Tumgik
#when i wasn’t even really looking to watch anything you know?
harrysfolklore · 2 days
Note
can we have a little honorary wag blurb where she’s freaking out about meeting charles’s entire friend group but when she does , she gets along with them really well and baby chiara ADORES her 🥹
thank you for sending this request, i really missed writing about these babiesss 🥺🥺 i hope you like thisss
READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE
A few weeks had passed since Kika and Pierre’s wedding, and life had settled into a pleasant routine for you and Charles. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you were sprawled on the couch in Charles’ living room, a cozy blanket wrapped around you as you watched TV.
Charles was in the kitchen, making coffee. You could hear him humming to himself, a soft, contented sound that made you smile. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, but you were finally finding your rhythm together, and it felt perfect.
Being his girlfriend felt perfect.
“Do you want anything with your coffee, mon coeur?” Charles called out, his voice carrying into the living room.
“Just some cookies, if we have any,” you replied, stretching out and snuggling deeper into the blanket.
Charles appeared a few minutes later, balancing two mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies. He handed you your mug and placed the plate on the coffee table before sitting down beside you.
“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the coffee. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.
Charles smiled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “I could get used to this,” he said, his voice soft and full of warmth.
You leaned into him, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It’s nice to have some time to just relax and be together.”
He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “So, I've bee thinking."
You turned to look at him, curiosity piqued by his tone. "Oh? About what?"
Charles took a sip of his coffee before continuing, "Well, we've been together for almost a month now, and things have been going really well…"
"They have," you agreed, smiling up at him.
"And I was thinking," he continued, his fingers absently playing with a strand of your hair, "maybe it's time for you to meet my friends. My whole friend group, I mean."
You felt a small flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You'd met some of Charles' friends in passing, of course, but the idea of meeting his entire friend group felt significant.
"Your whole friend group?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice casual.
Charles nodded, his eyes searching your face. "Yeah. Joris, who you've already met a few times, Riccardo and Marta, and a few others. They're really important to me, and… well, you're really important to me too. I'd love for you all to get to know each other better."
You almost melted at his words, his green eyes looking at you with a tenderness that made you regret not looking at them for so long.
It wasn’t just the idea of meeting his friends—it was the way he phrased it, making you feel special, like you were becoming an integral part of his life. But at the same time, your nerves fluttered in your stomach.
“Charles, that sounds… great,” you said, trying to sound confident, but the slight edge in your voice gave you away.
He narrowed his eyes at you, gently setting his coffee cup down on the table. “But?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little nervous," you sighed, shifting so you could look at him fully, "They’ve known you for so long, and I don’t want to feel like the odd one out, you know? What if I don’t fit in?”
“Mon amour, you’re not an outsider," Charles’ expression softened even more as he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers with his, "You’re my girlfriend, and that means you’re already part of my world.”
You bit your lip, still feeling a little unsure. It was a lot of pressure—meeting the people who had been with Charles through thick and thin, who knew sides of him that you were still discovering.
“I’m sure they’re great,” you said, leaning into him a little, “but it’s still kind of intimidating. I mean, Riccardo and Marta have a baby. What if I’m awkward around Chiara?”
Charles let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Chiara’s a baby. All she cares about is who makes her laugh and who gives her food. And knowing you, you’ll have her wrapped around your finger in no time.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, imagining a tiny baby giggling in your arms. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Charles replied, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, I get it. Meeting new people, especially people who are important to me, can be overwhelming. But I promise, they’re going to love you. And more importantly, I’ll be there with you the whole time.”
His words calmed the nervous buzzing in your mind, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll meet them.”
Charles’ face lit up with that boyish grin you adored, and he kissed you softly on the lips. “That’s my girl. I’ll talk to them, and we’ll make a plan for next weekend.”
You smiled against his lips before pulling back. “Next weekend, huh? No pressure, right?”
He winked, squeezing your hand, “None at all. Just you, me, and my crazy friends.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The following weekend came quicker than you expected, and before you knew it, you and Charles were standing outside Riccardo and Marta’s house, your heart beating a little faster than usual. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted out from the backyard, and you could already hear Chiara’s high-pitched giggles.
“You okay?” Charles squeezed your hand as you stood at the front door.
“Yeah, just…" you took a deep breath, nodding, "You know, trying to remember how to be a functioning human.”
"Mon coeur, it's fine!" Charles gave you a huge grin, "Just think bout the first time you came to a race with Kika and met everyone. You were a natural."
You chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, and from that moment, I thought you disliked me for the longest time."
