there was a twinkle in jamal's eyes that you couldn't quite place.

after a lazy afternoon of sunbathing and snaking, jamal suggested that you should take a walk along the shore. you were a but suspicious at first since it was starting to get late, but agreed seeing as that you wanted to spend more time with your boyfriend in this setting.

as you strolled, hand in hand, jamal kept glancing around, seemingly searching for something. you took notice of this and couldn't help but wonder. "jamal what are you looking for?" you lightly nudged his arm and he turned to look down at you with his lips pursed.

"I have a feeling that the flamingo is following us," he deadpanned, causing you to laugh. his blank expression didn't last long though, and his focus was fully on how beautiful you looked.

the way that the setting sun reflected your complexion was awing and he couldn't help but stare, his heart pounding in his chest. you were breathtaking and it took jamal a while to realise that you were talking to him.

you waved a hand in front of his face. "hello? are you okay?"

he cleared his throat and smiled. "yeah, you're distracting me that's all."

a scoff of disbelief fell from your lips at his comment but you continued to face forward, your interlocked hands swinging at your sides. the stroll continued for a bit but finally he gasped and directed your attention to something.

"it's looks like there's something in it." you squinted, spotting the bottle bobbing in the gentle waves.

jamal who couldn't contain his curiosity ran to the waters edge and picked up the bottle, inspecting it before attempting to remove the cork. he was struggling by the looks of it, and waved you over to help him.

you rolled your eyes but joined in, both of you tugging at the bottle until jamal finally popped it open, almost falling over in the process. he laughed sheepishly as he handed it over to you with a sigh.

"open it, I'm too tired I need to catch my breath," he said dramatically and took a few steps to dramatically fan himself off. you watched your boyfriend with a disapproving look as he walked off but gave in.

you uncorked the bottle and pulled out a piece of paper, laughing at how this was probably something like a few kids did a while ago. nonetheless, you unrolled it was a smile until your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

the paper read, "will you marry me?" but what confused you was that it was obviously in jamal's handwriting. "j, wha--" your sentence abruptly came to a halt when you turned around to look at your boyfriend who was dropped to one knee, holding up the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen.

a knot of emotions formed in your stomach and you were honestly about to throw up. words were lodged in your throat, your gaze softening as you looked at jamal who was nervously smiling. "I love you. I am, who I am because of you— you are every season, every hope and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens in the future, everyday that we're together is the greatest day of my life."

the tears were falling down your cheeks in record time, but you tried to wipe them back as jamal carried on speaking and all you could think of in that moment was how much you loved and appreciated every single thing about him.

a small chuckle left his lips as he watched you blink away your tears. "I have so many things to say right now but you're making me nervous-- seriously you look so gorgeous right now." the trail off was unintentional and after a beat of listening to you laugh, his heart swelled.

"just like the grains of sand that make up this beach, you make up every part of me. so before I start crying— will you marry me?"

your heart raced, a of laughter filling the air as you didn't waste a second to nod your head with an excited "yes, of course I'll marry you!"

jamal slipped the ring on your finger, picking you up and spinning you around as you both laughed. he set you down and kissed you deeply, the waves lapping at your feet as you sunk into the sand and the feeling of utter bliss.

it was when you pulled away that you heard a few more familiar screams echo through the air causing you to look behind you. at a nearby rock, sophia, aaliyah, kai and florian appeared. they were carrying— of course— the flamingo floaty, now decorated with flowers and a banner that read, "she said yes!"

you burst out laughing and looked at jamal who pulled you closer to his chest, kissing the top of your head. "I told you the flamingo was following us."

#cherrei writes #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala #jamal musiala fanfic #germany nt #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #euro 2024 #football imagine #bayern munich #musiala x reader

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httpswritings · 8 months

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ALE(xia): Average Lesbian Experience — Alexia Putellas x Reader

Warnings: lesbophobia, having trouble accepting oneself, angst.

Word count: 1326

Summary: A lie almost breaks your friendship.

A/N: Two things; Both Alexia and Reader are 21 years old, so this is set in 2015. Also, in Spain you use the word tía as a way of saying sis, same thing as tio and the word dude in English.

“C'mon Ale! Don't be a coward!“

She smiled at you, shaking her head. “I'm not going there, tía.”

You approached her, reaching for her hand, as you tried to convince her to get into the sea. It was a sunny and warm day in Barcelona. You were all wet from crashing against the waves, as Alexia had been looking at you, laughing when you were surprised by a wave that would push you, making you swallow some water.

Alexia shook her head again.

“Ale...Please?” Alexia dragged you by your left arm, pulling you into her as she began tickling you. Her hands touching the bare skin of your stomach send shivers throughout your body.

Your playful game was interrupted by two boys around your age.

“You both seem to be enjoying the beach. Wanna have some good company?”

The boys were particularly looking at you.

Alexia felt anger filling every part of her body. She was aware of how in love she was with you, and she also knew that she had to pretend not to be, as she didn't want to scare you.

She accepted herself but couldn't help but feel gross at the thought of her loving you.

She looked at the two boys, who were asking for your number, and compared herself to them. Was she better for you than them? «Without any doubt» she thought. You denied both of their requests.

With a timid smile forming on her face, she felt victorious, even if she apparently didn't have any reason to be.

What Alexia didn't know is that you've been in love with her since high school.

Always admiring her from afar, even when she was the closest to you.

You had to learn how to not react to the physical attention she showed you.

When you saw the two boys getting interested in her and began to ask her questions like her age, where she lived, and finally asking for her number, you wanted nothing but to punch them in the face.

It wasn't envy; you didn't mind Alexia getting attention from people. It was a deeper feeling.

Alexia looked at you, but your eyes were fixated on the two boys, who were smiling and checking Alexia out, looking throughout her body, making you want to throw up.

“I'm not interested either; I'm sorry.”

Those words brought you to life, and you finally looked at her.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Your world fell apart right after hearing those words come out of her mouth.

The boys finally got a no for an answer and left.

You didn't realize they did, though.

“Are you alright? It's okay; they had already left.”

You couldn't look at Alexia properly.

The girl who had your heart had given hers to another person.

Your mind was so loud, despite you being so quiet. Not a word left your mouth after hearing Alexia's statement.

“You're worrying me. Please, answer me!”

You couldn't hold it anymore and eventually broke down crying.

Alexia hugged you, and you enjoyed your time in her embrace, knowing it'd be the closest you'd be to her.

“Did they scare you that much?“

Still no words.

“If you don't answer me, I'm going to call someone.”

Someone.

You don't know why, but that word triggered you to the point where you snapped.

“Someone? Like your boyfriend?”

Alexia laughed, and that broke your heart into more pieces, if that was even possible. Alexia thought you were teasing her, as she didn't think you had believed her to have a boyfriend, when it was just an excuse to get out of that previous situation.

“Alexia, I have to go home. I'm late.” You stood up quickly, as you couldn't bear the embarrassment you felt about yourself anymore.

Alexia grabbed you by your right arm, but you harshly shook her arm off you.

You heard her whine, and it was enough for you to stop and approach her.

No pain was worse than the slightest hurt to Alexia.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you gone mad?”

Alexia was hurting, but because of your actions, not because of a silly shake. You had changed the way you behaved towards her when, not even ten minutes ago, you were laughing and begging her to get into the sea with you.

She couldn't understand the way you were behaving.

“Listen, if it's because of the boys, I'm sorry that they've asked me out too, but I swear I didn't—”

“God, Alexia, why can't you see it? It's not because of those boys; it's because of a boy. Your boyfriend. When were you going to tell me that you were with someone?” Alexia tried to speak, but you didn't let her, as you kept ranting.

“You want to know why I'm like this? Because I'm in love with you. I thought I was okay with only being your friend, but when you said you had a boyfriend, I wanted to die. Yeah, it's that dramatic because I've loved you since high school in a way friends aren't supposed to love each other. I'm sorry if this hurts you, but I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend to be okay now that I know someone else is in your life. Because, as dumb as it sounds, I had a tiny hope of you being in love with me.”

Alexia jumped into your arms, not letting you pull out of the hug. “Please, let's stay like this for a few seconds. Please. Please.” and you gave up on the idea of getting out of her embrace and enjoying her warmth.

Alexia looked at you. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't seem sad but relieved.

“I don't have a boyfriend. I don't even like boys, silly. I like girls, especially one who's looking at me quite confused right now.”

You were shocked. Too much information in such a short time. “If I told them I had a boyfriend, it's because I knew they were going to back off. Men respect other men. If I told them I was a lesbian, they'd probably insist on going on a date with me because many of them believe that lesbians haven't found the right man. It's quite sad, but it's what they believe.”

You've been there too, so you get what Alexia means. Even if Spain were one of the most LGBT-friendly countries on earth, no one would be 100% safe, far less as a lesbian.

“So, you like me?” You said this as you looked down at your hands, needing confirmation of Alexia's feelings towards you.

“Yes. I've liked you since we met in high school, but I never said anything. I was scared of losing you, so I had to learn how to put my feelings aside. You didn't notice how in love I was—I am with you. But it hasn't been an easy task, especially when people would come at you and ask you out, like those boys before, but you always rejected them, no matter if they were boys or girls, so I was scared of being rejected too.”

“Why do you think I rejected them?” you asked, laughing.

“I know. Now I know...” Alexia laughed too.

“Maybe you should try now.”

“Not here.”

Alexia brought you to your old high school.

It was closed as it was mid-July.

“I should've done this here five years ago, but now that we both know how we feel, I wanted to ask you if you would give me the privilege of being your girlfriend.”

You smiled, and before jumping into her arms, you accepted.

Memories of you and Alexia in high school came to your mind.

Gossiping in class, drawing on each other's hands, helping each other with studies.

The love you two shared was always there; it just needed a little time and another place to flourish, and now that you were adults, you weren't scared anymore.

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

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Pour Me

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You meet an intriguing woman while you’re bartending

Note: This is a quick little fic about milf Wanda because I love her lol. Enjoy it!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You never expected to meet the love of your life this way. You never thought that the woman of your dreams would walk through the door as you poured drinks behind the bar.

But there she was. She had a quiet reserve about her. The friends that were with her were the ones who spoke to you first.

“This one here,” a redheaded woman said, “just got a divorce. We’re pouring them out for her.”

“Yeah, so pour them strong!” a blonde woman added.

“Can do, ladies,” you said.

You poured their drinks, and they tipped you. It pays when pretty girls come to the bar almost as much as it does when men do. But you much prefer when women come in. The other women walked away and left you alone with the woman at the bar.

“I’m sorry about your divorce,” you told her.

“It’s okay,” she said. You thought you picked up on a slight accent. It’s intriguing. “I’m better off.”

“I’m sure you are, ma’am. I didn’t get your drink order. What would you like?”

“Oh, um- what do you suggest?” She asked.

“I’ve got just the thing,” you said.

She watched as you got to work behind the bar fixing her a drink. It was what you always made when someone didn’t know what they wanted. Nothing special, but she sipped it like it was heaven in a glass.

When you asked her if she wanted another one, she said no. Her friends had convinced her to go out, and she didn’t really like to drink all that much.

“Your friends might end up shutting this place down,” you said to her.

The beautiful woman looked around and back at you. She smiled shyly.

“I’ll tell them we need to go,” she said, grabbing her purse.

“Oh, no you can stay,” you said. “I just need to start cleaning the bar up and I didn’t want you to wonder why.”

“Well, what if I help you?” She asked.

“I couldn’t allow you to help, ma’am. It’s my job,” you said.

“Oh, please it’s nothing. I’ve got two boys at home, so cleaning is my forte.”

“Come on over then,” you said, a smile on your face.

You walked to the open slot in the bar where you let the woman inside. She smiled as she took a rag and wiped the counter with you. She helped you clean for almost an hour before you asked her to help you restock the bar.

“It’s nice back here,” she said, admiring the office you built.

“I designed it myself,” you told her.

“I’m impressed.”

You picked up some crates filled with bottles and the woman watched the way your arms flexed under the weight of them. Really, she had been watching you all night.

“So, how old are your boys?” You asked her, trying to make small talk as she watched you move crates from the office to the bar.

“Ten,” she said. “They’re twins.”

“That’s so cool!” You said.

She grinned and showed you a few pictures of the boys. They looked like her and you couldn’t help but feel like you knew her already.

After you finished with the crates, you leaned against your desk. The woman looked at you intently.

“I should probably get back out there and close the bar,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Oh right,” she said.

You stood up and walked past the woman, but she grabbed your hand. You looked back at her and she looked like she could cry.

“Are you okay?” You asked her.

“Could you- would you- forget it,” she said, pulling her hand away.

“Hey, what is it?” You asked. You have gotten some odd requests working at a bar, but nothing this woman could say to you would be the craziest.

“Would you kiss me?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should,” you said.

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry,” she tried to leave the room, but you grabbed her hand this time and pulled her back into your arms.

You looked into each other’s eyes before you leaned in and kissed the woman. The bar noise faded out and the only thing you could feel was her lips against yours. Her sweet, soft lips. You wondered how anyone could ever lose her, and when was the last time she was kissed like this. She was perfect.

The kiss ended when the woman’s friends knocked on the door to your office.

“I should drive them home,” the woman said.

“Ah, you’re right. It was nice to meet you,” you waited for her to fill in her name.

“Wanda,” the woman said. “I’m Wanda.”

“Y/n,” you supplied.

“Y/n,” she tried it out her tongue. Her friends called for her again. “Thank you for tonight. Really.”

“Sure,” you said. You opened the door for her, and her friends pulled her into their arms. “Hey Wanda, come back sometime?”

“I will,” she promised, a glint in her eye.

And she did come back. She came back every weekend for three months before you asked her out.

And she stands across from you now three years later ready to become your wife. You thank goodness she walked into the bar that night.

#wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff smut

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silantryoo · 2 months

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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — EPILOGUE 3, begin again

jo yuri and choi yena's wedding.

WARNINGS ; implied depression, mentions of overworking, slightly suggestive, mentions of broken homes (2.4k)

y/n wished that it was her up on that altar with wonyoung.

the hues of white and gold twinkled against the sunlight, the heat of the californian sun blinding everyone in the venue. yuri's dress, a hanbok beautifully accentuated with gold, ruffled in the wind, yena standing across from her soon-to-be wife with tears in her eyes.

y/n couldn't focus as they began to open their letters, the couple's vows written in great length (and the last time y/n asked yuri, she had almost two pages).

all she saw was jang wonyoung, standing across from her with a soft smile, watching the couple exchange their speeches.

the wonyoung she knew was still there, bits and pieces of the shy, caring girl she fell in love with years ago making herself known through each smile and laugh. her smile was still angelic, but gone was the burden of her last name. she walked lighter, the shackles of expectations now released from her .

she wasn't jang wonyoung, the daughter of a politician. she wasn't jang wonyoung, the promising volleyball player and the hope of suma, nor was she 'victory' jang, yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin's shadow.

she was wonyoung, just wonyoung.

and somehow, despite the years apart, wonyoung looked as beautiful as ever. she seemed much older, wiser, yet it was all the same. with her hair slightly shorter, y/n could tell she had gained some weight in her cheeks. her eyes, still doe-like, never seemed brighter, and from where she stood, y/n could see someone familiar.

she didn't know why, but y/n wanted to fall in love with this wonyoung, just like she she fell in love with her wonyoung.

y/n's eyes tore away from her ex, the entirety of the venue cheering as yena and yuri kissed.

she clapped half-heartedly, her mind and eyes wandering to the tall girl standing on the other side.

she was happy for the two, knowing how hard it must've been for them. y/n knew about their rough patch and the long-distance relationship they had during yena's overseas training. she admired them honestly, the way they pushed through it.

y/n wanted to be like them, so sure they'd be better for the other person.

she glanced at wonyoung, their eyes meeting.

it was pathetic, honestly. she was still hung up on her ex from college despite graduating so long ago. even through her multiple counselling and therapy sessions, she couldn't let go of it.

she did all the steps. she explored her options, dating around but nothing truly sticking. she took care of herself, both mentally and physically. she focused on her career, finally a well known actress.

but it always ended with wonyoung in her heart, no matter how much her mind wanted it to stop.

yuri and yena walked down the aisle, and beside her, jiwon and minju had already begun to cry.

(she was sure after their toasts later, jiwon would sob a river.)

it was bittersweet, knowing that when she was young, she had always dreamed that she and her wonyoung would be walking down in a similar fashion, somewhere in france.

wiping a stray tear on her cheek, y/n smiled. they followed suit with the now-wedded couple, cheers erupting as flowers littered the hot air.

y/n looked forward at the couple.

wonyoung didn't.

the after-party started right after aeri's toast.

they had moved to a much bigger, more ambient venue once the ceremony had ended. it was a couple minutes away from the vineyard, yet it was enough to fill the entirety of the one hundred guests and the couple's requests.

wonyoung knew coming in that there would be a huge bar with a plethora of fine wines and liquor. yena had asked her months ago about the most expensive services money could buy. beside it, a photo booth with yena and yuri's cardboard cutouts stood. tables littered the floor, the front designated for the two brides. in the center was the dance floor, a huge, rave-like stage sat in the middle.

she was surprised that the two didn't bother to buy a disco ball while they were at it.

"yeah," yujin hiccuped, raising a glass of champagne in her hand. she watched as yena messily made out with her now-wife in the middle of the dance floor. "that's my friend!"

wonyoung smiled. part of her wished rei could've come to humble yujin a tad, but things were already hard on her with the mention of jiwon. if she were to see the kim, fully dressed up, she was sure to have a mental breakdown.

gaeul sat yujin down, the taller girl leaning on her fiancée.