"Baby, we've talked about this," Charles raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "I was just... reserved," he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of sincerity.
You nudged him playfully. "You were cold! Barely even smiled at me. I thought, 'Great, Pierre’s friend is grumpy and doesn’t like me at all.’"
"And now, look at me," Charles laughed, pulling you closer, "Head over heels for you. Who would've thought?"
You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. His eyes softened, and before you could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.
When you finally pulled away, Charles rested his forehead against yours. "I promise, they’ll love you. Just be yourself, like you always are."
You nodded, a small smile on your lips. "Okay, I’m ready."
With that, Charles opened the door, and the two of you stepped inside, the lively sounds of his friends filling the space around you. The air was warm, the atmosphere welcoming, and as soon as you stepped through, Joris waved at you from across the room, and Marta smiled brightly, holding little Chiara.
"Well, well, if it isn't the girl who used to roll her eyes every time Charles spoke," Joris teased, approaching you and pulling you into a friendly hug.
You laugh, feeling some of your nervousness dissipate. "What can I say? He grew on me."
"Like a fungus, I'm sure," Joris winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.
Marta spotted you both and beamed, making her way over with Chiara balanced on her hip. Riccardo followed closely behind her, grinning widely.
"Ah, there he is," Riccardo greeted, pulling Charles into a hug before turning to you with a bright smile. "And this must be YN. It’s so great to finally meet you."
Charles stepped to the side, his hand still holding yours as he made the introductions. "Riccardo, Marta, this is YN, my girlfriend. YN, these are two of my closest friends in the world."
You smiled nervously but warmly, offering your hand to Riccardo, who brushed it aside to pull you into a friendly hug. "We do hugs around here," he said with a wink.
Marta followed suit, hugging you carefully while balancing Chiara in her arms. "It’s so nice to meet you, YN," she said, her smile warm and welcoming. "Charles has told us all about you. It’s about time we finally get to meet the girl who’s got him smiling all the time."
You chuckled nervously, your cheeks flushing a little. "He exaggerates."
"I don’t think so," Charles teased, his arm slipping around your waist again as he beamed at you.
Another one of Charles' friends raised his glass from where he was standing. "And here she is—the woman who tolerates Charles better than any of us."
You laughed at that, feeling some of the tension slip away as everyone welcomed you with open arms. The introductions continued as more of Charles’ friends trickled into the conversation, each one greeting you warmly, making you feel like part of the group in no time. It was clear that Charles’ friends were just as kind and friendly as he had promised.
“I’m so glad you could come," Marta said as she sat down next to you, little Chiara still in her arms.
“Thank you for having me,” you replied warmly, already feeling more at ease with her friendly demeanor.
Baby Chiara’s curious eyes darted toward you. You waved at her with a soft smile, and to your surprise, Chiara giggled, her little hands reaching out toward you.
“She’s been so excited all day,” Marta said with a chuckle, adjusting Chiara on her lap. “I think she knew we were having company. You want to hold her?”
You hesitated for a moment, but before you could even reply, Chiara was practically leaning over to get closer to you. You couldn't help but laugh, your heart melting at the sight of her small, chubby hands reaching out.
“I think she’s made up her mind,” you said, taking Chiara from Marta. The little girl settled in your lap immediately, looking up at you with wide, innocent eyes before giving you a sweet, toothy grin.
Charles, who had been chatting with Riccardo and Joris nearby, turned around just in time to catch the scene. His expression softened as he watched you interact with Chiara, his heart clearly in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, completely mesmerized.
“She loves you already,” Marta said softly, watching the way Chiara kept reaching for your face, fascinated by your hair and earrings.
“She’s adorable,” you said, your voice equally soft as you gently played with the little girl’s hands. Chiara giggled again, her laughter filling the room, and you couldn’t help but beam at her.
Charles crossed the room, his eyes still glued to the two of you. "She’s not the only one," he teased, placing a hand on your shoulder as he bent down to kiss your temple. "She’s got good taste."
"You're such a sap," Joris called out from where he sat, grinning as he popped another cookie into his mouth. "Look at you, all gooey and soft."
“Careful, Joris,” Charles replied, smirking at him. “Don’t make me start telling embarrassing stories about you."
“Oh, I’d love to hear those,” Marta chimed in, clearly enjoying the playful banter.
“Hey, I’m not the one who once locked himself out of the house without pants,” Joris shot back, earning a chorus of laughter from everyone around the room.