"is yujin-unnie drunk already?"

her eyes wandered for a moment, settling on the actress who constantly invaded her mind.

unlike wonyoung who was mostly known for her brand, l/n y/n was a name you heard everywhere. her face was on billboards, her smile on screens. everywhere she looked, everything she heard was y/n, or at least adjacent to her.

it hurt for a while, seeing the girl you loved everywhere but not hearing from her. wonyoung had waited months for a text back, for a call.

nothing came, and it was enough for wonyoung to know that y/n was done with her.

but the years of drowning herself in horrible music, expensive wine, and using work as a distraction paid off. VKY took off, and the bigger it got, the worse and worse her mind became.

the first few months of success felt like a failure.

"she was drunk during the ceremony, actually." gaeul clarified, ignoring the sulking girl beside her.

wonyoung was thankful for them, dragging her away from her desk and forcing her to face everything she worked so hard to push away. gaeul, rei and yujin urged her to go get help, and despite her parents raising hell to prevent wonyoung, she did.

she hated taking those stupid pills though.

"i was not!" yujin sulked, clinging onto gaeul like saran wrap. "i was tipsy."

wonyoung glanced once more at her ex, y/n smiling at some joke yuri had made.

she got over it, the ghosting. it took a year or two (or three), but she did. she cried, she drank, she tried to forget. wonyoung even journaled, her baby blue leather book filled with tears and pain.

still, she could never get over y/n.

it was by accident. wonyoung had found out when she was going through her contacts with yujin, the two talking about other notable people to model for her newest collection. yujin, always making sure never forgot, mentioned the actress. out of curiosity, she checked, only to realize that her number was wrong.

and then she panicked even further.

('wrong number.' she had double-checked with jiwon.)

"baby," yujin whined, her eyes watery. "i wanna dance."

the olympian tugged on her fiancée, huffing at gaeul's sluggish movements. yujin's emotions always got amplified tenfold when she drank, and years later, it was still the same.

"i'm gonna go with her." gaeul grinned, gathering her purse as yujin tugged harder. "she'll start telling people we're married if i don't."

"we are!"

"we are not." gaeul's voice blended into the background, finally giving into yujin's request. "our wedding is next year, yujinnie."

the music continued to blast around them, wonyoung watching as they walked into the surprisingly active crowd (but what did she expect from yena and yuri's friends?). their figures blurred into the horde, leaving wonyoung alone at the table.

she looked at her glass, dripping as the cold mingled with the hotter air.

it was lonely, being twenty-six years old and watching your friends get married. she achieved success, all the things her father was sure she would never reach. but not once was she date. she didn't want to date anyone, and when she did, it wasn't her.

it wasn't y/n.

wonyoung felt like she was back in that stupid bathtub, drinking some wine she grabbed from the dollar store, and playing some music that someone probably dedicated to their ex. her eighteen-year-old self would probably sit beside her, crying in her arms. she'd probably even throw up on the ta-

"hey."

l/n y/n.

familiar yet different, everything and nothing, hers but no ones.

"hi." wonyoung smiled, her grin soft but her heart hammering.

y/n's nerves crackled in the dim light, the sun setting behind her. for years, she had dreamt about this, pathetically so.

"can i sit here?"

the designer nodded. "go ahead."

the decorated chair scraped the floor lightly, y/n taking place on it. she was close enough to feel, the heat of her skin permeating onto wonyoung's, their knees nearly touching. wonyoung strained her ears, hyper-aware of every move, every breath, everything that was y/n.

she was over the hurt, but wonyoung would never be over y/n.

"congrats, by the way."

wonyoung glanced at the shorter girl's hands, watching as she rubbed her knuckles. "on what?"

"on your brand." y/n whispered, her words coming out slightly forced and awkward. "i remember you always liked stuff like that."

she always tried to hide it, but y/n remembered freshman year, and the little pastel blue notebook wonyoung would hide in her nightstand.

"i did." wonyoung fought the urge to look up, to steal a glance, afraid that this was just another dream. "i just never had the time to."

fear always ruled jang wonyoung.

the fear of imperfection, of loss and pain. it lingered in the halls of the jang household, long before wonyoung was born. it was a birthright that she had no say in, one acquired through her father's actions and her mother's words.

wonyoung wasn't scared anymore.

the taller girl's eyes met with y/n's, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. y/n was way more beautiful than she remembered, her cat-like eyes and her mole pairing with her smile.

"how's hyunseo?"

"she's good." wonyoung closed her eyes, letting out another breath as she relaxed. "we visited hannah's grave a couple weeks back."

y/n had never heard of hannah, her name a foreign word to the actress. she tried to wrack her mind for any memories, but every single one came out empty.

"hannah?" y/n sighed softly. "who's hannah?"

wonyoung stared at her, her eyes softening. it felt so freeing, finally being able to say her name. "hannah was someone who meant a lot to me."

even after years, a near decade, y/n could still read the bits and pieces of wonyoung. how she'd look away, contemplating on telling more. how the girl take a sip of water, trying her best to calm down.

wonyoung was still so similar to the girl she met, the girl she loved, and the girl she let go.

"why didn't you tell me that you were the deleted number?" her mouth moved before she could process her words.

"huh?" wonyoung froze, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the crowd getting larger and larger. "oh, um, i didn't think it mattered anymore."

if wonyoung was eighty percent sure she let go, then she was sure y/n definitely did.

and before, as soon as those words left wonyoung's mouth, y/n would already be in hysterics. her heart would be ripped in two, and she'd go silent, trying her best to figure out what she did wrong.

"it mattered to me." it felt like the world lifted off her shoulders. "you should've said something."

their eyes met once more.

"i panicked." wonyoung's voice was sheepish, a small dust of red coating her face. "it was stupid of me, i know. i just..."

y/n's fingers twitched, her mind itching to touch her wonyoung again, to figure out who was in there.

"an old habit, i'm guessing?"

she'd love any version of wonyoung, whether it was hers or not.

"a very old habit."

the air danced around them as the night continued, the smell of booze multiplying with each minute. neither moved from their spot, worried that this was the last time - the last chance - they'd get to see each other. so the two sat, stealing glances and people-watching, content with whatever was going to happen next, whether it be good or bad.

a soft whisper traveled into wonyoung's ears, and if she hadn't spent the past eight years yearning for the sound, she might have missed it.

"i'm better now, wonnie."

wonyoung loved that nickname more than life itself. "sorry?"

"my promise." a smile flickered onto the actress's face, and wonyoung found herself afraid of losing her again. "i'm better now."

old habits die hard, but time marched forward. wonyoung knew that they changed, for better or for worse. she knew that no matter what, in sickness and in health, she'd love y/n. they weren't the same two naive girls who were hurting, and even though glimpses of them flashed through, wonyoung was willing.

y/n held her hand, and everything fell into place.

"thank you..." wonyoung could barely hold her tears back. "for keeping your promise."

"anything for you, wonnie."

y/n squeezed her hand, and the room fell silent. wonyoung felt like she was floating. she wasn't sure where she was gonna land, if it was gonna hurt her or anyone else. all she knew was that somewhere, y/n was waiting for her, just like wonyoung had been too.

to love someone was to do the right thing.

"are you seeing anyone?"

"no." a grin splayed across y/n's face, one that was only ever reserved for wonyoung. "i'm not."

jang wonyoung would wait forever. she would wait for the perfect time, sitting idly in the corner of the room. she'd count the seconds as they go by, watching as each hand moved at a snail's pace, but a pace nonetheless.

"good."

l/n y/n couldn't wait. she couldn't sit by and let nature take its course. she could prevent earthquakes and hurricanes if it meant protecting wonyoung. she'd move planets, shapeshift, become someone new... someone better.

"good?"

wonyoung stood up, her hand trembling. she reached out to her y/n, offering a hand. she couldn't keep waiting forever, and she knew y/n couldn't be the only one changing for rest of eternity.

(wonyoung was too grown to keep being an idiot, anyway.)

"dance with me, y/nnie?"

love.

it was still there.

"gladly."

THE END.

masterlist

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@moontealemonpie @rikisgeef @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @blue4hour @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @awkwardtoafault @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @perfectsunlight @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @wlwgirlsworld @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @jihyostolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @bearseulgs @marimo-anura @wonyoluvr @serenitygrace24 @ddeonutz @noiacha @livelaughchoerry @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora

#jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #aespa x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

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letsgetrowdy43 · 4 months

Text

The Greatest (Rowan��s Version)—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

Warnings: Quinn is a dick in this, a little blurb on being physically intimate but no details, a lot of angst and crying… lmk if there is anything I missed!!

Inspired by “The Greatest” by Billie Eilish

Au Masterlist!!

"I'm trying my best to keep you satisfied Let you get your rest, while I stayed up all night"

Honey tiptoed down the dimly lit hallway, her slippers brushing against hardwood as she neared her daughter's door, warm milk in hand as she rounded the corner. The soft glow from Hayden’s nightlight seeped out from under her bedroom door, casting a gentle light that barely reached the hall. She paused, her hand hovering over the door handle, listening to the faint, rhythmic breathing from inside. Finally, it seemed Hayden was asleep.

It had been a long and tiresome evening. Hayden had been restless, unable to settle down no matter what Honey tried. There were lullabies, stories, and even a glass of warm milk that now remained untouched in Honey's hands as she let out a content sigh. Nothing seemed to work and Honey could feel her patience fraying with each passing hour, but she kept her voice soothing and her movements gentle, knowing her daughter needed her calm presence more than anything else.

The woman took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, peeking around the corner to ensure Hayden was indeed asleep. Her daughter lay curled up under the covers, clutching her favourite stuffed orca, its worn material peeked out from the blanket. Honey's heart ached with a mixture of love and exhaustion at the sight, quietly rejoicing at the fact she could finally crawl back into her own bed after nearly an hour of restless crying.

She tiptoed inside, gently adjusting the blanket around Hayden’s small frame, then placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered as her fingers flattened out her messy curls before slipping out of the room.

She made her way to the master bedroom, her body feeling heavy with fatigue. The door creaked as she pushed it open, revealing the familiar silhouette of Quinn already in bed. His back was turned to her, his breathing deep and steady, indicating he was fast asleep.

Honey sighed, her shoulders slumping as she quietly closed the door behind her. She changed into one of Quinn’s old shirts and a pair of shorts, her movements slow and deliberate, the weight of the day pressing down on her as she examined her tired eyes in the mirror.

Climbing into bed, she reached out to touch Quinn, seeking comfort in his warmth, “Quinn?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her fingers raked through his bed head. He mumbled something incoherent, rolling over to the other side, his body curling away from her touch. Honey's hand fell limply onto the mattress. The rejection, however unintentional, stung more than she expected. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.

She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The room was enveloped in darkness, the only sound the gentle hum of the fan above their bed. The tears she'd been holding in began to spill over, sliding silently down her cheeks. She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling the cries that threatened to escape.

Honey's mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic swirl. She felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, despite Quinn's presence just inches away. The day’s events replayed in her mind: Hayden’s sleeplessness, the unending chores, hockey filling every aspect of her life, and the constant demands of motherhood. And now this—the coldness of the night, the silence between her and Quinn.

She turned her head to look at him, his form just a dark outline against the cream-coloured sheets, his face turned away from her so she couldn't admire the man she loved the most. She remembered the early days of their marriage, when they couldn't wait to be close to each other, when even a goodnight kiss felt like a cherished ritual. Now, it seemed like a distant memory, replaced by exhaustion.

★★★★

"And you don't wanna know how alone I've been Let you come and go, whatever I state I'm in"

Honey sat in the stands, the metal was cold and unforgiving beneath her legging-covered legs, stinging her skin as she listened to the sounds of sticks on ice and skates cutting the ice. She adjusted her position, tucking a blanket around her legs for warmth, and glanced at her watch for what felt like the hundredth time.

Where was Quinn?

Warren’s hockey game was well underway, it was the biggest game of the year, the tryouts for the BC Junior Canucks team for the Brick Tournament Invitational. The players glided across the ice with practiced precision, the sound of hockey echoing through the arena as they all worked to get a spot of the team for one of the biggest tournaments for the children of Vancouver.

She could see Hayden a few rows down, playing among the other kids, their faces lit with excitement as they rang the tiny cowbells in their hands and cheered on their siblings, friends, and family members on the ice. Honey smiled despite herself, the sight of her daughter’s joy lighting her mood as Hayd looked over to her and grinned as she sent her mom an excited wave. She turned her attention back to the ice, cheering loudly as Warren made a skillful pass to a teammate.

The other moms were gathered in clusters around her, chatting and laughing, their voices a backdrop to the action on the ice. Honey tried to engage, nodding and smiling at the appropriate moments, but she had trouble meshing with the other women within the room, and besides her mind was elsewhere.

Quinn had promised to be here. He’d assured her he’d make it this time, that he wouldn’t let Warren down again, or make her create excuses for his absences.

As if on cue, she heard a familiar buzz ripple through the stands. Turning, she saw Quinn making his way down the aisle, offering sheepish smiles and waves to the guardians who greeted him warmly.

He was almost an hour late, but his arrival was met with an outpouring of praise.

Typical

“There he is!” one of the Dads exclaimed, clapping Quinn on the back as he made his way to his wife. “He's so supportive my god” a mother mumbled to another, "and so handsome."

Honey’s heart clenched, she watched as Quinn accepted the adoration, his face flushed from the cold or perhaps embarrassment. He caught her eye and gave her a small, apologetic smile before making his way over to her. She forced herself to smile back, though it felt like a big lie.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, Tocch was relentless today,” he said, sliding onto the bench next to her, his arm wrapping around her as he pulled her into his side, ruining the perfectly tucked blanket under her legs to be pressed up against him. “It’s okay,” Honey replied, her voice softer than she intended. “Warren’s been playing really well.” Quinn nodded, his attention shifting to the game. Honey could feel the eyes of the other moms on them, their whispered comments just loud enough to be heard.

“He’s such a good dad,” one woman said. “He must be so busy with work, but he always makes time for his family,” another chimed in.

Honey bit her lip, feeling the sting of their words. She wanted to confront them, let them in on the fact that it wasn’t the whole truth, that she was the one who shouldered most of the burdens at home, the one who stayed up late with Hayden, the one who made sure Warren got to his practices on time. But she stayed silent, the weight of her unspoken frustrations pressing down on her as she leaned into her husband's side, cheek pressed up against her shoulder as they watched their son as his hand held hers in his lap.

The game continued, and Quinn joined in the cheers and shouts, his enthusiasm contagious. Honey watched him, a mixture of love and resentment swirling in her chest. He had this effortless way of charming everyone, of making his rare appearances seem like grand gestures of devotion.

Meanwhile, her constant presence and her relentless efforts went unnoticed by all.

As the final buzzer sounded, Warren’s team erupted in cheers. They had won, and the stands were a flurry of excitement as the boys piled on top of each other, slipping all over the ice as they screamed with excitement. Warren skated over to the boards, his face flushed with pride as he slammed into the glass ingront of his family, Honey couldn’t help but smile at him.

Warren beamed at the sight of his dad, his eyes bright as he looked up at his parents, “did you see my goal?” he looked at his father with excited eyes as Quinn nodded. “You did awesome bud!” Quinn replied, completely ignoring Warren's question as he motioned for his son to go and join the rest of the team in the locker room Honey stood, gathering her things. “Come on, Hayden, let’s go get your brother,” she called, her voice steady as Hayd separated from her friends and ran over to her parents, jumping into Quinn's arms as they headed in the direction of the locker room.

They made their way down to the locker room, joining the crowd of parents and children waiting for the swarm of sweaty lost game kids. Honey hugged Warren tightly, her heart swelling with pride. She glanced at Quinn, who was chatting animatedly with the other dads and felt a pang of loneliness.

As they walked to the car, Warren and Hayden chattering excitedly about the game, Honey felt Quinn’s arm slip around her shoulders. She looked up at him, his face softened with a rare tenderness that she hadn't seen in a while. “I’m really sorry I was late,” he said quietly. “I’ll do better, I promise.” Honey nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I know you will,” she whispered.

Honey allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things would get better.

★★★★

"Man, am I the greatest? My congratulations. All my love and patience, all my admiration. All the times I waited for you to want me naked. Made it all look painless (painless), man, am I the greatest?"

Bedtime was Honey’s favourite time of the day.

She helped Hayden into her pyjamas and listened to the recounting of her playdate with her best friend Paige. After a few bedtime stories and a goodnight kiss, Hayden finally drifted off to sleep, the woman tucked the blankets around her daughter, smoothing the hair from her forehead before turning on her pink butterfly nightlight and off the big light.

In Warren’s room, Quinn was already saying goodnight. Honey joined them, pressing a kiss to Warren's temple and sat quietly as Quinn finished up his bedtime story. She lingered in the doorway, watching as Quinn gave their son a goodnight kiss and ruffled his hair.

“Love you,” Quinn said, his voice warm. “Night, Mom. Night, Dad,” Warren said, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Goodnight baby,” Honey replied softly.

They walked down the hallway together, and the house finally quieted. Honey’s heart beat faster as they approached the door to their bedroom. She longed for Quinn’s touch, for the intimacy that had become so rare. She needed to feel loved, to bridge the distance that seemed to grow wider each day.

As they entered their bedroom, Quinn went straight to their bathroom, starting his usual nighttime routine. Honey changed into a soft nightgown, choosing one she knew he liked, she looked at herself for a second, nitpicking her appearance and trying to shake the ugly feeling that had been brewing in her chest. She sat on the edge of the bed, nervously waiting for him to return.

When Quinn finally came out, face washed and changed he looked tired. He crossed the room and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up and lying back with a sigh. Honey took a deep breath and moved closer to him, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Quinn,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, embarrassed at the words about to leave her mouth, “can we... It’s been a while, and I miss you.” He turned his head to look at her, his eyes dull with exhaustion. “Honey, I’m really tired. It’s been a long day,” he mumbled, shifting slightly to put more distance between them as he pulled the comforter up to his chest.

“But,” she said, her voice cracking, “I just- I thought maybe- I miss being close to you.” Quinn sighed heavily, his frustration evident. “I know, Honey, but not tonight, okay? I just don’t have the energy.”

Honey’s heart sank.

She withdrew her hand, feeling the sting of rejection deep in her chest. She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes filling with tears. She felt Quinn shift beside her, but he didn’t reach out, didn’t try to comfort her.

The silence between them was deafening.

She bit her lip, the darkness of the room seemed to press in on her, amplifying her loneliness, the coldness that occupied the space between them. She felt a profound sense of isolation, even with Quinn lying just inches away. She turned her head to look at Quinn, hoping for some sign that he still cared, that he still wanted her, not even intimately, just in general. But he lay still, his back turned, lost in his own world of exhaustion and detachment.

Honey closed her eyes, the ache in her chest growing unbearable. The rejection was too fresh, the pain too much as she silent tears soaking into the pillow. Reminiscing of a time when Quinn would look at her the way he once did, with love and desire in his eyes.

★★★★

"Doing what's right without a reward And we don't have to fight, when it's not worth fighting for (fighting for)"

The sun had set and tensions remained high between Quinn and Honey, the couple was now en route to the yearly Canucks for Kids charity ball.

The silence in the car was thick and uncomfortable, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Honey stared out the window, watching the street lights beginning to turn on as they sped down the highway, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her dress. Quinn’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the fraying ends of a very happy relationship.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Honey thought, her mind drifting to the previous night’s rejection and the growing abyss between them. She had hoped that tonight’s event might provide a chance to rekindle the growing disconnect, to be with the people closest to him and enjoy each other, but now, it felt like just another obligation, another performance.

“Can we talk about last night?” Honey finally asked, breaking the silence. Quinn sighed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Honey, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. We have to be at this event in fifteen minutes, can’t we just focus on that?” “No, Quinn. We can’t keep ignoring this,” Honey insisted, her voice rising slightly. “We’re falling apart, and you don’t seem to care. I’m trying to reach out to you, but you keep pushing me away.”

“I do care, Honey, but I’m exhausted,” Quinn replied, frustration creeping into his tone, “I have a lot on my plate right now, with the team and home, and I can’t deal with everything at once.” “And I’m not exhausted? I’m not dealing with a lot?” Honey shot back, her anger roaring at his constant invalidation of her issues, “It’s not just about you, Quinn. We’re both in this, and we both need to make an effort.”

Quinn glanced at her, his expression a mix of weariness and annoyance, his grip on the wheel slightly tightening as he turned back to look at the road. “I know you’re tired too, but right now we need to get through this evening. Can we please just put on a smile and get through it, we can argue more later tonight if that's what you wanna do.” Honey swallowed hard, feeling the sting of his words, “Fine,” she said quietly, turning back to the window.

“Let’s just get through it.”

They pulled up to the venue, the grand entrance lit with lights and green and blue balloons creating a walkway for attendees. The valet took the car, and Quinn and Honey stepped out, their faces immediately transforming into practiced smiles. Honey looped her arm through Quinn’s, her grip tighter than necessary as he looked at her pointedly.

As they walked into the lavishly decorated ballroom, they were greeted with warm smiles and enthusiastic welcomes. Quinn’s colleagues and their spouses mingled, laughter and chatter filling the air. Honey plastered a bright smile on her face, the mask of contentment slipping into place.

“Honey, Captain Hughes! So glad you could make it!” one of the Canucks investors called out jokingly throwing the nickname to grab their attention, shaking Quinn’s hand and giving Honey a polite kiss on the cheek, “You both look wonderful.” “Thank you,” Honey replied, her voice sweet and soft, “they outdid themselves again this year” “Don't be modest Hun," Quinn said sincerely, "She's on the board, she helped with the planning." “Well then thank you for your hard work against this year!”

They made their way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk. Honey’s smile never wavered, even as her heart ached with the unresolved tension between her and Quinn. She watched him interact effortlessly, his charm and charisma on full display.

To everyone else, they were the perfect couple, a united front.

As the evening progressed, Honey found herself at the edge of the dance floor, watching couples sway to the music. She glanced over at Quinn, who was deep in conversation with a group of donors. He caught her eye and gave her a small, awkward smile, she could see his anticipation to get away from the networking and back at her side.

It was like a short moment of the old Quinn, awkward, in love with her, she missed it.

Taking a deep breath, Honey walked over to him, her steps deliberate and aching to save him and have her close once again. “Sorry guys, you wouldn't mind if I stole my husband for a dance would you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. He hesitated for a moment before nodding and excusing him. “Happy wife, Happy life,” he joked, excusing himself from the conversation and taking her hand.

They moved onto the dance floor, the music enveloping them. Quinn placed a hand on Honey’s waist, and she rested hers on his shoulder. They swayed to the rhythm, their movements stiff and mechanical at first. Gradually, the music loosened the tension.

“I’m sorry,” Honey whispered, her voice barely audible over the melody, “I don’t want to fight. I just want us to be okay.” “I know,” Quinn replied, his tone softer now as her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she melted into him slightly, “I’m sorry too. We’ll figure this out, Honey. We have to.”

★★★★

"And you don't wanna know what I would've done Anything at all, worse than anyone"

The warming morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the room. Honey poured herself a cup of coffee, savouring the brief moment of calm before the day’s chaos began.

Quinn’s mother, Ellen, had come for a short visit, and Honey was grateful for the company during this long stretch of away games.

Ellen entered the kitchen, her blonde hair neatly pulled back into a clip, a gentle smile on her face as she looked to her daughter in law through the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Morning, Honey. How did you sleep?” “Morning, it wasn't too bad,” Honey replied, though the truth was she had barely slept, she gestured to the coffee pot, “Can I get you a cup?” “Please,” Ellen said, taking a seat at the kitchen table across from where Honey's book lay open face down on the table.

Honey poured a second cup and handed it to her mother-in-law before sitting down across from her. They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds that occupied the air were the birds chirping outside and the distant buzz of people getting in their cars and heading to work.

“How are things, Hun?” Ellen asked, her eyes soft with concern, “you look tired.” Honey sighed, setting her cup down. “It’s been... well it's been challenging lately,” she admitted, “Quinn and I are struggling a bit and the kid's lives are starting to get busier. We’re both so occupied and exhausted, and it's been a lot.”

Ellen reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over Honey’s, “Marriage isn’t always easy, especially when life gets demanding.” “I just don’t know what to do anymore,” Honey said, her voice trembling, “I try to reach out to him, but he’s always so tired or preoccupied. And when I bring it up, we end up arguing,” the tears started as she quickly wiped them away and stared at her coffee cup.

“I just feel so lonely,” she admitted, a little weight lifting off of her chest as her free hand drummed on the table.

Ellen nodded, her expression thoughtful, “I can see how much you’re hurting. Clearly, you love Quinn and want to make things work.” “I do,” Honey said, tears welling up in her eyes, “I just don’t know how to get through to him.”

It felt weird admitting all of this to her husband's mother, but Ellen always listened, always advised, and she knew how to make things better.

Ellen squeezed her hand gently, “Quinn’s always been the type to shoulder burdens silently, thinking he’s protecting those he loves, you need to confront that Hun, he needs to know he's hurting you.”

If there was one thing Ellen felt deeply about it was accountability, and that belief did not fall blindly in her sons.

Honey wiped a tear from her cheek. “So, what do I do?” “Sometimes, it helps to approach these conversations when the tension is lower.” Honey nodded, “It’s hard to find a good moment with him lately,” she dryly laughed, such a bizarre thought to infer that Quinn was difficult when he had always been nothing less than perfect for the entirety of their marriage up until this point.

Ellen smiled kindly, “he’ll listen Hun, you just have to be honest with him and not hold back that you're hurting.

The older woman leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant for a moment. “You know, Honey, when Jim and I were your age, we went through something similar. There were times we barely spoke, he had coaching, and I had the boys and worked on top of it. It took a lot of patience, and we both had to learn to communicate better.” Honey looked at Ellen with a newfound level of respect, something so eye-opening about the vulnerability that occupied the space between them.

“How did you get through it?” “By remembering why we fell in love in the first place,” Ellen said softly, “We made an effort to fix it, we moved around so I wouldn't be the primary caregiver while he was off coaching, we started to make quality time a priority, and we sought help when we needed it. There’s no shame in asking for guidance, whether from a counsellor or someone else.”

Honey nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, Ellen. I really needed to hear that.” Ellen smiled warmly. “You and Quinn have a strong relationship. Sometimes, it just takes a bit of work to clear away the aggravation and find the connection again.”

★★★★

Honey sat at the kitchen table, the house eerily quiet with Quinn away on a road trip. The kids were asleep, and the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock and the microwave that was reheating the dinner that she hadn't had the chance to eat until everything settled for the night.

She stared at her phone, the screen glowing softly in the dim light. She had been debating whether to call Quinn, wanting to bridge the gap between them, but fearing another argument. Taking a deep breath, she dialled his number.

It rang a few times before he answered, his voice crackling through the line. “Hey, Hun,” Quinn said, sounding tired but happy to hear from her. “How are things at home?”

“Hi, love,” Honey replied, her voice heavy with fatigue as she finally took a deep breath at the sound of his voice, “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed this trip.”

She could hear the concern in his voice, “I know, Honey. I’ve been thinking about you and the kids a lot. How’s Hayden? And Warren?” “They’re good,” Honey said, managing a small smile despite her exhaustion, “Hayden had trouble sleeping again last night, and Warren’s been busy with his big science project. It’s just... a lot to handle on my own.” Quinn sighed, “I wish I could be there to help more. I know it’s hard.”

“It’s not just about the help anymore Quinn. I miss you. I miss us.”

There was a pause on the other end, and Honey could almost hear him thinking, “Have you ever thought of quitting your job to have more time for them?” Honey’s grip tightened on the phone, her breath catching in her throat at such a stupid question on his end, “What did you just say?”

“I mean,” Quinn continued, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing on the other end, “if you weren’t so stressed with work, maybe things would be easier at home. You could focus on the kids more, and we wouldn’t be so—” “Are you being serious?” Honey interrupted, her voice rising with anger. "I just—"

“You think quitting my job is the solution? You think I should just give up my career, something I’ve worked so hard for, just to make things easier for you?” “That’s not what I meant, Honey,” Quinn said, his tone defensive, “I just thought it might help—” “Help who? You?” Honey’s voice shook with rage and hurt.

“You’re away playing hockey, doing what you love, and you think I should just abandon my dreams and ambitions to pick up the slack? I’ve supported you every step of the way, and now you want me to sacrifice my career for you?”

“Honey, please,” Quinn pleaded. “I didn’t mean it like that.” But it was too late. The words had already cut deep, and Honey felt a surge of betrayal

“You have no idea what it’s like to balance everything, to be there for the kids, to manage the house, and still try to hold onto a piece of myself, don't even get me started on the way you have torn apart our marriage with your 'tired because of the team' bullshit. You don’t get to tell me to give up my job.” “Honey, let’s not fight—” Quinn started, but Honey couldn’t listen anymore. “Goodbye, Quinn,” she said, her voice icy. She hung up the phone, her hands trembling with anger and frustration.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the phone, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her. Tears blurred her vision as she thought about all the sacrifices she had already made, the nights spent alone, and the unending juggling act of her responsibilities.

The silence of the house felt oppressive, and for the first time, she wondered how they would get through this. The gap between them seemed wider than ever, and she wasn’t sure how to bridge it.

★★★★

"The greatest"

Honey stared at her phone as it buzzed on the kitchen counter, Quinn’s name lighting up the screen. She let it ring, her heart heavy with the weight of their last conversation. She couldn’t bring herself to answer, not yet. The anger and hurt were still too fresh, the sting of his words too sharp.

Days passed, and Honey continued to ignore Quinn’s calls, burying herself in her work and the kids’ activities, sending short texts with breakdowns of the kid's days, and a few pictures, but not an ounce of love or forgiveness settling in the words. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever, but she needed time to process, to find a way to articulate her feelings without exploding.

One evening, as she was putting Hayden to bed, she heard the front door open. Quinn was home.

“Mommy, is Daddy back?” Hayden asked, her eyes wide with excitement. Honey forced a smile. “Yes, baby, Daddy’s home," she tucked Hayden in, and kissed her goodnight, "he'll see you in the morning when you wake up okay?” she promised and headed downstairs, her stomach in knots.

Quinn stood in the living room, looking exhausted and worried, his eyes met hers, and she could see the desperation in them. “Honey,” he began, stepping towards her. “please, we need to talk,” his voice trembling, slightly pathetic from the days of worrying about the fate of their marriage and family.

She folded her arms, keeping her distance, “What is there to talk about, Quinn? You made it pretty clear how you feel.” Quinn ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched on his face, “that’s not fair. I didn’t mean it the way it came out."

"I just want to find a way to make things easier for both of us.” Honey shook her head, her anger simmering just about to reach boiling point, “you think the solution is for me to give up my job, my dreams? Do you have any idea how insulting that is? I'm a great wife and a great mother, and you treat me so less than."

"I loved you, and I still do"

“I know, I know,” Quinn said, his voice pleading, “I was wrong. I didn’t think it through. But please, we can’t keep doing this. We need to figure it out together.”

She looked at him, the pain of their disconnect weighing heavily on her, “do you even think I’m attractive anymore, Quinn?” His eyes widened in shock. “What? Of course I do, why would you even ask that?” Honey’s voice wavered, her vulnerability laid bare, “Because you never touch me, you never look at me the way you used to. I feel invisible to you, I feel ugly.” Quinn took a step closer, his expression softening as he reached out to her but she moved away from his grasp, “Honey, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I’ve been so caught up in everything else, I’ve forgotten to show you that. But I do, I really do find you attractive. I love you.”

Tears welled up in Honey’s eyes, the words she had longed to hear both comforting and painful, “then why do I feel so alone? Quinn, we could be in the same room, the same bed even, and yet it feels like you're not even in the room.” “I loved you, Quinn. I still do,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “I just want to feel like you love me back."

"Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you"

Quinn's hand finally found hers, his eyes pleading as she squeezed his hand and collapsed into his chest, “I know, Honey. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything else that I forgot about us. I’m sorry. I need you to know that I love you more than anything.” “I want to believe you, Quinn,” Honey said, tears streaming down her cheeks and she pulled away from his hold and wiped her tears, “but I’m worth so much more. I need time.”

Quinn nodded, his stare not leaving her frame as she met his intensity with hers, "I want to fix this hun." Honey looked away, feeling the weight of his words. She wanted to hold onto the hope that things could get better, but it all felt a little too fresh. “Okay,” she said softly, pulling her hands away, “We’ll see.”

"I've waited and waited"

Honey lay in bed alone after Quinn opted to sleep on the couch, her thoughts fuelled by emotions and the room felt heavy with the weight of their unresolved issues.

As the hours ticked by, Honey felt a sense of longing settles in her chest, a deep ache for the old them that they had lost. She thought about all the times she had waited, waited for Quinn to come home, waited for him to notice her, waited for him to understand the depth of her love.

But tonight, as she lay there in the darkness, she realized that she couldn’t wait any longer.

★★★★

"Man, am I the greatest? God, I hate it. All my love and patience, unappreciated You said your heart was jaded, you couldn't even break it I shouldn't have to say it You could have been the greatest"

The morning after the big blow-up felt comfortable like a weight was lifted from her conscience as she made her way downstairs, the familiar sounds of the house greeted her—the soft hum of the coffee maker, the faint laughter of her children playing in the living room. She smiled at the feeling of familiarity that lay in the simplicity of their little family.

Quinn sat at the kitchen table, sipping his morning coffee, his eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and hope as he looked up at her. “Honey, I’ve been thinking...” But before he could finish, Honey held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “Quinn, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking too.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Honey could see the glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes as she continued, what looked to be tears lined his eyes and he nodded and ducked his head down.

It's really over, he thought to himself

“I realized that I’ve been waiting for something that may never come,” she said, her voice steady and resolute, “I’ve waited for you to see me, to appreciate me, to love me the way I deserve. But I can’t wait any longer.” Quinn’s expression softened, his gaze searching hers for understanding. “Honey, I dont—”

But Honey interrupted him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I’ve realized that I don’t need to wait for anyone to validate my worth. I am enough, just as I am. And I deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates all that I am.” Quinn’s eyes widened in realization, a regret crossing his face as his hand reached for hers, “I know I’ve taken you for granted, and I’ve made so many mistakes, but I hope you know that I love you, more than anything. I want to make it right.”

Honey's thumb ran over his knuckles, her heart overflowing with love and forgiveness. “I know you do, Quinn, and I love you too, I need to see It though, I need to see you showing up, and I expect you to make an effort for me and for our kids.” Quinn nodded, his eyes shining with determination. “I promise, Honey, I promise to be the partner you deserve.”

Honey smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. “I believe you, Quinn,” her gaze travelled over to where their kids sat on the couch, and her gaze fell back onto him, a shy smile on his face as she settled in the seat next to his, thighs pressed against each other as they feel back into the comfort of one another. He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips as his hands found the sides of her face, he pulled away first, cheeks ablaze as she grinned at his sudden shyness.

Quinn was her greatest love, and they were imperfect and flawed, but infinitely beautiful. Together, they had weathered storms and overcome obstacles, their love stronger and more resilient with each passing day. And as they sat there, surrounded by the laughter and love of their family, Honey knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be—wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to face whatever the future held, together.

Final notes: just re-read it, not as sad as I felt while writing it which is a let down :( but I still like it!!