Amidst the laughter, Marta leaned closer to you, her voice just above a whisper. “You know,” she said, glancing at Charles, who was still gazing at you and Chiara with that adoring smile, “I’ve never seen him like this. I can tell he’s really happy with you.”
Her words made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up at Charles, feeling a warmth spread through you as you caught his eye. He winked at you, completely oblivious to Marta’s words, but it only made the moment more special.
"Thank you," you replied quietly, feeling a bit shy under her knowing gaze. "That means a lot coming from you."
Marta smiled, patting your hand. "I'm really glad he found someone special. You fit right in."
Before you could respond, Chiara began fussing slightly in your lap, clearly looking for something. Charles noticed immediately and knelt down beside you, offering the small toy she had dropped earlier. As soon as you handed it to her, Chiara calmed down, grabbing the toy and happily gnawing on it.
"I told you she'd love you," Charles grinned as he watched the two of you.
"You're right," you replied with a smile, gently bouncing Chiara in your lap. "She's perfect."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. You found yourself quickly settling into the group, enjoying the way everyone seemed so at ease with one another. Joris and Riccardo were relentless in teasing Charles, often making jokes about how smitten he was, while Marta continued to shoot you knowing glances, clearly pleased with how everything was going.
At one point, as the evening wound down, Chiara started to get sleepy. She nestled into your arms, her little fingers curling around your shirt as her eyes fluttered closed.
Charles, who had been watching the whole time, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You’re amazing with her," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.
"She’s the sweetest," you whispered back, glancing down at the tiny girl fast asleep in your arms.
Charles’ gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his heart completely full. He had never imagined that watching you with Chiara would have such an effect on him, but here he was, absolutely melting at the sight.
As the night drew to a close, Riccardo and Marta thanked you both for coming. “Next time, we’ll have to do it at your place, Charles,” Riccardo joked, clapping him on the back.
“Sure, as long as you bring Chiara,” Charles replied with a grin, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you stood by his side.
Marta gave you a quick hug before you left. "Seriously," she whispered in your ear, "We're really glad you're in his life."
You smiled at her, feeling the warmth and sincerity behind her words. "Me too."
687 notes · View notes
judebellswife · 2 days
Text
First Glimpse - Jude Bellingham
Tumblr media
— REQUEST status OPEN
— pairing • jude bellingham x fem!reader
— summary • In Jude Bellingham’s much-anticipated documentary series, fans are given an intimate look into the football star’s life, with a special feature introducing his long-time girlfriend—you. Known for keeping a low profile despite dating one of football’s brightest stars, this marks your first public appearance. During a heartwarming interview, you open up about how you and Jude met, even though you already knew who he was, and how you never expected to become his girlfriend. The episode includes candid moments with Jude’s family, particularly his parents and younger brother, Jobe, with a special Thanksgiving Eve gathering where you all share laughter, love, and togetherness. Through your eyes, fans get to see a more personal side of Jude and his close-knit family.
— warnings • none :)
— note • i’ve got like 7-8 request about to write a one-shot with reader featuring in one of jude’s document series. so here it is, i hope you enjoy, happy reading!!
The camera focuses in on a familiar setting for those who follow Jude Bellingham’s career: the cozy, welcoming living room of the Bellingham family home. The walls are adorned with family photos, mementos from Jude’s rise in football, and hints of his personality—trophies and framed jerseys alongside warm family portraits.
But today, the focus is on you. You sit on the sofa, the soft cushions surrounding you as the camera captures your slight nervousness. A small, warm smile crosses your face, and you shift in your seat, unused to the spotlight.
A voice from behind the camera breaks the silence. The interviewer. “So, this is your first time on camera. How are you feeling?”
You chuckle, glancing off-screen for a moment as if looking for support before turning back. “Yeah, it’s definitely new for me. I’m more of a private person, so this is... different, but I’m excited to be part of this.”
There’s an understanding laugh from the interviewer. “For everyone watching, could you introduce yourself?”
You nod and give a small wave. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Jude’s girlfriend, and, um... yeah, I’m usually not in front of the camera, so this is a bit out of my comfort zone,” you say, your voice laced with both nerves and humor.
The interviewer continues smoothly, keeping the tone light. “So, let’s jump into the good stuff. How did you and Jude meet?”
You pause for a moment, your eyes softening as you think back to the day. “Well, I actually knew who Jude was,” you begin with a smile. “I mean, he’s Jude Bellingham. Anyone who follows football knows who he is. But I never imagined I’d actually end up dating him. That wasn’t even on my radar.”