Also, Warren would not be old enough to qualify for a brick invitational, I realized that after I wrote it, he's like 6ish here and he would need to be 9-10, so plz pretend it's correct for the sake of the fic :)))

#thelittlesthughesau!!#quinn hughes #dad!quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x oc

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ltash · 4 months

Text

Make a wish

You celebrated your birthday with Ghost and TaskForce and you wished for nothing but him.

"To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that’s everything."

After Captain Price and his team finished breakfast, you settled in the living room. You brought the tea trolley over and made them tea, handing a cup and saucer to everyone.

"Thank you, kid," Captain Price said as you served him.

You gave tea to Soap and Gaz too. "Ghost, you want tea?" you asked.

"Sure," he replied.

You handed him a cup as well. "Yer hoose is braw, and it's right lavish an aw." Soap admired.

"English Mctavish." Ghost facepalmed.

"I said your house is lavish and its nice." Soap explained.

"Thank you. My father built it. I'll give you a home tour once you guys finish your tea," you offered.

"She is a master in archery aye. She has horses too. She can shoot an arrow right at the aim while riding a horse," Ghost added.

"That is impressive, Nora," Gaz admired.

"Thanks. I will show you how I do it," you promised.

"Oh, I forgot," you said, suddenly remembering. "I did some shopping and the bags are still in the car. Let me fetch them."

As you made your way to your car, Ghost followed you. "The guns you bought, let me take them inside," he offered.

You opened the car doors and took out the bags while Ghost grabbed the gun cases. Together, you walked back inside.

You handed over the bags to each one of them. "Soap, this is for you. Kyle, that's one for you. This one's for Simon and Captain Price," you said, distributing the gifts.

"Thank you so much, lass," Soap said rummaging through the bag.

"Are ye pullin' ma leg? how much did ye spend on thae things?" He asked.

"Well! That is none of your business. Gifts don't come with a price tag." You folded your arms on your chest.

"Thanks, Nora, but you didn't have to put in so much effort," Kyle added, looking genuinely touched.

"Thanks, kid," Captain Price mentioned, nodding appreciatively.

"Don't mention it. I went shopping and thought, why not grab something for you guys?"

Ghost placed the gun cases down on the table. "She bought these too," he added.

Ghost opened the gun and sniper cases in front of everyone, revealing the impressive weapons inside.

"Whoa! A sniper! Are you kiddin' me?" Soap exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "Whit will ye dae wi' a sniper?"

"I like snipers, plus Ghost is here. He’ll teach me before he goes back. He taught me a couple of days ago," you explained with a grin.

"Wow! This is one o' the best snipers in the world," Soap said, admiring the sleek design. "Thank ye so much."

"Yeah, Ghost recommended it to me, so I got it," you said, glancing at Ghost.

Soap looked over at Ghost in disbelief. "Weel, LT himself disnae hae a sniper like this. It's much better than the ones he's got."

You smiled. "Well, now he has it."

Ghost shook his head. "No, I don't. And I don't want it anyway," he said quietly.

Soap chuckled. "Yer loss, LT. This is a beauty."

Ghost simply shrugged, the rare softness in his eyes replaced by his usual stoic expression.

"Why? It's a gift from me to you," you said, looking at Ghost.

"If you had mentioned it when you were buying it, I would have never let you get it in the first place," Ghost replied. "It's too expensive."

You shook your head. "Gifts don't come with a price tag. Captain Price, please make him understand."

"Take it, Ghost," Captain Price said, nodding.

"I can't, Price," Ghost insisted, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Okay, then throw it in the garbage, will you?" You snapped, shutting the sniper case with a bang. Your lower lip started quivering, and tears welled up in your eyes as you ran upstairs.

"You broke her heart, LT," Soap said, his voice filled with disappointment.

You closed the door and fell face-first onto the pillow, tears streaming down your face. It was so embarrassing and disappointing at the same time. Your sobs filled the room, muffled by the pillow.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your crying. "Open the door, love," Ghost said in a gentle tone.

For a moment, you hesitated, your emotions swirling inside you, but then you slowly got up and walked to the door.

You opened the door, still feeling annoyed and hurt. "What do you want?" You said, your voice tinged with frustration.

Ghost came inside and closed the door behind him. He walked over to your bed and sat down, he pat his thigh and opened his arms for you gesturing for you to come sit on his lap.

For a moment, you stood there, conflicted, but then you slowly walked over and allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting arms.

"You cryin', love?" Ghost asked softly.

You wiped your tears hastily. "No," you replied, trying to regain your composure.

"Hmm, I see," he said, his gaze understanding.

"Why did you embarrass me in front of your team?" You asked, your voice tinged with hurt.

"You got it for yourself, love. That's why," he replied simply.

"I can get another one for myself," You insisted.

"Okay, I'll take it, but only on one condition," he said.

"What condition exactly?" You asked, curious.

"You'll have to take mine. I'll teach you how to use it. It's smooth in my hands," he explained.

"Okay, deal!" You agreed, offering your hand to shake, but he surprised you by kissing your knuckles.

"Come, let's go downstairs," he said, taking your hand gently.

"Ghost!" You called out as he turned to leave.

He looked back at you. "Yes?"

"Do you still have your navy blue uniform, the one you wore when I saw you for the first time?" You asked, still holding his hand.

"Yes, but why do you ask?" he inquired.

"Will you wear it for me on my birthday? You look so good in that. I'll unwrap you as my gift," you said, giggling at the thought.

"Yeah, sure, but get ready to explain why I'm wearing it to my team, especially Price," he chuckled.

"Leave it to me. No worries," you assured him, and you made your way downstairs.

"Did you change your mind, LT?" Soap asked as you entered the room.

"Yes," Ghost replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Good," Soap said, nodding in approval.

Meanwhile, you glanced into Captain Price's eyes, seeing a mixture of curiosity and intrigue reflecting back at you.

You led them to the back of the house where your horses were stabled.

"Meet Arther and Elfie," You introduced Soap to your beloved companions.

"Such bonnie horses," Soap remarked, admiring their beauty.

Next, you demonstrated your archery skills, drawing back the bowstring with precision and releasing it with practiced ease. Captain Price watched intently, a glint of admiration in his eyes.

"Remarkable," he exclaimed, genuinely impressed by your proficiency.

Ghost retrieved his sniper rifle and handed it to you. "Try it," he encouraged.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of the weapon in your hands. With his guidance, you took aim, your finger hovering over the trigger. The rifle trembled slightly as you pulled, but you managed to hit the target, albeit not as accurately as you had hoped.

"It's not easy," you admitted, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

"But you did well, considering," Ghost reassured you, his tone encouraging.

You smiled gratefully, grateful for his support.

As the evening descended, the cake was delivered, marking the beginning of your birthday celebration. Your house help had meticulously arranged all the decorations and table settings before bidding you farewell for the night.

Meanwhile, Captain Price took the opportunity to discuss their upcoming mission with his team, their voices low and serious as they strategized.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you retreated to your room to change into your birthday dress. The corset that came with it proved to be a challenge as you struggled to zip it up on your own. Frustrated, you knocked on Ghost's door, hoping for assistance.

He opened the door, and your jaw dropped at the sight before you. He had changed into the navy blue uniform, looking incredibly attractive in it.

"What happened?" he asked, noticing your expression.

You entered his room and closed the door behind you. "Simon, can you please help me zip my dress? I can't reach it," you requested, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

Standing in front of the mirror, you were almost ready, the dress clinging to your figure. He stepped behind you, his presence towering over yours. The corset accentuated your petite frame, making you feel even smaller in comparison.

His gloved hand brushed against the bare skin of your back as he took hold of the zipper, and you sucked in a breath at the unexpected sensation. Your heart raced as you felt the warmth of his touch, his closeness sending shivers down your spine.

He zipped up your dress smoothly, his voice breaking the silence. "You're good now," he said softly, his words lingering in the air between you.

"Thank you," you murmured gratefully as you turned around. He put his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up meeting his gaze.

"Ready to be be my good girl tonight. Will ya?" His masked lips touched your cheek.

You blushed and ran towards the door. Standing at the doorway you peaked a last glance at him. You exited Ghost's room and returned to your own.

As Ghost stepped out of his room, he encountered Soap making his way upstairs.

"Going on a mission, LT?" Soap teased, noting Ghost's uniform.

"Yes, birthday mission," Ghost quipped in response.

"Seriously! Why are you wearing your uniform?" Soap inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Because she asked me to wear it," Ghost explained simply.

"Hmm, I see. She likes you in it," Soap remarked before continuing downstairs, leaving Ghost to ponder his words.

They all waited for you downstairs, their anticipation palpable in the air. With a final glance in the mirror, you made sure everything was perfect before slipping on your heels and descending the staircase.

As you reached the bottom step, you were greeted by their warm smiles.

"Here she is," Captain Price announced, his voice carrying a note of pride.

"Wow! Lass, you're looking so beautiful," Soap complimented, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks at his kind words.

You couldn't help but notice Ghost's gaze fixed on you, practically staring. His intense scrutiny made you feel vulnerable, as if he was seeing right through you. Yet, amidst the intensity, there was a glimmer of admiration in his stare, a silent acknowledgment that spoke volumes.

"Make a wish, lass," Soap chuckled, gesturing towards the candles on the cake.

Closing your eyes, you made a silent wish. A wish for Simon to be yours forever, for his safety, and for him to return to you unscathed from every mission.

With a deep breath, you blew out the candles, the room erupting into cheers and the chorus of "Happy Birthday."

As you opened your eyes, you felt a rush of warmth and gratitude wash over you. It truly was the best day of your life after your father's death.

Captain Price stepped forward, presenting you with a small box. You opened it eagerly to reveal a beautiful, delicate metallic quartz watch nestled inside.

"Thank you! It's so precious," you exclaimed, touched by the thoughtful gift.

As you all enjoyed the cake and then indulged in dinner, Captain Price suddenly cleared his throat, directing his attention to Ghost. "Simon, why are you wearing your uniform?" His question caught Ghost off guard, but before he could respond, you jumped in to explain.

"Actually, I asked him to wear that for my birthday. I was curious to see him in uniform," you said, offering Ghost a reassuring smile. His eyes crinkled from behind the balaclava he was wearing, a silent acknowledgment of his amusement.

"Alright, gentlemen, want something to drink? Please, help yourselves," you announced, rising from your seat and making your way to the bar. You took out the glasses, giving them a moment to process the exchange.

Soap and Ghost then took the dishes to the kitchen while the rest of you settled in the garden, enjoying the pleasant evening. Soap, with his characteristic sense of humor, regaled you all with his silly jokes, eliciting laughter from all of you.

"Hey LT, what has five toes and is not your foot?" Soap said.

"What?" Ghost asked.

"My foot!." Soap said and burst out laughing.

You couldn't control your laughter too. Soap was so funny.

"Your turn LT". Soap pointed towards Ghost.

"What do we call the fish who wears a bow tie?" Ghost asked.

You looked at each other's faces.

"Sofishticated." Ghost said.

Nobody laughed.

"What? Wasn't it funny?" Ghost said.

He was met with silence.

As the night grew late, you found myself sitting beside Ghost. His hand resting on the small of your back while everybody was busy talking.

He turned to look at you. Your blue eyes met with his caramel ones.

You stood up and went to stand at the door, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

"Aye! Come join us," Ghost called out, noticing your presence.

"No, you enjoy yourself. I'm going to bed now," you replied, turning around to head upstairs.

But before you could take another step, Ghost approached you and grabbed your wrist. "Hi, Lieutenant," you teased, your voice soft and playful.

You placed your hands on his chest, tilting your chin up to look at him. "Hell, if you put a bullet through my heart, I will spare you my life," you retorted, a smile playing on your lips.

You took the whiskey glass from his hand and placed your lips at the same spot he drank from and chug it at once.

You turned to go upstairs, but Ghost surprised you by grabbing you around the waist, causing you to squeak in surprise.

"Is everything alright there?" Captain Price's voice rang out from the garden.

"Yes, everything is fine, Price," Ghost replied calmly, his gaze locked on yours.

With a swift motion, Ghost lifted you into his arms and carried you upstairs, his strength both surprising and comforting.

"Your room or mine?" he asked with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Pic credit:

IG: Vehenan Virabelasan

#cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #task force 141 #task force x reader

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vampyr-ss · 1 month

Text

autonomy vs. shame and doubt | t. aemond

wc: 1.1k

other: this is a drabble lol

warnings: angst angst angst + aemond's 18 for marriage sake + targcest (reader is velaryon) + a little high valyrian + spoilers if you didn't finish season 1 + reader being afab alluded because they have a son.

the night your husband killed lucerys you had been putting your son to bed. growing up with aemond and the rest, lucerys was easily your favorite. you were older than him but held such a soft spot for the boy even if your families argued. aemond knew this, and albeit being completely platonic. you would never seek luke’s company like you sought out aemond’s. he knows this. or, at least, he should have.

aemond didn’t mean to kill luke. he regretted it the second he watched vhagar rage in retaliation. he knew that his newly-bonded dragon did not know him, nor did he, her. he felt the blind rage engulf the both of them as she soared higher than arrax. she ensured that she was above him before dipping quickly, and in the blink of an eye lucerys targaryen and his dragon were gone. aemond felt his voice cry out, but the damage was done. there was nothing to do.

so, he fled.

when he came stumbling into your shared chambers, your son aenar was barely being put down. his head of white hair fell sleepily against his blanket in his crib. his dragon egg nestled comfortably near him, glowing a gentle green as it bonds with your son day by day. you flinched at the sound of the doors to your chamber being practically thrown open, your husbands ragged breaths quickly filling the air,

your son doesn’t wake, though he does shift in place. “aemond- aemond? is that blood?” your gentle voice shakes him from his frightened stupor, tears beginning to swell in his eyes. “i am fine, jorrāelagon it is not mine.” you rush to him as worry flits across your features. your white hair has been pulled back from your face since you were ready for bed. you quickly let your hands roam his body trying to feel for any missed injuries or anything awry. you only find the foreign blood–no signs that your husband is hurt.

(love)

“my mother sent me to interfere in rhaenyra’s plan.” he began while wrapping his arms around you. he pulled you closer to him by your waist. “lucerys was there,” dread fills his body when your eyes light up. “i got angry at him, i admit, but i did not intend to- i was angry.” your brows furrow as you try to understand your husband’s ramblings. you tilt your head at him, reeling back a little. “what are you saying, aemond?”

he cups your cheeks, admiring your face before he tells you what he knows will break your heart. you’ve always cherished him, he was practically a younger sibling to you. “i will admit i provoked him, i told him to give me his eyes. the baratheon– he told us to get out, so we did. we took to the sky, but it’s raining you know this..listen. he- he-” your eyes widen, and bile begins to build in your throat. your eyes are sore from tears unshed as you slowly confirm what plagued your thoughts. “no.”

you rip yourself from your husband’s grip. your mind runs wild with the thoughts of what he could possibly mean. little lucerys is gone? your lucerys? the lucerys that has sent you smuggled letters to your place in the castle, the lucerys who tells you of his innocent adventures and his cousin-wife’s grief? the little lucerys who has always been extra to care for? there is no way he has gone. he does not deserve it.

he does not deserve it.

without thinking, you find yourself moving towards your son. you delicately pick his little body up to cradle against yours. your first baby is gone, and the second shall never know him. the feeling in your stomach cannot be described. is this what a mother’s pain is to be? you blink back the tears in your eyes to look back at your husband, “why would you take that fucking dragon to confront lucerys? he has always been fragile!”

“my mother-” you scoff loudly, holding your son against your chest as he stirs. “aemond, fuck your mother. your bitch of a mother sent you to confront lucerys velaryon who is but a boy. he was of three and ten.” aemond flinches at the tone you take, practically yelling at him. his chest tightens and contracts when you seem to look at him in disgust. the same way you’ve looked at his mother and sir criston cole after walking in on them some time ago.

“nyke gōntan daor nūmāzma naejot issa jorrāelagon, rȳbagon issa.” you scoff as he speaks in your mother tongue. aegon’s singular eye has unshed tears clear in them because the one person he wishes to be on his side, is not. and he cannot find the means to cope with it. if you will not stay by his side, who will?

(i did not mean to my love, hear me.)

“he was a child, aemond!” you cry, tears slipping past your cheeks as anger bubbles in your stomach. you’ve carried aemond’s child. you’ve watched your son slowly progress day by day and you cannot imagine having that life taken away from him. your stomach lurches as you imagine how lucerys must have felt. you’ve no care for the issues between your family, but this specific event tears your heart apart.

aemond takes a step toward you but you snap at him immediately, frowning and gripping your son tightly against you. “no. keep your hands away from me. nyke jāhor daor sagon nykeā accomplice naejot skoros ao emagon gaomagon, se dāria rȳ se embar jāhor daor māzigon syt issa tresy. instead, pōnta jāhor emagon ao. se nyke jāhor daor sagon kesīr.” you switch into your mother tongue easily, so swiftly that aemond freezes for a split second.

(i will not be an accomplice to what you have done, the queen across the sea will not come for my son. instead, they will have you. and i will not be here.)

“you cannot possibly mean-” your eyes have welled with more tears when aemond focuses his vision completely on you from where they’re fixated on the floor. “yes. you know precisely what i mean. ūndegon issa skori ao issi daor longer aōha muñnykeā's jaos.” your face scrunches out of both disbelief and pain. your husband, the boy you’d taught yourself to fall in love with has betrayed you. he knew what place in your heart the young boy held, but he allowed childhood actions to blur his vision.

perhaps lucerys should have taken both his eyes.

(see me when you are no longer your mother’s dog.)

#hotd #hotd x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #lucerys targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd angst

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diealittlesometime · 4 months

Text

You’re beautiful

pairing ☆ wanda x reader

chapter summary ☆ marking you as hers

word count ☆ 745

note ☆ just trying something new

Navigation | N.R Masterlist | W.M Masterlist

The evening sky over Westview is a deep indigo, the stars faint glimmers against the dark canvas. Wanda and you have retreated to the intimacy of your warmly lit living room, the flickering flames from the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Seated on the plush, velvet sofa, Wanda is beside you, her presence electrifying. The faint scent of lavender and vanilla fills the air, remnants of the candles she had lit earlier. You can feel the tension between you both, a magnetic pull that has been building over the past few days, unspoken but undeniably there.

Her emerald eyes lock onto yours, and a soft smile graces her lips. Wanda’s hand reaches out, her fingers lightly brushing against your arm, sending shivers down your spine. The touch is gentle at first, almost hesitant, but it soon becomes more assertive as she inches closer, the heat from her body mingling with yours.

“Are you okay with this?” she whispers, her voice husky and filled with desire. You nod, heart pounding in anticipation.

Wanda’s hand trails up your arm, over your shoulder, and finally cups your cheek. She leans in, her breath warm against your lips. The kiss starts soft, a tender meeting of mouths, but it quickly deepens. Her lips part, and her tongue teases yours, exploring with an intensity that makes your head spin.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in her hair, pulling her closer. Her body presses against yours, and you can feel every curve, every contour. Your hands roam her back, feeling the smooth fabric of her blouse, the warmth of her skin beneath.

Wanda’s hands move too, deftly unbuttoning your shirt, her fingers grazing your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The shirt falls open, and she breaks the kiss to gaze at you, her eyes filled with hunger and admiration.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs before her lips find your neck, kissing, nibbling, sucking, marking you as hers. You moan softly, the sensation overwhelming, your hands finding their way under her blouse, feeling the heat of her skin.

With a swift motion, you pull her blouse over her head, revealing the delicate lace of her bra. You reach behind her, fingers fumbling for a moment before you unclasp it, letting it fall away to expose her. Wanda’s breath hitches as your hands caress her, your lips finding her collarbone, trailing kisses down to her breasts.

She gasps when you take a nipple into your mouth, your tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking gently. Her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer, encouraging you. You switch to the other breast, giving it the same attention, her moans music to your ears.

Wanda pushes you back onto the sofa, straddling your lap. Her hips grind against yours, and you can feel the heat between her legs, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You grasp her hips, guiding her movements, matching her rhythm.

Her hands are everywhere, exploring your chest, your stomach, before finally unbuttoning your pants. You lift your hips, helping her slide them down, along with your underwear. She does the same, and soon, there is nothing between you but the electric air.

Wanda pauses, her eyes meeting yours, filled with love and lust. She leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as she sinks onto you, taking you in completely. The sensation is indescribable, the heat, the tightness, the connection.

You move together, a perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of you. Her nails dig into your shoulders, her moans mingling with yours, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the symphony of your passion.

Wanda’s pace quickens, her breath becoming ragged. You can feel her tightening around you, her climax approaching. You match her movements, pushing her closer to the edge. With a cry of your name, she shatters, her body convulsing in pleasure. The sight, the sound, the feel of her coming undone pushes you over the edge, and you follow her into bliss.

You collapse together, a tangle of limbs, hearts racing, breaths mingling. Wanda’s head rests on your chest, her fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice soft and tender.

“I love you too,” you reply, holding her close, never wanting to let go.

The night is yours, filled with love, passion, and the promise of many more enchanted nights to come.

#wanda maximoff #fem!reader #lgbtq #marvel #mcu fic #wlw #wanda x reader #smut

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mllemaenad · 1 year

Text

Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.

See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.

And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.

These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.

An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.

Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.

The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.

What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.

Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.

He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.

That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.

So that didn't work.

Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.

But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.

So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.

Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.

And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.

Mizora created solidarity. Oops.

Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.

But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.

But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.

The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.

But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

I don't if you'll do this request but I wanna request for Fan!Wanda x Singer!Reader (Reader has the music of Elvis Presley) Wanda meets Reader for the first time and they instantly click

I CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1631

WARNINGS: fluff, fan!Wanda, singer!R, literally nothing but sweet fluff sooooo :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda looked at her empty bank account with a frown on her face, she had paid so much to try and get tickets to your concert that she forgot to have common sense. But this was an exception, you were her idol, the person she’d been dreaming of meeting for years. She had posters of you in her room, even, and now she was going to be meeting you. After the concert she’d be able to take a photo with the person she’s been obsessing over for years, this was worth the missed bills.

She entered the building after hours of waiting and took her spot near the front row, admiring the platform that would soon be holding you. Jitters of excitement coursed through her as a smile was plastered on her lips, she had never been so happy.

Shouts of your name could be heard across the entire stadium yet she was the loudest, she couldn’t care less if she’d lose her voice the next day. She blushed from your radiant smile alone and held onto the bars tightly as people tried getting as close to the front, nearly squishing her in. She was trying to enjoy this, but the pain in her stomach from the railing was not making it easy.

“Hey! Can everyone please take a few steps back from the front?” You asked when your song came to an end, the rasp in your voice sending many into spirals. They listened and Wanda was nothing but grateful, especially when she noticed your eyes on hers for a brief moment.

“Thank you, thank you!” The show continued like normal, but Wanda couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear when watching the way your lips moved so well. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers.

“Thank you for coming everybody! I can’t wait to meet some of y’all, and for the rest of you, have an amazing night!” You were rushed off the stage by your managers and you instantly chugged down the extra water they offered you. While you loved your fans more than anything, it was so tiring and exhausting sometimes. But you wouldn’t trade this for the world, it was your dream since childhood and now you’re here, singing your heart out in front of thousands of people.

“Okay, everyone please calm down, you’ll all get a chance to see them.” The young lady spoke, trying her best to gather the crowd but failing to be heard. You picked at the skin of your nails anxiously and bit your lip, trying to gather yourself before they all started filing through. That didn’t last very long.

Most of the people who saw you were trying their best to talk to you or were crying their eyes out, you helped them as much as possible and gave them a small hug before taking a photo and signing their item of choice.

Once the wave ended, you took a deep breath before they got ready for the next. And it continued that way until nearly two full hours passed. It was close to midnight and while you felt horrible for the people who had to wait so long to see their favorite artist, all you wanted to do was go home.

Wanda, on the other hand, was shaking with joy when she was next in line, her gaze being able to land on your figure with how close she was. You said your goodbyes to the young gentleman in front of you and turned to look at her, eyes widening slightly in result. She was beautiful, you’ve never seen such a woman.

“Uh, hi, it’s wonderful to meet you.” You shook her hand and, even if she was the one meant to be filled with nerves, somehow you were even worse. It wasn’t often you got to meet someone who held such power over you as a normal civilian.

“Hi, Ms- uhm, Y/N.” You chuckled as your hand stayed in hers, only when you realized did you pull away hesitantly.

“Alright, can we get this going? There’s a line of people out there.” You nodded and wrapped your arm around her, pulling her close and smiling as she hugged your waist. A blush was adorning your cheeks along with hers, and when she pulled away, she grabbed something from the back of her pocket and you thought she was going to ask you for an autograph but instead it was a small bracelet. You looked down at the object with a grin, only to notice she was being directed to leave.

“Wait!” She turned around and so did the groups of workers. “Uh, would you be willing to wait for me? This group will be done in about five minutes. Obviously, only if you want to, of course.”

“Yes!” She must’ve cringed at her eagerness and cleared her throat before retrying. “I mean- that would be great, I’ll meet you in the back?”

“Yeah, right behind the curtain and I’ll be there.” She nodded and was then brought to the spot you requested, happiness being evident in your expression for the rest of the few minutes.

Before the next wave could come in, you went to where the brunette was waiting and greeted her with a hug this time, letting yourself linger a moment too long and only pulling away so you could properly see her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually do this. I just saw you in the front row and thought you were absolutely beautiful and then you came in and I didn’t want to let you walk away without saying something.” She lowered her head in embarrassment when she was beaming in excitement, not only did she get to meet you but here you were standing right in front of her complimenting her beauty.

“Would it be okay if I got your number? Or I could give you mine, t-that would be okay too. That is if you want to-“ Noticing her rapid nod was the only answer you needed and wanted. You let out a relieved sigh and took out your phone where you accessed your keypad before handing it over. She shakily typed, making sure to read the numbers over and over in case it was wrong.

“There, you can text me after the meet and greet or whenever really, I don’t mind.” She chuckled anxiously and, before you could say anything else, workers were trying to usher you back inside.

“Well, I’ll text you then.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips onto your cheek and leaving with a small wave, trying her best to keep her composure and not completely freak out. The rest of the night she was stuck on your mind as you were hers. She stared at the poster in her room where you sang a sweet melody into the mic, not only did she get to hear it in person but there’s a chance she could again, this time with only you.

Suddenly, her phone rang and she was greeted with an unknown number, but she knew it was you.

“Hey, I know I said I would text but- I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually glad you called, I’ve been thinking about you.” She heard shuffling on the other side along with the beeping of an open car door.

“Oh yeah?” She giggled quietly, trying not to wake up her sleeping parents in the next room.

“Well, would it be weird for me to say I’ve been thinking about you too?” Her heart skipped a beat as one side of her wanted to scream in joy, while the other part of her knew that would most likely blow her chance with you.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Just how nice it would be to take you on a date sometime.” She was silent for a moment before she spoke up, the anxiety inside of you growing and growing in hopes of receiving the answer you want.

“You wanna take me on a date?”

“Why not? You’re simply the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever had the blessing of laying my eyes on and I can already tell you have the kindest soul known to mad-kind, I guess I just want to learn more about you.” You must’ve had experience with dating as you nearly knocked her off her feet. If you asked her to marry her at this exact moment, she would’ve said yes.

“Then I guess I can’t say no to that, now can I?”

“I guess not. How about this Friday night, you busy?” The decision-making went on for only a few minutes as she internally canceled any plans she may have for the next year if it meant she got to spend the evening with you.

“I can give you my address and you can stop by, but I get if that sounds a little creepy for a first date.”

“No, no, that’s fine! Yeah, just send me the info and I’ll be there.” She bit her lip nervously until she saw the text from you, writing down and memorizing the apartment number multiple times.

“Alright, I’ll be there, 8 PM sharp.” You said your goodbyes after nearly half an hour of talking, but you didn’t want to stop yet. You wanted to keep going, to create small conversations again and again if it meant hearing her voice. No one had ever had such a pull on you before, what was so different about her?

Meanwhile, Wanda was already planning her outfit for the upcoming event, scurrying through each dress or jumpsuit to try and figure out what would impress you the most. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight.

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arabellasleopardcoat · 1 year

Text

Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)

Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

Rquested: Yes!

A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.

“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.

You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.

“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.

Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.

With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.

“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”

“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -

But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.

“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”

And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.

“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”

You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.

“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”

Rhaenyra laughs.

“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.

“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.

“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”

You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.

“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”

You open and close your mouth a few times.

“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.

“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.

“It’s what you deserve.”

She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.

You declare war dressed in black and red.

The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.

“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.

You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.

In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.

“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.

Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.

“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.

“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.

“I do not care what he has said.”

“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.

“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.”

And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.

At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.

“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”

He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.

“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.

“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.

“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.

“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”

“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”

“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.

“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”

“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.

You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.

Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?

Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.

“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”

Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.

But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.

Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.

“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head.

“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.

“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.

“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.

You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.

It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.

And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.

“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.

You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.

She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?

“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.

“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.

“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”

“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”

She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.

It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.

“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.

A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?

“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”

“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.

“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.

“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.

A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.

“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”

You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.

A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.

You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.

You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.

Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.

Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.

As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.

Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.

Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.

“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.

“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.

She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.

Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.

What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.

“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.

Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.

You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.

Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.

And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra the cruel #queen rhaenyra

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builtbybrokenbells · 3 months

Text

Melodic Memories | Track 4: The Air That I Breathe - The Hollies

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, (sweet and lazy) morning sex, praise, biting, simultaneous orgasm, cockwarming if you squint, sadness, heartbreak, breakups, fighting, arguing, crying, frustration/anger, miscommunication, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, flirting, fluff, angst, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

hi everyone. remember i love you!!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! 🤍😌

Also a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, putting up with my craziness, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories wouldn’t be what it is without you 😌

Jake’s POV

“If I could make a wish

I think I’d pass

Can’t think of anything I need

No cigarettes, no sleep, no light, no sound

Nothing to eat, no books to read.”

Rays of sunlight scattered across the room, the flowing curtains sheer and allowing the golden hue to fill the space around you. You were half covered with the sheet, the cool air in the room unable to bother you as you turned on your side. You knew exactly where the comforter had disappeared to, and despite the nagging chill, you felt warmer than ever before. The sweet smell of a million memories danced around your head, laced with orange blossoms and vanilla. As you leaned in closer, jasmine and pear joined the crowd. It was a perfect match, things you’d come in contact with plenty of times in her absence, but not even true plush petals of blossoms on trees nor vanilla beans wore it as well as she did.

Your eyes landed on her, cocooned in the expensive duvet as she slept away the early morning. Her hair was a mess, covering the white cotton pillowcase below her. Her eyes were closed, peacefulness encasing her features as deep breaths moved her shoulders. Her dark eyelashes dusted over the barely-there freckles on her cheeks, casting a small shadow over the bridge of her nose. Her lips, pink and parted ever so slightly, allowing for soft snores to escape made it difficult to sit by and watch the scene, rather than lean forward and kiss her, but you abided by the rules, deciding it was best to admire her than wake her and let the moment pass.

Goosebumps raised on your skin, not because of the coolness of the air conditioning seeping through the woven threads of the sheet, but because waking next to her was an otherworldly experience that you were lucky enough to be a part of yet again. Your mouth was dry, your lungs devoid of air, your veins depleted of the blood that once ran through them, and your heart barely beating in a fruitless endeavor. In the moment, you did not survive off the flesh and bone that carried you to twenty-five, but off of the woman beside you, granting you every desire and wish you’d ever dreamed of.

Waking next to her had been something you longed for since the last morning shared with her, vaguely remembering her sweetness as sleep begged to draw her back in and the tired smile that fought its way onto her perfectly crafted features. She slept so soundly, like trouble had never touched her and pain feared to disturb her. She embodied every single trait of the sun shining in the sky, the light emitting from her even when she was not awake to encourage it.

She was the most precious thing the world had ever created, and she was here with you, trusting you enough to let her guard down and show herself to you in the most vulnerable of ways. Sex was good—great, even. It was intimate, invigorating and fulfilling, and you had dreamed of it a million times, but this was something entirely different. This was the best moment of your day, the highlight of your life as you took the opportunity to admire her when innocence and effortless beauty radiated from her. Sex was great, but waking up to the sight of her beside you was something even greater than that, something you had dreamed of a million and one times in the six years you spent apart.

No matter how much you enjoyed the activities of the night prior, loving her so wholeheartedly for no other reason aside from love itself was always better.

You placed your elbow on the pillow, propping your chin in your hand as you studied her, the constellations of dots decorating her smooth skin, the youthfulness of the girl you loved when you were eighteen and the elegance of the woman you were lucky enough to love now combined all in one. It was a picture you never wanted to lose, one you would spend a lifetime dedicated to remembering in pristine detail, and one that you could survive off alone. You would stave off hunger until it was nonexistent, ignore the thirst until you forgot what it was like to drink water, wither away to nothingness so long as she was there for you to admire. You didn’t need any other entertainment, never wanting to sleep again, never needing to play a guitar or hear the sweet melody of a song again, because she filled you with so much love there was no room left for anything else.

Even if there was, it would pale in comparison to her.

The air flowing in the room, perfectly controlled as it tousled the strands of hair falling over her forehead, could not even disturb her from the slumber she found herself in. It made you wonder if she slept as good as you did, if going to bed while the two of you were apart was as torturous to her as it was for you. Six years of nearly sleepless nights had taken its toll, leaving you exhausted and dreading to fall into bed when the day passed by. Last night, you finally found relief that no aid could match. You tried whiskey, above recommended doses of cold medicine and melatonin, company from another, lesser woman than her, and even Josh’s ridiculous guided meditations, but nothing could cure the nightmare plagued sleep or the relentless tossing and turning.

Nothing until she laid her head on the pillow next to you, her fingers twisting locks of your hair around her finger as her warm breath tickled her neck.

Nothing until you closed your eyes, surrounded by orange blossoms, pears, jasmine, and the faint whisper of vanilla.

Nothing until the warmth of sunshine itself wrapped around you, glowing bright despite the looming moonlight and twinkling stars.

This morning, you awoke with a new lease on life, well rested and with a full heart. The heaviness that constantly weighed down on your shoulders disappeared without a trace, and the storm clouds that forever followed you cleared, allowing for a long awaited taste of blue skies.

You were home again, and Michigan had little to do with the warmth you were experiencing. The woman beside you was many things, but more than anything else, she was the biggest comfort you had ever encountered. She made the world turn with ease, the flowers blossomed as she walked by, and the birds sang a song curated just for her ears. She made all the previous pain worth it, and any bad thing to come obsolete, because when she was loving you, nothing could hurt.

Your breath caught in your throat as her eyes fluttered, her eyelashes tickling her skin as she broke from the blanket tightly wrapped around her. Slowly, her arms stretched above her head, a long breath of air filling her lungs as she prepared to face the world for another day. You wondered how she made it look so easy, how perfection was second nature even when she couldn’t notice it herself. You wondered how everything she did, no matter if it was mundane or grandois, stole the air straight from your lungs and left your head spinning.

Her eyes fully opened, slowly blinking as she tried to pull herself out of her sleepy state. Once she registered where she was, her gaze slowly turned to you, watching silently with a smile on your face. It didn’t take long for her lips to turn upwards, too.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You whispered, giving her ample time to come back to earth before you spoke.