The camera cuts to a shot of Jude laughing in an earlier part of the documentary, as if he’s recounting the same story, though from his perspective. His grin is wide, and there’s a glint in his eyes that shows how much he enjoys this memory.
You continue, your voice a little more relaxed now as you find your rhythm. “We met through mutual friends at a small gathering. I’d seen him play on TV and heard about him through the grapevine, but when we met in person, he was just... Jude. Not the football star. Just this really laid-back, funny guy.”
“So, did you know right away that you liked him?” the interviewer asks, intrigued.
You laugh, shaking your head. “Not at all. I was definitely attracted to him—he’s handsome, obviously—but I didn’t expect anything more than just a friendly conversation that night. I thought it’d be a ‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ and that’d be it.”
There’s a brief pause, and the interviewer presses gently. “So what changed?”
You smile, eyes twinkling with the memory. “Jude changed. We ended up talking the whole night. It was so easy with him, and I realized he wasn’t just this football prodigy everyone sees on the pitch. He’s so much more. Kind, funny, and really grounded. But it was his persistence that surprised me the most. After that night, he didn’t just let it end there. He reached out, wanted to spend time with me, and honestly? I couldn’t resist his charm.”
The camera switches to a series of candid clips, showing you and Jude out and about—him pulling faces to make you laugh, you playfully pushing him away before being pulled into a hug. It’s the kind of chemistry that makes it clear this relationship runs deep, full of mutual adoration and comfort.
“So, how long have you two been together now?” the interviewer asks off-screen.
You think for a second, tilting your head slightly as you calculate. “A little over two years now. Time flies, honestly. It’s been an incredible ride.”
“And what’s it been like, dating someone as high-profile as Jude?”
You take a deep breath, nodding. “It’s definitely been an adjustment. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, especially with how much attention he gets. But we had a conversation early on about keeping our relationship private, at least until we were ready. Jude’s been really protective of that—he’s always made sure I feel comfortable, and I love that about him. But I also understand that he’s a public figure, and being with him means that sometimes, I’ll be seen too. This,” you gesture around at the cameras, “is one of those times.”
The camera cuts to another moment—this time, Jude and you are walking through a park, your hands loosely clasped together. He swings your arm playfully, then stops to pull you into his side, whispering something in your ear that makes you laugh. It’s easy, intimate, and full of warmth.
“Speaking of being seen,” the interviewer continues, “how does it feel to finally share a bit of your relationship with the world?”
You laugh softly. “It’s exciting, I guess. People have always been curious, but I’ve been pretty firm about staying out of the spotlight. I’m not someone who thrives on attention like Jude does. But it’s nice to be able to show this part of his life. People know him as the footballer, but they don’t really see the person behind all of that. I’m happy to share a little bit of what we have, because it’s special.”
The camera pans across the Bellingham household, warm and inviting with the sounds of family chatter filling the air. Thanksgiving Eve at the Bellingham’s is a full house. Jude’s dad, Mark, is in the living room, laughing loudly with Jobe and Jude as they discuss football, while his mom, Denise, is in the kitchen, bustling about as she prepares the family meal.
The lens of the camera focuses on you for a moment. You’re helping Denise chop vegetables, your hands moving a little slower than hers but with focus, and you share a comfortable conversation. A nervous laugh escapes you as you attempt to cut the vegetables to her standard.
“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” you ask, holding up an unevenly chopped carrot with a teasing smile. “It doesn’t look quite like yours.”
Denise glances over and laughs softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm in reassurance. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing just fine,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “Trust me, my first Thanksgiving wasn’t perfect either. And honestly, even if it’s a bit wonky, it’s still going to taste amazing.”
Her words, her tone—there’s something deeply maternal in the way Denise speaks to you. It’s as if you’re already a part of the family, not just Jude’s girlfriend, but someone she holds close to her heart. You smile at her gratefully, feeling that familiar warmth whenever you’re around her.
Denise’s attention turns fully to you now, setting down her wooden spoon and wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. “You know,” she begins, her voice soft and kind, “I’ve always thought of you like a daughter. You’re such a big part of Jude’s life, but you’ve also become such an important part of ours too.”
You look at her, slightly taken aback by the depth of her words. Your heart swells in your chest, not expecting the surge of emotion. “That means the world to me, Denise,” you say, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’ve always felt so welcomed here. You and Mark, and even Jobe—you’ve all made me feel like part of the family from day one.”
Denise steps forward, enveloping you in a gentle but tight hug, the kind that only a mother could give. “That’s because you are family,” she whispers against your shoulder. “We love you like one of our own.”
You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into her embrace, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. In this family, you’ve found something special—something you didn’t expect to have when you first started dating Jude. It’s not just a relationship with him; it’s a bond with the people who raised him, who made him the person you love so deeply.
As you pull away, Denise gives you a warm smile, her eyes soft with affection. “Jude’s a lucky man,” she says, glancing toward the living room where Jude is seated. “But then again, I think we’re all lucky to have you around.”
You chuckle softly, still holding onto the warm feeling in your chest. “I’m the lucky one. Jude’s incredible, and you’ve all been nothing but wonderful.”
Denise’s eyes twinkle as she leans in conspiratorially. “He’s a handful sometimes, though, isn’t he?”
You laugh, nodding in agreement. “Oh, definitely. But I love him all the more for it.”
Denise shakes her head, her smile growing wider. “Good, because he needs someone like you to keep him in check.”
There’s a shared understanding between the two of you, the kind that goes beyond words. Denise pats your hand and returns to stirring the pot, the air between you filled with warmth and affection. It’s a small moment, but one that fills your heart, making you realize just how deeply connected you’ve become to Jude’s family.
The scene transitions to the dining room, where the entire family is gathered around the table. Mark is telling a story, his booming laugh punctuating the conversation as Jobe makes a playful remark. Jude sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of your chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he smiles and laughs along with his family.
“Jobe, pass the bread,” Jude says, reaching across the table with a grin.
Jobe rolls his eyes dramatically but tosses the basket of bread to his brother. “There you go, Mr. Superstar.”
You nudge Jude with your elbow as he catches the bread. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t start charging for autographs at family dinners.”
Jude grins, leaning in closer to you. “Oh, I’d give you an autograph for free,” he teases, his voice low and playful.
You roll your eyes but smile, and as Jude reaches for his plate, Denise catches your eye from across the table. She gives you a wink, as if to say, See what I mean? A handful.
The love and ease that fills the room is palpable. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This family has welcomed you, loved you, and made you one of their own, and tonight is a perfect reflection of that.
The camera lingers on the scene—Jude’s hand resting on your shoulder, Denise watching her sons with pride, and you laughing along with them, fully immersed in the warmth of their family dynamic.
As the evening winds down, and dessert is served, Jude’s dad, Mark, stands up, raising a glass. “I think we all know what I’m about to say,” he begins with a grin. “But this Thanksgiving, I just want to take a moment to say how grateful we all are. Grateful for family, for good health, and, of course, for the wonderful woman who’s come into our lives and made our son the happiest he’s ever been.”
You blink, taken aback by the sudden toast, your eyes glancing around the table. Denise smiles warmly at you, her eyes filled with affection, and Jude leans closer, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.
“To Y/N,” Mark says, raising his glass higher. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”
There’s a soft murmur of agreement as everyone raises their glasses, and you feel your throat tighten with emotion. It’s not just words—it’s a promise. A declaration that you belong here, with them.
As everyone takes a sip, Jude leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “I told you they love you.”
You turn to him, your heart full. “And I love them.”
The camera captures the final moments of the evening—the plates scattered with crumbs, the soft murmur of conversation as everyone winds down, and the love that fills the room. The bond between you and Jude has always been special, but tonight, it’s clear that your relationship extends beyond just the two of you. You’ve found a home with his family, and they’ve found a place in your heart.
As the screen fades to black, the soft hum of background music plays, leaving the viewers with a sense of warmth and love, the credits rolling as the final glimpse of your story is shared with the world.
439 notes · View notes
mssalo · 3 days
Text
safety - Part: Il
Tumblr media
Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.
As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.
Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.
Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Breaking and entering, Scent kink, Voyeurism, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of military past, Manipulation, Power dynamics, Male masturbation, Joel, still, needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.
9k. enjoy.
Part I Part III
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
Joel found out she was working at the supply store by accident.
He hadn’t planned on seeing her again. After that first encounter, he convinced himself he’d walk away.
She wasn’t his problem.
He couldn’t get wrapped up in someone like her—someone who had no idea how dangerous the world really was.
But then, on one of his routine stops for supplies, he spotted her behind the counter.
She hadn’t seen him
At first, he’d assumed she was just a customer again, passing through, but when she’d ducked behind the register, pulling out receipts, it hit him.
She worked there now.
She hadn’t told him that before, hadn’t mentioned anything about it, and yet here she was, talking to customers, rearranging gear, moving around the store like it was something she’d been doing forever.
And for some reason, that made something inside him tighten.
She was here all the time. Regular hours, regular shifts.