“Good morning, bug.” She said, pushing the blankets away from her face as she turned her head towards you. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Only for a little while.” You confessed, slightly sheepish about it. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has.” She agreed, reaching forward and letting her fingers graze over your blushing cheeks. “I would have done the same thing. Kinda sad I can’t, honestly.”

“I can pretend to be asleep, if you want?” You grinned. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at your ridiculous need to please her all of the time.

“Think it’s okay, honey. Would take the charm out of it.” She giggled, her eyes turning down to the flimsy sheet covering your legs and stopping just below your navel. “Sorry I stole the blankets.”

“Are you kidding? Been waiting six years for you to steal the blankets from me again.” You stressed your point, ensuring she understood that this was all you ever thought about.

“You’re cold.” She stated, her fingers trailing down your frigid arm. “Come here.” She said, lifting the blanket for you to join her. You slid over, noticing her turn on her side away from you once the comforter was covering you. You slipped an arm around her waist, turning on your side just the same as her while you pulled her into you.

In an instant, you were surrounded in the familiar perfume still clinging to her skin, the soft strands of her hair tickling your face as you buried your head in her neck. Your hand talked upwards, a natural reaction to holding her in such a way. Your palm landed on her still bare breast, cupping it as her arm settled on top of yours. She pushed herself backwards a little further, her back completely pressed against you and the curve of her ass fitting perfectly against your hips. You placed a kiss to her shoulder blade, your stomach twisted with nerves and your entire body tingling with pleasure just from the simple position.

Holding her was your favorite thing to do, even if you knew it had to end eventually. Although the loss of her was debilitating, the few moments you had her all to yourself made up for the pain it caused when she pulled away. If it were up to you, you would hold her just like this for the rest of your life. If she allowed it, you would never let her go.

“You sleep okay?” You asked, your words muffled from your mouth lingering against her skin.

“Better than ever.” She whispered, without a doubt in her mind about it. “You?”

“Me too.” You hummed, letting your eyes flutter closed as you breathed her in. There was nowhere in the world you’d rather be, the surplus of emotion coursing through you so unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

You fell back into silence, neither of you needing to explain any further because you understood exactly how you both felt. The cloud of sleepiness was still hovering around the two of you, begging to pull you back in. It was tempting, but you fought it with everything in you, knowing you didn’t want to miss a single second of loving her.

Absentmindedly, you let your thumb drift over her nipple, hardened from the cold hair combined with your touch. She shuddered at the feeling, her hips pushing backwards into you as a natural response. The movement sent a flood of adrenaline through you and a sudden rush of blood straight to your dick.

“Careful, sweetheart.” You warned, letting her know the consequences of her actions were imminent. She could feel you resting against her ass, catching on to your intent immediately. Instead of heeding your advice, she arched her back slightly, pressing herself against your length even further. Your fingers tightened on her and your hips moved forward to meet hers, in search of relief already even though she barely did anything at all. “You want more already?” You smiled, relieved to know you weren’t the only one tormented by need.

“Been so long, baby.” She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Been so long since someone could do it right.” She corrected herself, just as eager to make up for all the lost time. You let your fingers trail over her bare stomach, the touch light and tickling her as you advanced toward her hip. You could only imagine she was sore, bruised and still tired from the night prior, so you promised to be gentle with her from your touch alone.

“You know I’ll always give you what you want, angel.” You assured her, knowing that your statement did not even scratch the surface. You would do anything for her, even if it was a hindrance to yourself. You would move heaven and earth to see her smile, you would spend every dollar and every minute of every day in an effort to make her happy. You would do anything, be anything, and give anything for her. You hoped that she knew, that she understood just how important she was and how much you cared about her. You hoped that in a single day, you were able to show her the love you’d sworn to give her when you were fifteen asking her to be your girlfriend in the park, all over again at twenty five.

Slowly, your hand drifted down to her thigh, snaking around to the front of her. Before you could go any further, she reached down and stopped you, turning her head back over her shoulder as she shook her head ‘no’. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what caused her sudden change of heart all whilst you admired the softness and beauty in her still tired eyes.

“I don’t want that. I want you.” She whispered, hoping you understood her meaning. At that, you swallowed hard, feeling your dick throb at the intent of her actions. She was not in search of pleasure from an orgasm, but rather the pleasure of being close to you. She missed it, just as intensely and deeply as you did, the feeling of belonging to each other.

“You have me, sweetness.” You promised her, but abided by her wishes and instead used your hand on her leg to prop it up. You slid down on the mattress a little further, holding her thigh as she steadied it in the new position. “Used to dream of waking up like this every night.” You couldn’t help but feel a smile pull at your lips, almost unable to believe that she was there, beside you and wanting everything you hated yourself for needing all of the time.

“Don’t have to dream anymore, bug.” She breathed, arching her back a little further as you reached between your bodies and lined yourself up with her. You wondered if she thought about it as much as you did, if she craved the feeling of your hands on her skin with such a ferocity that it nearly brought her to her knees. You wanted to ask, to know if she daydreamed about tangled limbs and lazy Sundays in bed together, but a small part of you knew she did, or she wouldn’t have come back.

Your tip was settled over her entrance, already slick with arousal just from the thought of fucking you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling forward as your forehead rested against her shoulder blade. You pulled her down just a little further, letting your hand hold the underside of her thigh so she did not have to exert her energy keeping the limb locked in place. As she moved down, you pushed your hips forward, letting out a hiss of pleasure through your clenched teeth. You pushed forward the rest of the way, hearing her let out a sigh of relief at the feeling as you brushed against the sensitive spot you knew so well.

“You always feel so fucking good, sunshine.” You muttered, taking a moment to rest inside of her. Your heart drummed against your chest, pressed against her back so she could feel the rhythmic beat that depended on her love alone. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.” You followed up your statement, still in disbelief that you had the opportunity to hold her so close again. Still, as you said it, you felt an unfamiliar tug of uncertainty twist your stomach.

Was she yours?

You hadn’t discussed that—in fact, you hadn’t discussed anything. You woke up, still stuck in a cloud of euphoria from life’s turn of events, still living in the fairytale world you had worked together to create. She wasn’t yours in any truthful manner, but rather just the fallacy you had created in your head. The plague of heartbreak continued consuming you, eating away at any bit of sanity that still remained, begging you to air out the unspoken fears that you still had. You couldn’t move forward without addressing what had already happened, which led you to a lazy morning hookup after a successful second first date. You hadn’t addressed the reason for the second first date at all, and if you continued to neglect the fact, it would leave you both at the very beginning again.

Not yet. Not now.

You shoved the feelings down, swallowing them as they got stuck in your throat. They were desperate to be spoken, but you couldn’t allow them to be. You had no idea where they would lead you, and you weren’t risking the end already, not when you just got her back, and not when you were sharing the intimacy with her you’d been craving so badly.

Soon, but certainly not now.

“Fuck, Jake.” She whispered, moving her hips further down in search of what you were holding back. Your name falling from her lips was like summer rain, washing over you with warmth as it relieved you from the irritating burn of the blazing sun. You wanted to hear it again, for her to say it over and over again until she could speak no more and your ears were ringing in the static silence. You never wanted her to stop saying it, never again giving her the chance to speak the name of another.

“This is what you wanted, sweetheart?” You asked, beginning a slow pace with your hips. Your fingers tightened against the flesh of her thigh, a whole new spot to leave a mark on her, ensuring she would remember the moment as the days passed her by.

“Yes, baby.” She breathed, leaning backwards so she was flush against your chest.

Your head fell to the crook of her neck, the sweet scent of her perfume invading your senses as your lips attached to the delicate skin. She was already littered with love bites, her skin sensitive as your tongue traced over her. You didn’t care, and she didn’t either; the state you had left each other in was childish, similar to the way you used to act when you were younger. Even if you would face ridicule at the hands of your careless actions, you were just happy to feel like you were hers again, for others to believe she was yours again.

To feel and to believe, but never in certainty. Even if it was true, you wondered for how long this time.

Although you would promise forever, and you longed to hear it from her too, you did not know. You weren’t even sure if she wanted forever, or if this was a passing moment that would leave you both alone again, with even less closure than before. The idea hurt, and it hurt achingly bad, taking over your entire body with such a devastating effect that it even seemed to overshadow the pleasure that came from being inside of her.

Why did it hurt so bad when everything seemed so good? When perfection was all around you? When the world seemed right for the first time in six years? Why now?

Perhaps it never stopped. The hurt did not go away when she broke the silence, not even when you showed up at her door. It subsided, covered up by the excitement and joy from the reunion, but it was never resolved. You never expected it to come back so soon, when she was still with you, but maybe that was the problem itself.

Being with you and being yours were two entirely different things, and although having her by your side was what you craved, it was not what you wanted. The uncertainty made it hurt worse, just like it did when she was packing up her childhood bedroom with tear stained cheeks and promises of everlasting love. The uncertainty made it worse when you spent those first few days texting, hoping she would change her mind or you would find the courage to speak your truth. Uncertainty was your entire life, never changing her contact name and always hoping that every notification was a ‘hello’ or an ‘I miss you’.

Uncertainty was right now, wrapped up in her and closer than you’d been in a long time, but not knowing what it meant.

But the sounds falling from her lips, strikingly beautiful and oddly haunting made it easy to forget about it, to draw you out of the cloud of doubt and back into the moment with her.

“God, you feel so good, baby.” She said, her head turned back to catch a glimpse of your face. Her eyes were heavy, tiredness still lingering on her features, but it made her all the more beautiful. The intimacy of having her in the state, no guard up and all of the walls broken down, was almost too much for you to bear. Words were failing you, the only thoughts in your head revolving around the same, undying love for her that forever existed in your heart.

You wanted it to last forever, to hold her in your arms until you turned to dust and the wind swept you away. Even then, you would find her again, whether it be in real life or something greater. Every part of you would be tied to her forever, no matter if death tried to get in the way.

“Show me how fucking good it feels.” You growled, your voice low as you held her gaze. Neither of you dared to look away, your arm still holding her quivering leg as you felt her walls flutter around you. She craned her head backwards a little further, just enough to connect her lips with your own.

You met her action, your eyes closing as you focused on all of the sensations at once. The slow, steady pace was almost too much for you. Feeling her all at once, enjoying and appreciating every second of it, all while holding her so close to you was overwhelming in the best possible way. She felt so good, so intoxicating, just like she always had. It was a relief to know that the distance nor the time had any effect on the chemistry existing between you, even if you had both changed so much.

The kiss was sloppy, messy and needy as you tried to hold onto it. The moment was pure bliss, more euphoric than anything else you’d ever experienced. The taste of her on your tongue and the feeling of her wrapped around you was sending you spiraling, still riding the high from the previous night all while getting to experience it all over again. She was more addicting than the sting of a cigarette at the back of your throat, burning stronger in your chest than a shot of whiskey as you swallowed her down, and more thrilling than playing on a stage before thousands.

Perhaps you were so caught up on the unknown because you knew living without her had never been worth it.

She let out a moan into your mouth, letting you drink down the sound as if you were dependent upon it for survival. You slammed your hips forward, a little sharper than before, causing her to repeat the action. You were dependent upon her, not the noises or the pleasure she could grant you. You needed every little bit she could give, and you feared that not even that would suffice. She was everything you’d ever wanted, more than you ever needed, and you were desperate to hear her say that she was yours, not because of a momentary high or a surplus of emotion.

The early morning hours left your willpower greatly depleted, the sleep still weighing heavy on your shoulders and the euphoria you had endured the night before still lingering under your skin. The feeling of her, so close and so intimate, was enough to push you over the edge the minute you felt it. The taste of her on your tongue, the desperation in her movements as she strained to ensure you would not break from the kiss. The scent of her fucking perfume, suffocating you and leaving you happy to die at her hands.

It was all too much. She was too much, and you didn’t deserve a single thing she was offering.

The pleasure was coursing through your veins, depleting your previous life source and creating a new one. Your heart ached from the strength with which it was beating against your chest, your stomach twisted with desire as you held yourself back. She was quickly becoming the only thing you could think about, the only face you could see and the only voice you could hear. As much as you wanted to believe it was a good thing, you felt that same nagging, grating self-doubt as you feared the fallout.

Could you survive her walking away a second time?

The fear was pushed from your mind once again, a rush of pleasure flowing through you more intense than the last. You broke from the kiss, letting out a shaky sigh as you did your best to pull her closer to you.

“Wish I could fuck you like this all day.” You muttered, your fingers digging into the skin on her thigh even further. “Keep you like this for the rest of my life, if I could.” You watched as her hand snaked between her legs, the blankets strewn across the bed and barely covering the two of you now. Her middle finger settled over her clit, tracing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves as she held your gaze.

“Nothing stopping us, baby.” She replied, her eyes speaking louder than her words ever could. She wanted it, and she was asking you if that’s what you truly wanted, too.

You don’t know why, but your eyes fluttered away from hers, unable to withstand the emotion existing between you.

Of course you wanted it, but it was never that easy. She might want it too, but it didn’t make up for the million things that had been left unsaid. It didn’t make up for the sleepless nights and the tears shed, not the pain you endured or the sadness that still plagued you, even with her beside you.

She was asking if you wanted to love her just like that forever, but you were too much of a coward to say yes. You couldn’t handle the thought of agreeing, to telling her the truth only to have it ripped from your grasp again.

“I love you, sunshine.” You whispered, your lips finding her neck again as you held back everything you wanted to say instead. Your statement was true, you loved her deeply and more dearly than you loved anything else in your entire life, and you always would, but you couldn’t promise her forever if you did not know the tellings of her heart, too.

Enjoy the moment, worry later.

“I love you, Jake.” She whined, desperate for you to kiss her again. In an instant, at the sound of the sweet words, the turmoil disappeared, replaced with a growing sense of pride in your chest to be loved by someone so fantastic.

That was the danger of letting her in; she took the pain away with little effort, and caused a million times more when she inevitably turned and walked away.

“Cum for me, sunshine.” You pleaded, your voice hushed and your words muffled from your lips still pressed against her skin. You were eager for her to reach her climax, and worried that if she did not do so soon, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back.

You could feel how close she was, the flutter of her walls around you, pulling you in further. You could hear the desperation in her tone, her moans shaky and breathy, always a clear sign that she was close to the edge. She wanted to, she just needed a little extra encouragement.

“Come on, sweetheart. Being so good for me.” You whispered, your tongue tracing the love bites still littering her skin. She tasted sweet, lingering on your tongue like poison as you succumbed to the sickness of loving her. She continued tracing circles into her clit, pushing herself closer to the edge as she leaned her head back against you for support. You loosened your grip on her thigh, hooking your arm underneath her leg and pulling her back on you as you slammed forward into her.

The laziness in both of your actions was apparent, but it made the moment all the more addicting as you relied on each other to keep up the pace. You let your lips trail down to her shoulder, your teeth gently sinking into the flesh as you applied slight pressure, just enough for her to notice. The sensation sent her spiraling, your name falling from her lips like a hymn, praising you when she was the one who deserved the commendation.

“Fuck, baby.” She whimpered, her body trembling as the pleasure became too much to withstand. With a long slur of curses, you felt her descend into the cloud of euphoria, continuing to sing your name and only ever causing you to fall further for her.

Before the night prior, you did not think it was possible to love her any more than you already did, but she seemed determined to prove you wrong with every passing chance.

“That’s my girl.” You groaned, a pathetic little cry falling from your lips as you felt the same feeling wash over you.

You did not care if the title was fleeting, because there in that moment, she was yours, and you had to appreciate what you had rather than mourn a potential loss in the future.

You pulled her down on you, letting her completely surround you as you spilled your release into her. Her perfume hung like a haze around your head, the ends of her still curled hair tickling your skin and the warmth of her body giving you more comfort than ever before. Together, the two of you rode out the high breathless and happy just to coexist together again.

You wondered, even if this moment must come to pass, why could life not be so beautiful all of the time?

As you relaxed into the mattress, you noticed she did too, searching for the comfort she could only find in your arms. You eased your hold on her leg entirely, gently letting it fall without withdrawing from her. You snaked your arm around her torso, pulling her closer to you as you soaked up the last few minutes of intimacy the scene would allow.

“That’s a great way to start the morning, I think.” She hummed, her eyes closed as she rested her head on the pillow. She wasn’t protesting your prolonged stay in the position, because she was enjoying it just as much as you were.

“The best, actually.” You corrected, dusting a few kisses over her warm skin. It was torture loving her so completely, because no matter if she was yours forever, life would not allow you to hold her like this every minute of every day.

‘Making love with you

Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired

What more could I ask

There’s nothing left to be desired

Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak

So sleep, silent angel

Go to sleep.’

“This feels the same as it did before.” She whispered, her tone low and slow like she was fighting a slumber with all of her energy. She didn’t want to succumb to sleep, terrified of missing out on a single second of your company. “I thought… I thought it would be different, I guess. That because we’re different, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. I was worried that we would wake up and realize it wasn’t real, that we only felt this way because we never had enough closure to move on.” She was strung out from the pleasure, still riding an emotional high as she confessed to her own fears.

“It’s always been real, sunshine.” You assured her, tracing shapes into her skin as you held her. “Always wanted to be with you.” You muttered, slightly ashamed of the undying love you always carried for her. You were tired too, your eyes heavy as the world continued to wake. Sleeping away the day with her by your side was tempting, and you would have fallen victim to the peacefulness of her presence if you were less stubborn.

“I guess there’s just so much… shit we never talked about.” She trailed off, losing her confidence the longer she thought about it. “From back then and now.” She wanted to talk too, wallowing in confusion and self doubt just as heavily as you were and nearly drowning in the sorrow that still surrounded her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, hoping that she did so you could air out your own relentless thoughts.