Easy to find.
That should’ve made him feel nothing. But it didn’t.
That’s so fuckin’ dangerous.
From that point on, whenever he stopped by the store, he made sure to keep his distance.
He’d walk in, grab what he needed, and leave before she noticed him.
There was something about seeing her there—watching her smile and chat with customers—that unnerved him in a way he couldn’t explain.
She didn’t fit in with the world he knew.
She was too soft, too bright. She belonged somewhere safe, not in a place like this.
Yet, he found himself coming back.
Over and over.
Each time, he told himself it was the last time.
That he’d stop, that he didn’t need to see her again.
But every time he came back, she was there—talking to someone, laughing at some joke, her voice floating through the air like a song he couldn’t get out of his head.
Joel tried to ignore it.
Tried to ignore her.
But she was like a goddamn magnet, pulling him back in without even realizing it.
And then, one day, she spotted him.
“Joel!” she called, her voice bright and cheerful, as if they were old friends.
He froze, his hand tightening around the bag of supplies he’d grabbed.
He’d been so close to slipping out unnoticed, but now she was looking at him, smiling that same smile that made his chest tighten.
“Hey,” he muttered, forcing himself to turn and meet her gaze.
She was standing behind the counter, hands resting on the edge, her eyes lighting up as she looked at him.
These damn pretty eyes.
“I didn’t know you came here so often,” she said, her tone playful.
“What’s bringing you back this time?”
Joel grunted, trying to come up with a quick excuse. “Needed more supplies. That’s all.”
She didn’t seem to notice the coldness in his voice, just kept smiling at him like he hadn’t been avoiding her for days.
“You always seem so prepared,” she said with a small laugh. “I bet you could survive out there for weeks with all the stuff you buy.”
Joel’s jaw tightened. Survive? 
She had no idea what that meant.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes flicking to the side as if she wasn’t sure what to say next.
But then she turned back to him, her expression softening again.
“You know, I’ve been learning more about the gear here,” she said, leaning forward a bit. “I could help you with recommendations if you ever need it.”
Joel stared at her, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
Why was she still talking to him? Why was she being so damn nice?
“I’m good,” he said, his voice gruff.
But she didn’t stop.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes bright with curiosity. “You sure? I’ve been reading up on it a lot. Could probably surprise you with what I know.”
You shouldn’t trust me, Joel thought, his mind racing. 
Why are you still smiling at me?
He grunted again, shifting on his feet, his gaze flicking to the door.
He needed to leave. Now.
“Well,” she said, that same smile tugging at her lips, “if you ever need anything, just let me know. I’m here most days now.”
Too much information. 
Joel’s gut clenched. She shouldn’t be telling him this—telling anyone this. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was to be so open, so trusting?
“You shouldn’t tell people that,” Joel muttered, his voice harsher than he meant. “Not safe.”
Her brows furrowed, her smile slipping for the first time. “What do you mean?”
Joel felt the weight of her confusion settle on him, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “Tellin’ strangers where you work. When you work. Ain’t smart.”
She blinked, taken aback. “Oh... I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”
Of course, you didn’t. 
Joel’s mind reeled, his frustration bubbling just below the surface.
You don’t know how to think like that. You don’t know what the world can do to people like you.
But before he could say anything else, she smiled again, though this time it was smaller, a bit softer.
“Thanks for looking out for me,” she said, her voice quieter. “I didn’t mean to—well, I guess I’m just not used to thinking like that.”
Yeah. I can tell.
But instead of saying that, Joel just nodded, his jaw still tight. He needed to leave, needed to stop this before he got in too deep.
Here’s a darker, more intense version of that passage:
“See you around,” she called after him as he turned to leave.
He didn’t reply. He couldn’t.
His throat was tight, his chest heavy. But as he pushed open the door and stepped outside into the cool air, something made him look back.
She was still watching him. Smiling. Soft. So damn innocent.
That look in her eyes—so full of trust—twisted something deep inside him.
She doesn’t know better.
His boots hit the pavement harder than necessary as he made his way to the truck.
Every step felt heavy, like the weight of his thoughts was dragging him down. His hand found the door handle, but he couldn’t make himself move.
Couldn’t shake the way her scent still clung to him, sweet and soft, like she was still standing right next to him.
Joel gritted his teeth, staring down at the truck door, but all he could see was her face.
Her wide, bright eyes, that shy smile, the way she just… trusted.
Trusted him. She shouldn’t.
His body felt hot, the tension coiling low in his gut, his muscles tight.
Too tight.
And then he felt it again—his cock, straining against his jeans, hard and throbbing, a deep, almost painful ache that made his breath catch in his throat.
Fuck.
It hit him like a freight train, sudden and unwanted. His mind raced, trying to push the thought of her away, but the harder he tried, the worse it got.
His pulse pounded in his ears, the heat in his body rising as the memory of her soft voice echoed in his mind.
That innocent, clumsy laugh. The way she fumbled with the gear. The blush on her cheeks.
Joel’s grip tightened on the door handle, his knuckles turning white.
What the hell is wrong with you?
He hadn’t felt this in years. This need. This raw, primal hunger gnawing at him.
His body betrayed him, his cock throbbing harder, almost painfully, as if it knew something he didn’t.
But it was because of her.
The realization, again, made his chest tighten, his breath coming in rough, uneven bursts.
He slammed the door shut, leaning his forehead against the cool metal, trying to calm the storm raging inside him.
No. Not her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but her image was burned into his mind—her body, her smell, the softness in her eyes.
His cock twitched again, the pressure building, his jeans too tight, the pulse unbearable.
She was so sweet. So oblivious.
And here he was, standing in the parking lot like a goddamn animal, throbbing with need for something he knew he shouldn’t want.
But the thought of her lingered. The way she looked up at him like he was something to be trusted. Something safe.
Joel forced himself into the truck, gripping the wheel so tight he thought it might break.
His heart pounded in his chest, the tension making every breath feel like fire.
He needed to forget her. Get her out of his head.
But his body told him otherwise.
The throbbing between his legs refused to be ignored. His jaw clenched, muscles tight with frustration as the thoughts swirled, dark and unwanted.
He hadn’t felt like this in years. Not since before everything went to hell.
And now? Now this girl—this soft, sweet girl—had him unraveling.
Joel’s head thudded against the back of the seat, his pulse still racing. This wasn’t going to end well.
Not for him.
And definitely not for her.
· · ────
The following days were a blur of uncomfortable tension.
Joel tried to stay away.
He told himself not to go back to the store, not to linger around her.
He even went out on longer drives, tried to immerse himself in the things that usually kept his mind quiet.
But it didn’t work. Not anymore.
She was lodged in his thoughts, a constant, nagging presence that he couldn’t shake.
No matter how hard he tried to forget her, she always managed to crawl back in.
Her face, her voice, the way she smiled up at him like he wasn’t something to fear.
It gnawed at him, a reminder of everything he’d left behind.
A week passed before Joel saw her again.
This time, it was different. He wasn’t just there for supplies or to catch a glimpse of her. No, this time, he watched her more carefully.
Observing.
He kept his distance at first, lingering near the back of the store, eyes flicking toward her every few minutes as she worked.
She hummed to herself again, that same soft tune he’d heard the first time they met.
It wasn’t loud, barely audible under the sound of the store, but he caught it.
And it made something tighten inside him.
For a man who lived in shadows, always on alert, this brightness—this innocence—felt foreign. Her having no need to be quiet so she won’t be seen.
Wrong.
And yet, he couldn’t stop watching her.
She smiled as she spoke to a customer, her eyes lighting up as she handed them their change.
She was so goddamn open, so trusting. And that terrified him.
He told himself it was because she didn’t know better. She didn’t know what kind of world she lived in.
She hadn’t seen the things he’d seen, hadn’t done the things he’d done.
That was why he watched her so closely now.
He was protecting her. Keeping her safe.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
But it was more than that, wasn’t it?
The next day, she found him again, her voice soft but cheerful as she spoke up. “You’re back! Need anything else?”
Joel stared at her for a moment, his chest tightening at how easily she smiled at him. “Just… lookin’.”
She laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Well, if you ever need recommendations, I’m your girl.”
He tried to brush it off, tried to keep his voice steady, his eyes focused anywhere but on her.
But when she started talking about her weekend plans, everything shifted.
“I’m actually heading out for a solo trip this weekend,” she said, her voice filled with excitement.
“Found this beautiful spot just outside of town. Gonna do some camping, get away from everything for a bit.”
Joel’s blood ran cold.
Camping? Alone?
His jaw clenched as he stared at her, trying to process what she’d just said.
A girl like her? Out in the wilderness by herself?
The world wasn’t safe, and she was too naive to see that. She didn’t understand the dangers lurking just beyond the treeline.
“Where?” His voice was rough, demanding.
The softness from earlier was gone, replaced by the cold, hard edge that usually kept people at a distance.
She blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Uh… it’s just a little spot out past the ridge. Really pretty.”