“Yeah, I do.” Her tone was near solemn, the sound making your stomach sink and regret begin to form. If she didn’t want the same thing, would you spend the rest of your life regretting asking the damned question?

“Okay.” Your voice was soft as you bargained with the anxiety beginning to take over. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad—maybe she was afraid of all the same things and desperate to hear you assure her otherwise.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up, okay?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. The breath was knocked from your lungs at the sight of her sleepy eyes and blushed cheeks, making you wonder if you would see it again in the morning, or waste your day trying to forget about it.

“Okay.” You repeated your earlier words, finding that the easiest thing to say when dread was crushing you. Then, she leaned back a little further, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. Your fingers tightened on her, the action alone prompting a sudden wave of relief that seemed to cure all of your earlier ailments. When she pulled away, the smile turning the corners of your lips helped you to relax, forcing you to believe that the conversation wouldn’t be nearly as bad as you thought it would be.

Carefully, she climbed from the bed and quickly disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as your heart continued to speed against your chest. The ghost of her kiss still lingered on your lips, the feeling electrifying as you desperately tried to find some common sense and calm yourself. You reached for your phone on the nightstand beside the bed, tapping the screen to catch a glimpse of the time. It was nearing the afternoon, the entire morning spent in a bubble of love and joy that nothing could penetrate. You didn’t care about the time wasted laying in bed, because when you were beside her, no time felt wasted.

You ignored the plethora of notifications sitting below the time, tossing it back down on the mattress just as the bathroom door creaked open. You shot a smile in her direction as she approached the bed, taking an extra second to admire the entire picture before you. Her cheeks darkened as she realized what you were doing, and instead of taunting her for her embarrassment, you climbed out of bed and landed a gentle smack on her ass as you passed her by. Light, playful, confident. The more normal you made this seem, the more likely she would be to go into the conversation with a clear head and an open mind.

“My turn. Be right back.” You looked back over your shoulder, watching her pull your shirt over her arms from the night prior, buttoning a few buttons to keep it closed.

That was a good sign, right? Wearing your clothes, climbing back into your hotel bed, a smile on her face and joy still shining in her eyes. She wanted to make it work, just like you did. She loved you, still after all this time. It had to be a good sign.

Right?

Her POV

You watched as he walked around the corner, holding your breath as the bathroom door fell shut behind him. You felt like your head was going to explode, your entire body vibrating with nerves as you climbed under the still warm blankets. You had no idea what you were doing, no idea where the conversation would lead you, but for the first time in six years, you felt happy. Pure, uninhibited joy that could not even be overshadowed by your own dramatics. You wanted him—you never stopped wanting him, and you were going to tell him. You were going to tell him how sorry you were, how terrible it was to be without him, and hope so desperately and deeply that he would be willing to give you a second chance.

He wanted it too, right?

Right?

He was so loving, so attentive and kind as he planned such a thoughtful date, down to every last detail. He had to want it too, and for once you didn’t think you made it up in your own head, that the hope was correct rather than misplaced this time. He had to want it too, because you couldn’t bear the thought of him rejecting your apologies and sending you away.

He was withdrawn during sex, and it didn’t take long to notice. You knew him better than you knew yourself, even if you’d spent so much time apart. What was he thinking about? Was he not enjoying himself? Was he regretting it?

You were working yourself up, your heart aching and your stomach sick as you thought of all the possibilities of what could happen next. You were trembling, vibrating with anxieties. The feeling was grating, irritating as it—no, it wasn’t you.

It was his damned phone beside you in the bed, vibrating nonstop with incoming messages, so constant and steady that you had convinced yourself it was something else.

What the fuck—who the fuck was blowing up his phone?

It wasn’t your business. You knew that, and you tried to distract yourself so you could ignore the temptation. If he had something to hide, he never would have shared his screen on the FaceTime calls, nor would he have left his phone sitting so openly and invitingly on the bed for you to see.

But who the hell was messaging him? Who needed to get through to him so imminently on his days off?

Just a peek, you bargained. Just to assure yourself it was Josh being his normally overbearing and invasive self.

Just a peek.

What could it hurt, right?

Right?

You reached over, slowly grabbing his phone and bringing it closer to your face. You tapped the screen, immediately noticing the surplus of notifications. It wasn’t just from one person, but rather a flood of emails and texts combined. A momentary sense of relief washed over you, but you couldn’t pry yourself away even with the reassurance it wasn’t a secret girlfriend. Instead, your eyes scanned the words that you could read, seeing a lot of rescheduled meetings and chains from what looked to be labels and managers.

Wait, rescheduled?

You looked a little further, your stomach dropping when you gathered the main idea from the surplus of messages.

He had moved his entire life around, canceling meetings and rescheduling interviews that were supposed to be done today, yesterday, and the day before that.

He put his entire life on pause for you.

What should have been a sweet realization was instead evil, ugly, and cruel.

Six years later, you were doing the exact thing you were trying to avoid when you left in the first place. You were standing in the way of his career, and he was doing what he always had; putting you before everything else, no matter the consequences. Putting you before himself, before his dreams.

You left to ensure he wouldn’t do that, but you couldn’t stay away and ended up forcing his hand anyway. It was only a few meetings, an interview, but you knew him well and you knew it wouldn’t stop there. With you permanently in Michigan and him halfway across the world, he would only try harder to see you, and it would only get worse from here.

You couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t be the very thing that stood in the way of him and his entire life. You wished you found texts from another girl, from a girlfriend or a wife so you could be angry and upset with him for doing such a thing, but that wasn’t who he was, and it never would be. Jake would never let you down, and would do anything he could to make you happy. In doing so, he would sacrifice his own wants and needs, and you couldn’t be responsible for him disregarding everything he’d worked for his entire life.

God, he made it so unbelievably hard to stay out of love with him, even if you knew it was for the best.

Just as you were about to put the phone down, to bargain with your foggy mind and hurting heart, another chain of texts pulled your attention back in.

Amelie - 11:48am

Here’s that sneak peek you asked for. Saving the best for when you get back, so don’t even bother. 😉

*Attachment: 4 images*

“God, what the fuck does that mean?” You whispered to yourself, tossing the phone back on the mattress without even looking at the preview of the pictures as you tried to swallow back the panic you were feeling. It seemed like the world was mocking you for believing the two of you could be together, mocking you for believing that you could have someone as perfect as him.

Who was she, and what did she mean she was saving the best for when he got back? Why had he never mentioned her? Was she a girl he was trying to keep secret? She was close enough to him to have his phone number, comfortable enough to text him on his days off, and cheeky enough to send a winking emoji of follow. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew you didn’t like it.

Your mind was a mess, your chest aching and your head spinning. The message in itself wasn’t exactly incriminating, but you were so caught up in your own emotions from earlier that you wanted to believe it was, so your justification for running wasn’t because he loved you too much. You were jumping to conclusions, desperately grasping at strings to pull together an excuse to leave, but it had nothing to do with him rescheduling his meetings and the oddly worded message from the mysterious ‘Amelie’ (who sounded like a woman you could not even begin to compete with). It had everything to do with your own fear and your inability to see the brighter side of things.

You were doing everything you could to avoid getting hurt, and right now, you were already hurting. Instead of owning up to it and getting to the bottom of it with him by your side, you began to shut out the possibility of loving him in hopes of stopping the hurt before it grew any larger.

Caught up in a whirlwind of grief and a surplus of love, you did not even have time to straighten our separate the two before Jake stepped out of the bathroom, naked and beautiful as ever as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from his suitcase. He slipped them on, his eyes trailing to you, expecting to see the smile he’d left on your lips when he walked away. Instead, he was met with an expression that told him nothing good, his palms breaking into a sweat and his stomach tied in knots as he tried to decipher the look in your eyes.

He had seen the look once before, and he spent the equivalent to a hundred lifetimes trying to rid the memory from his brain. He was praying it was different this time, that he had it completely misunderstood.

“Sunshine,” he warned, cautiously approaching the bed as he tried to defuse the bomb he knew was waiting to explode.

Afraid.

That was the only thing you were, feeling it so violently and aggressively as you shied away from his outstretched arms, silently pleading with you to reconsider. You were afraid of being hurt, afraid of hurting him, afraid of holding him back and standing in his way. You were terrified of everything, and most of all, unable to comprehend how dearly you loved him. You longed to be a teacher, spent years with your nose buried in a book and working so hard to get a degree so you could help someone else understand better. Not knowing was hard, and not understanding something was your biggest downfall, because you had made a life out of facts and working constantly to make sense of challenging things.

This didn’t make sense, and you couldn’t make it appear clearer. The longer you thought about it, the more confused you became, and it was killing you.

You pulled your legs to your chest, feeling tears shine in your eyes as you looked over his face. He was so beautiful, so perfect and so kind, which is why you had to walk away. He was too good, and you weren’t ever going to be enough. Back then, when you went your separate ways the first time, he took the sacrifice of losing you so you could follow your dreams. You were moving too fast, chasing after a life you couldn’t find in Michigan, and he stepped away to allow you to take the leap without worrying about him.

His actions were valiant, completely selfless and done in an attempt to ensure your happiness, and done without a single care about himself or his own breaking heart.

You had to do the same for him. You couldn’t hold him back or drag him down—he deserved someone in control of their life, certain and calculated with every move they made, stable and fun loving with a carefree spirit, and that would never be you.

Maybe someday, but certainly not now.

“Don’t do this. Not yet.” He sat on the edge of the bed, knowing what you were thinking before you said a word. “Let’s talk about it, please. We have to talk about it.” He was right, but you didn’t want to. The longer you talked about it, the worse it felt. You didn’t talk to him last time because it hurt too bad, and right now as you stared at him, facing the same situation as you did when you were eighteen, you understood that leaving Jake would always be the hardest thing you could ever do.

“This was a mistake, Jake.” You blurted out, immediately realizing the extent of your words when a pained expression crossed his beautiful face. You never wanted to be the reason behind his pain, and in that moment, you knew you were causing all of it.

“A mistake, huh?” He raised his hand to his face, his thumb and forefinger closing around his cheeks as his palm pressed against his chin. Deep in thought and clearly bothered by your choice of words, he could no longer look you in the eyes. “You said you loved me.” There was a slight snide drawl in his words, like he was fighting every part of himself so he would not respond with the hurt he was feeling.

“No, Jake, that’s not—“ you cut yourself off, feeling your chest tighten with panic as you raised your hand to his arm. The gentle touch pulled him out of his internal brooding for long enough to look back in your direction, to see how much hurt you were suffering from too. “You are not a mistake. Loving you is not a mistake, and I do. I love you so much that it hurts, and I could never feel this way about anyone else. I don’t want to love anyone else, Jake.”

“Then what is it?” He asked, reaching out and cupping your cheek in his palm. His stare was overwhelming, so much emotion in his gaze that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. “If you love me, and you don’t want to love anyone else, why are you trying to leave?”

“I just…” you started, losing your composure as the million reasons flooded your mind. Your voice cracked, your eyes falling to the pristine threads on the comforter as they welled with tears. “Six years, and nothing changed. We’re still in the same situation, trying to love each other and knowing it won’t work.”

“Who’s saying it won’t work, sunshine? I would do anything to make it work—“

“That’s the problem, Jake!” You cut him off, closing your eyes tightly to stop the tears from falling. “Anything. You would do anything, even if it meant throwing the rest of your life away!”

“What? What does that even mean?” He argued, his temper growing as you continued to raise your voice at him.

“Did you really have all this time off, with nothing to do? No meetings, no interviews, nothing to attend to?” You asked, watching his face as his expression faltered ever so slightly. It was barely noticeable, but it answered your question without him having to say a word. “You moved your entire life around just to come and take me to dinner, Jake. Without a promise of anything, without even knowing if I would say yes. If we keep this up, I can’t help but feel like I’m going to get in the way of everything you worked so hard for.”

“You’re not getting in the way of anything, sunshine. I chose to do that. I wanted to do it.” He tried to get you to see his point, to get you to understand that it wasn’t you forcing his hand on the matter.

“That’s the problem, bug.” Your cheeks were damp as you drowned in your own sorrow. “You would give up everything, just like you would have back then. That’s why I had to go. I had to leave so you wouldn’t waste your life chasing after me. Look at what you’ve accomplished since I left. Look at the life you built, all on your own.” You pleaded with him, begging him to see reason. “I’m going to take away from that, distract you from the only thing you’ve ever wanted. I can’t be responsible for that.”

“It’s not the only thing I’ve ever wanted!” He snapped, stronger than he intended to. Still, he continued on, desperate to be heard after six years of silence. “You are the only thing I’ve ever wanted. You are the only thing that’s ever mattered. You sat and listened to me talk about this life, encouraging me to chase after it, made me believe I could do it. It means fuckin’ nothing without you there beside me.”

“Jake, listen to yourself.” You cried, your head pounding and your chest tight as you tried to draw in a shaky breath. “You stepped back, you took that burden when I left and tried to make a name for myself. You didn’t want to stand in my way, and now you have to let me do it for you. I’m the one stuck in Michigan, not knowing what I’m doing or where I’m going. It won’t work, and you know it.”

“Don’t use that against me, Y/N.” The lack of a nickname was like a stab straight to the stomach, making you understand that this was more serious than it was when you were kids, because you were still hurting from it. It was all coming out at once, the fear and the anger and the regret. It was mixing together with your current situation, making for a deadly conversation that the two of you would carry with you for the rest of your lives. “Don’t use that as an excuse to leave now, because it’s the stupidest thing I have ever done. I’ve spent six years regretting it, Y/N. Do not make it seem like it was some courageous sacrifice—it was stupid and wrong, because I was afraid and I was hurt.”

“Jake—“

“No.” He cut you off, calm and collected with a grievous look in his eye. “I let you leave. I didn’t fight for you. I was eighteen and stupid, and I thought it was for the best at the time, and I know now that it was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I am not letting you leave without fighting for you, Y/N. I’m not losing you again. I waited this long to get you back. This can’t be it. I won’t let this be it.”

“You think I don’t regret it?” You exploded, overwhelmed with the memory of the last time you saw him. “You think I enjoyed driving away, watching you sit at the end of my driveway waving goodbye with tears in your eyes? I didn’t want to, Jake. I hated it, and I hated myself for it. I cried that whole fucking drive, and then three days later I had to tell you to stop texting me because it only ever made it harder to move on. Guess it never would have mattered, because I never did, anyway! Six years later I sat in that bedroom, sorting through that box that held memories from the best three years of my entire life, and I had to swallow the fact that it will always be you, even if I don’t want it to be!” A grimace crossed his face, his heart aching at the harshness of your words.

“I hated looking for you in every man I’ve ever met, wondering if they could even come close to the boy I left at home. I hated staying up at night, listening to the same eight songs and wondering why we couldn’t be the ones who ended up together. I hated coming home and back to that house, just to realize that you were the only thing that made it feel like home in the first place! You weren’t here Jake, you moved to Nashville and you were traveling Europe, touring the world and playing music for thousands of people. You made it without me, and I drowned without you. I ended up here, back in the house I swore I’d never live in again in a town that’s missing the only good thing it ever had. You made it, Jake. You did it, and I will not drag you down again. I love you too much to hold you back. You have to let me do this for you, because you’ve done everything for me!” You finished your rant, barely able to see straight from the tears blurring your vision. Your throat was raw, your voice shaking as you tried your hardest to keep it together for long enough to make him understand.

“Sunshine,” he took your face between his hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs. “This isn’t doing anything for me. You leaving isn’t helping me, and staying won’t hurt me. Loving you is the only thing that I know how to do, and the only thing that I need. You give me everything just by being here.”

“Baby, please.” You closed your eyes, the pain in your chest only worsening as you stared at him.

“No, Sunshine.” He shook his head, holding your face tightly so you couldn’t look away. “Please, don’t do this. I just got you back.”

“Jake, I can’t.”

“That’s it?” He asked, his voice cracking as tears filled his own eyes. “It’s over? We’re done, just like that?” He tried to blink away the pain, but it only worsened his feelings on the matter. “After everything we talked about over the last few weeks? After everything we said last night? That’s it?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head against his hold. “I guess so? I don’t know, Jake! I don’t know what to do or how to make it better. I'm trying to do the right thing. This happened so fast, and I didn’t have any time to think about it, but now that I have, we both know it won’t work! You’re going back to Nashville and I’m stuck here. You’re going to travel the world and meet so many people, ones that are way better than me and have so much more to offer. I'm going to tie you down and hold you back, and you’re going to realize it too, and I can’t get hurt like that. Not again.” You bit down on your lip to stifle the sobs begging to escape.

“You don’t get it, sunshine. There is nobody else; only you, and it’s always been that way.” There was a quiver in his voice, his cheeks wet with his own tears and he pleaded with you to see reason.

“I have to, Jake. I don’t even know if this is where I’ll stay. I could be halfway across the country again by this time next year. I don’t know, and I can’t force you to change everything because I’m still a mess.”

“I want to, sunshine. I love you.” He whispered, breaking under the weight of his grief. You shook your head again, too overcome with emotion to speak but still as stubborn as you’d always been. “I can’t lose you again.”

“Just not right now Jake. I’m not saying never, but not now.”

The words were worse than a slap in the face, making him choke on the fact that you would never be his, but he would always be stuck on your hook with nowhere else to go.

“So what, friends?” He scoffed at the word as if it were ridiculous, scowling as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Yes.” You whispered, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. “I want you in my life Jake. I always have. It’s horrible without you here, but the time still isn’t right. I need to get my life figured out. Give me some time to be what you deserve.” He watched you, his eyes casted down upon your saddened face as he digested the words he never wanted to hear again.

How, after so long and so much suffering, could the time still not be right? How could you still not see it?

But, he loved you, and in that moment it seemed like the worst curse of all. He was willing to do whatever would make you happy, even if it meant agreeing to something that would be equal to torture.

“Fine, sunshine.” He breathed, unable to resist you with you so close to him. He could never say no to you, anyway, no matter the distance. “If that’s what you think is right, I’ll be your friend, but I’ll never stop telling you how wrong I think it is.” A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pain begging to kill you.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You joked, tears still free falling as you breathed him in for what might be the very last time.

“I’m going to suck at being your friend.” He warned, still holding you close while he still could. “I’m never going to stop loving you.”

“I’m not going to stop, either.” You promised.

“Which is why this whole thing is stupid.” He tried again, desperate for you to understand.

“You’ll understand, bug. Maybe not right now, but you will. I promise.” You whispered, fighting every urge to kiss him.

“If you say so, sunshine.” He muttered, too far gone within his misery to worry about hiding it anymore. “Can I kiss you, one last time?”

“I might not be able to stop.” You confessed, feeling the gravitational pull forcing you towards him, the universe doing everything it could to force you into his arms forever.

“Could think of worse things.” He hummed, his hand sliding backwards as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Me too, bug.” You whispered, closing your eyes and leaning forward.

You closed the gap between you, the kiss soft and sweet, the saltiness of your tears lingering on your lips as you did all you could to savor the moment with him. He dropped one hand to your waist, pulling you forward and into his lap without parting from you. You accepted the new position, melting into his arms and letting your guard down one last time. The warmth of his body surrounded you, and you wondered how you could ever give up the feeling of peace that came with his company. He felt like home, more comforting and inviting than anything else in the entire world, and you wished you could hold onto it forever.

Eventually, you broke free from the kiss, but made no move to leave. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder as another, more aggressive wave of sobs racked your body. The smell of his cologne surrounded you, his gentle hold comforting despite knowing it would be the last time you had him in such a way. He always made everything feel better, even if the hurt came from the love he gave in the first place. He held you tightly, his strong arms making it harder to convince yourself to leave. You calmed down enough to rest comfortably with him, only the occasional tear leaking from your eye as he rocked you gently to calm your mind. Then, so softly and so quietly, you heard the soft melody that tore your heart in two all over again.

He was humming, not singing, but carrying the tune enough that you would notice and understand why he was doing it.

There were no lyrics, but you could hear them clearly in your head as you clung to him and wondered why you would ever even think about letting him go.

‘Peace came upon me

And it leaves me weak

So sleep, silent angel

Go to sleep

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe

And to love you

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe

And to love you

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe

And to love you.’

His shoulders shook as he tried his hardest to keep the tune, tears falling down his face as he did his best not to imagine you walking out the door. You felt ridiculous, completely idiotic as you cried and listened to him, wondering how the hell you were in the same position now as you were when you were eighteen. Back then, he put the song on the mixtape to tell you how dearly he loved you, so you could hear it from someone else’s tongue instead of his own. Now, he reinvented the song with a heart just as heavy, hoping it was enough to make you stay this time.

There was no need to retell the story, to recount all of the mistakes you made that led you to the fourth song so long ago, because you had done it just the same that day. You woke up that morning with love delicately intertwined in every aspect of your life, happiest with him by your side, and you would leave him behind with the same love in your heart, just the same as you did six years ago.

When you were eighteen, he loved you. He sat before you at twenty-five, still as desperate to show you how strongly he felt, but you still weren’t ready to receive it. You loved him the same, but you were too foolish to accept it and too fearful of enduring the same hurt. Instead, you convinced yourself that it was for the best to walk away, that the pain now would spare you from worse in the future, even if it wasn’t true.

No matter the time in between the two stupidest versions of yourself, one thing remained true even after all of the pain and all of the years; you loved him the same, just as unapologetically, completely and as wholly as he loved you.

All you needed was the air that you breathed and to love him. Sometimes, you didn’t even need the air and could survive solely off the latter. You spent all your life searching for him, wandering aimlessly while he was gone and wondering when he would come back, just to find the quickest way to throw the opportunity in the garbage as soon as it presented itself to you.

Why were you so eager to walk away when you had been awaiting the day he would return?

Why were you so keen to suffer when he was right in front of you, promising to make it all better?

Worst of all, why, if it was supposed to be the right thing to do, did it hurt so fucking bad?

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness

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i-write-sometimes-maybe · 1 year

Text

Show Me Off- Lady Lesso x EverTeacherReader!

Synopsis: You just wanted to dance.

Warnings: Angst but I make it better, whore is used but not in a good way, nothing really too bad. But lmk if I missed any!

Word Count: 3k

A/n: I LOVE THE NICKNAME I PUT IN THIS SO PLEASE ENJOY. okay I really wanted to get something else out for you guys, and I wanted it to be smut but I don’t have the motivation for smut unfortunately 😩. But I hope you guys enjoy this one! Reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

You were making your finishing touches on your gown in the mirror, making sure every detail was perfect and every thread was in the right place.

You were so focused on the task at hand that you didn't even notice Lesso watching you, admiring you in the mirror. She adored you, and you looked stunning in the dress you chose.

She came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist, "You look ravishing tonight, darling." She planted a kiss on your neck.

You turned in her arms, it was your turn to admire her. The fitted suit she chose was one of your favorites, the all-black three-piece suit looked so good on her.

"Thank you, love. You look as exquisite as ever." You gave her a quick peck on the lips, to not ruin your lipstick or transfer it to her.

"Are you nearly ready? We don't want to be late, we are chaperones after all." Though she was a little bit excited for this ball, well, excited to go with you, she still hated the objective of being a chaperone.

"I'm ready, there's nothing else I need but you." She smiled and placed another kiss on your lips.

You wrapped your hands around her arm as you left her quarters towards the event, you could barely contain your excitement. You thought that this was finally your time to show her off, to finally say that you're with the one and only Dean of Evil.

But you had thought wrong.

You could hear the start of the orchestra as you turned down the ballroom corridor when Lesso shrugged you off her. Confusion instantly overtook you.

"What-" Your confusion increased tenfold when her steps increased in pace. "What are you doing?"

Lesso turned back with a look that said it was clearly obvious, "You know we can't be seen that closely." The way she said that so nonchalantly brought you many feelings, and none of them were good.

"But I thought," Tears begin filling your eyes, but you can't cry. You can't ruin your makeup, so you shook your head to shun them away. "I thought tonight was when we could finally come clean and be seen together in public." It came out much more questioning than you intended.

"Please, you know it's strictly forbidden for us to be close in public." She turned back around and continued on.

There's no way that this was that easy for her. That she can say that and not feel even the slightest tinge of guilt.

"Fine." Strictly forbidden, what foolishness. She acts as if she's not the one to create these rules.

Your heart felt heavy and your bottom lip quivered slightly, knowing you'd have to enter the ballroom alone. You didn't even want to be there anymore, not after that. You contemplated turning back to your quarters for a solid minute.

But you had already put so much time into your look, plus you were expected to be a chaperone.

So, after watching your love walk away from you, she didn't even wait for you to be a little bit behind her. You continued on with your soul weighing on you like stone.

You just couldn't understand it, the way her demeanor entirely flipped threw you off. You wrapped your arms around you to ease the coldness you suddenly felt.

As you entered the elegantly decorated ballroom, themed perfectly for the celebration of the summer solstice, the doing of Dovey no doubt, you couldn't help but look around.

Each of the decorations were catching your eye, especially the colorful flowers she has expertly spaced around the room. But something dark caught your eye, like it did every time.

Lesso was standing off in the corner, her soft features nowhere to be found, with a drink in hand. You desperately wanted to walk over to her and have her wrap her arms around you or pull you on the dance floor, but you couldn't.

Lesso had finally spotted you, sending you a smile that only you would ever be able to detect. Lesso became confused herself when you didn't even attempt to return the smile, your smile was one of her favorite things.

You looked away from her and continued on, your arms falling to your side as you made your way to Professor Dovey and Professor Anemone. If she was going to barricade herself in her Never space, then you're left to be in your Ever space.

Right away, Anemone could tell something was off with you. She was your greatest friend, so of course she could clearly tell that there was something wrong when your excitement was nowhere to be found, especially when you've been excited for this ball for weeks.

"Dear, what's the matter?" She placed her hand on your elbow as she guided you away from Dovey.

"Nothing," You attempted to pass off the lie while trying so hard to not glance in Lesso's direction. "Everything is alright."

"Okay, well, I know that's not true so let's try that one more time." Yeah, she knew you well.

Everything about you deflated, your smile and posture but especially your tone, "I don't really wanna talk about it, okay? So, can we drop it and focus on the kids?" Whatever was bothering you was bad enough that you didn't open up about it, so she knew it wasn't good.

"Would you like to dance? I know I'm not your 'secret girlfriend' but maybe it'll cheer you up?" It was a lie, she knew who your secret girlfriend was.

She wasn't thick, after all, and once that sentence escaped her she realized what was going on. Anemone saw how you hadn't even looked at Lesso yet so she knew that must be at least a part of the reason.

A small smile came to your face, "Sure, why not." You said as you grabbed onto her now extended hand.

The timing couldn't have been more right as a new song had just begun when you both made it to the center of the ballroom.

All the students cleared some space as they saw you two coming. You ignored the feeling of all the eyes on you as you began dancing with her, and you could tell that there wasn't one person not watching.

You focused on each of the movements and the sound of each instrument as you both gracefully moved across the room. Both of your semi-puffy dresses move elegantly with you. The breeze increased as you both twirled and spun around the ballroom floor.

As the song came to an end, another one was soon to play, and you slowed to a small shuffle. You rested your face on her shoulder, facing away from her but in a way to speak so only she could hear, "Thank you for this, Emma."

Just as you finished your sentence and before Emma even had a chance to respond, an exasperated-looking Lesso came storming towards you both.

She didn't slow but she grabbed your arm and pulled you from Anemone in a swift move, causing you to move with her.

Lesso kept moving, walking you towards the terrace, "What are you doing?!" You tried pulling your arm from her, but you didn't try hard enough.

"I don't appreciate you being all over Emma, acting like some common whore."

You instantly stopped moving once you heard her words and crossed onto the outside terrace, a scoff escaped you, one of disbelief and disrespect, and you ripped your arm back, "I beg your pardon?!"

"There's no need for you to be all over that woman when you're simply dancing with her." She crossed her arms.

She really doesn't get it, does she?

"Emma is my friend! And we were only dancing! Where'd you get the audacity-" Your sadness began to shift to anger.

She cut you off, "Oh, please! You-"

You cut her off this time, not willing to feed her delusion, "If the image of me dancing with another is so unbearable, then you gain the courage to do so instead!"

"You know we can't do that!"

"No, we can! You just don't want to! Your reputation is far more important to you than I!"

Lesso couldn't believe a statement like that came from you, sure that kind of thing would've been expected by anyone else once they heard she was in a relationship, but not you, "That is not true."

"Really? Because, I have yet to see anything that suggests otherwise," Your tears returned. "You- you. You play into my desire of finally being able to be seen with you, only for you to tear it apart and quite literally throw me aside. Just so you can keep your spotless Never appearance." The tears finally escaped, falling effortlessly down your face and effectively ruining your makeup.

"That's, not what I meant to do," Lesso hasn't realized how much she had fucked up until this moment.

A humorless scoff came from you once more, "That's all you have to say for yourself? Not even an apology? Wow." You started turning back into the ballroom.

She stopped you with a hand on your arm, "No, darling, wait!"

You stopped, but not in the way she hoped, "No! You simply can't fix this with an 'I'm sorry', okay? Figure this out on your own." You pulled your arm back again and continued onto the ballroom.

You entered again but had no intentions of staying.

Everyone kind of paused when they saw you re-enter with tears streaming down your face, a stunned Lesso standing in her spot on the Terrace. Of course, they had all witnessed her pulling you away and watched on curiously, but they hadn't expected you to return in tears. Especially Anemone and Dovey, the two being the most stunned as their eyes followed you out of the ballroom and then redirected to Lesso.

Lesso was used to having all eyes on her, but not like this. As she walked back to the corner she was previously perched in, everyone eyed her down. It only lasted a second before she made it clear that she was still the Dean of Evil, and everyone realized that now may not be a good time to piss her off.

Dovey gave her a pointed look, one that clearly says there will be a discussion about what occurred, but Lesso couldn't bring herself to care. Not when she was too preoccupied with wondering how and what you were doing.

The answer? Not good and currently staring at the wall with dried tears on your face.

You knew you shouldn't be reacting in such a way, but you also couldn't help it. The way Leo just threw you off her and walked away without as much as looking at you, how she called you a whore for dancing with your friend. The worst part was this was entirely avoidable.

You didn't want to dance with Emma, you wanted to dance with her. You didn't want to be in the middle of the room with all eyes on you, you wanted to be in the privacy of her quarters while laying in her arms.

Eventually, after who knows how long, you got tired of sulking. You brought yourself to get changed into your pajamas and wash your face from your mess of what was once makeup. You just wanted this day to be over with.

Time crept on for the both of you, you thought sleep may help and attempted it, but failed. And Lesso tried slipping out the side of the ballroom but got caught by various people.

For every toss and turn you made in your bed, was one meter closer Lesso got to the door. She was getting close to hexing the entire ballroom before she just started shoving people out of her way with her cane to leave.

Lesso had no idea how it got so out of hand. Of course, she didn't realize just how much she was hurting you by keeping the both of you a secret, though it wasn't much of a secret. Not after tonight at least.

She continued on to your quarters, she knew you'd be nowhere else. The only annoying part about that is your quarters are on the opposite end of the school than hers is, so she had a whole journey to herself. One that allowed to realize just what she's done.

By this time, you had already shoved your face into the pillow from frustration. It was undoubtedly due to many things but you liked to blame it only on your difficulty sleeping.

Just as you sat up to get a glass of water, there was a knock at your door. You didn't have to open it to know who was standing on the other side, the pattern of the sound telling you exactly who it was.

A part of you was thrilled that she came back, back to you. But the other part wanted her to stay away.

"Go away." You spoke out, not making any attempts to move in any way.

"Starlight, it's me." You nearly burst into tears at the nickname.

She thought it fit you perfectly, not only because of your love for the stars and all things space, but because your Leo always said, 'Your eyes sparkle more than the stars, my little Starlight.'

"I know it is." Your heart kept screaming at you to at least see her.

"I came to apologize. I understand you're upset with me, and you don't have to forgive me, but can I at least look at you when I do?" For the first time tonight, you heard genuine emotion from her.

You couldn't hold back anymore, your heart won out. What an Ever thing to do.

You stayed silent as you walked to your door and opened it. The once put-together Dean was now standing in front of you, hair disheveled and emotions coating her face.

Lesso was taken aback by your appearance, not that it was bad, just not what she was expecting. She thought you'd still be all dressed up, not ready for bed with a tear-stained face. She messed up big time.

"Well?" Your voice snapped her back into the situation.

"Star, I'm sorry. I really am," She snuck past you and into your quarters, and if you had any energy, you would've attempted to stop her. "You were right about me wanting to maintain my reputation, but you were wrong that it's more important than you." You silently shut your door and turned to meet her in the middle of your room.

And for a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the looks being shared. You just looked at her, feeling many things.

She placed her hand on your cheek as your lip quivered, "My beautiful Starlight," Her thumb started brushing against your cheek. "I am sorry."

Your heart screamed for you to forgive her, but your mind told you to say what you want to say. And you decided on that.

"I guess you don't get it then?" She gave you a questioning look. "The way you just toss me aside made me feel utterly useless. And then, you call me a whore and you expect me to just pass over that? I get you're sorry, and you should be, but I'm not going to forgive you just because you say that."

Oh.

You can tell by the look on her face, she finally gets it.

"My darling girl, words can't even begin to explain how sorry I am. I fucked up, I know. I want to take it back but I can't. But what I can do is, from now on no more hiding. No more sneaking or lies. I'm done with that."

Your eyes filled with hope, "You promise?"

"I promise you, darling. From this moment on, no more hiding. Just us against the world, together." She pushed some of your hair back behind your ear.

A small smile came to your face, "Thank you, and I'm sorry I reacted so strongly. I was just really looking forward to tonight."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Star. You were simply reacting. What were you looking forward to, darling? Chaperoning?" Lesso knew you liked your job, but she didn't think you liked it that much.

"No, I, I just wanted to dance with you." The way that sentence escaped your lips, so soft and broken, made Lesso's heart lurch, she couldn't believe it.

She made her beautiful and fragile flower wilt, and she knew it was all because of her.

She reached her hand out towards you, and you looked at it curiously before looking back at her, "What-"

She didn't let you finish, "Let's dance, Starlight."

"But I'm not-"

"Right here, right now, just us. No need for fancy clothes or anyone watching."

The sweet, soft, and warm smile that Lesso has come to know and love, finally came to your face. The very one she's been wanting to see all night.

You finally accepted her hand, and when you did she stepped closer to you and placed her other hand on your waist.

You followed each step she made, soft grins spread across both of your faces as you easily moved around your quarters.

"There's no music," You pointed out.

"That is true. But who said you must have music to dance?" She rhetorically asked as she pulled your arm above your head and began to spin you.

The silence that filled the space was a comfortable one. Once you came back around again, you looked between her eyes. It was plain as day, the admiration she had for you. Whether you saw it or not was entirely different.

"Thank you for this, Leo." You moved to rest your head on her shoulder, your steps never ceasing, with your face nuzzled into her neck.

"Anything for my Starlight."

This. This is all you wanted.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing @scream-queenlover @hxzxrdous (I think that’s all of you lovelies).

#charlize theron #lady lesso #lady leonora lesso #fanfic #sapphic #oneshot #angst with a happy ending #sge fanfiction #sge movie #sfgae #sfge #school for good and evil #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x reader #soft lady lesso #leonora lesso #lesso x reader #kinda reader x Emma

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