Joel felt his chest tighten.
“You shouldn’t go alone,” he said, his voice dark, laced with warning. “It’s not safe.”
She blinked, clearly confused by his sudden shift. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice now. “I’ve done this before.”
“No, you won’t,” Joel growled, stepping closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “You have no idea what’s out there.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide, brows furrowed. “I—”
“You’ll get yourself killed,” he interrupted, his voice dropping lower, more threatening.
His paranoia was slipping through now, his need to protect her—to control the situation—overwhelming him. “You’re not prepared for what’s out there.”
There was a long pause, the tension thick between them. She opened her mouth to speak, but Joel wasn’t done.
“If you’re set on goin’,” he said, his tone calmer now, but still dark, “I know a better place. Secluded. Safe.”
His mind was spinning with the need to protect her, to make sure she was under his watch. “It’s past the ridge. You won’t find it on a map, but it’s perfect for campin’.”
That was his land. His very own property, tucked away from prying eyes, isolated and quiet. His land. Where he could keep an eye on her.
Her eyes brightened again, the tension between them easing just slightly. “Really? That sounds amazing! I’d love to check it out.”
Trusting so easily.
Joel nodded slowly, watching her carefully.
“I’ll give you the coordinates,” he said, his voice rough, his gaze still locked on hers. “Just… be careful.”
She smiled again, oblivious to the darkness brewing behind his eyes. “Thank you, Joel. I appreciate it.”
There's that damn blush again.
Joel nodded again, but his mind was already elsewhere.
She didn’t belong out there alone. And now, after hearing her plans, Joel knew what he had to do.
She wouldn’t be alone.
If she wouldn’t protect herself, then he would
· · ────
It happened by accident, really.
Joel had been driving through town, running his usual errands—another routine day where he tried to keep his mind occupied with anything but her.
It was something he’d been forcing himself to do for the past few days, convincing himself that the tension in his chest would ease if he just avoided her, if he didn’t let himself linger in her orbit for too long.
But fate had other plans.
As he turned down a quiet street on the edge of town, his eyes caught movement.
A figure stepped out of a small, unassuming house, barely noticeable in the corner of his eye.
Joel wasn’t even sure why he slowed down at first. He told himself it was out of habit, that old soldier instinct to assess everything in his surroundings. But the moment he saw her, all rational thought slipped away.
It was her.
She stood there, fumbling with her keys and a couple of grocery bags, her hair falling loose around her shoulders in soft waves.
Joel’s foot hovered over the brake for just a second too long as he watched her struggle to balance the bags and unlock the door.
Her face was flushed, lips moving as she muttered something to herself—a frustrated little quirk of her mouth that made his chest tighten.
There was something different about seeing her like this.
Here, in her space.
Not at the store, not somewhere public. But here—outside her home.
He felt a knot of something unfamiliar, something deep and possessive curl in his stomach.
She didn’t notice him at all. She was too busy juggling her things, her focus entirely on the door in front of her.
Joel’s gaze swept over her as he slowly rolled by, his truck moving at a crawl now.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though a part of him knew he should’ve kept driving.
But the pull was too strong.
There was a softness about her here that felt even more pronounced.
Her home, small and tucked away from the busier streets, suited her in a way that he hadn’t expected. It was unassuming, private, but open in a way that made Joel feel… unsettled.
Like she was too exposed, too vulnerable, and too easy to find. Too easy for someone to hurt.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened as the thought crossed his mind.
She had no idea how dangerous the world really was. How quickly things could go wrong.
He drove past, the truck moving with painful slowness, his eyes flicking from the road to her again and again.
She didn’t see him. Not once. And for some reason, that bothered him more than it should have.
She hadn’t locked the door when she finally went inside.
Of course, she hadn’t.
Joel’s chest tightened with frustration, his jaw clenching as he drove farther down the road, turning the corner and pulling to a stop just out of sight.
Now that he knew where she lived, something shifted. He couldn’t just drive away and forget about it. No, she was here, alone, with no sense of the dangers that could easily find her.
He shouldn’t care. It wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem.
But that’s not how it felt anymore.
· · ────
It wasn’t until later that night, as he lay in bed, that the dream came.
It wasn’t like the usual ones—flashes of war, the men he’d fought alongside, the sounds of gunfire and the stink of blood.
This one was different and it hit harder than anything he’d experienced in years.
He dreamt of her.
Of her in that house. And something, someone, breaking in.
It was chaos.
She was screaming, fighting to get free, and all he could do was watch, powerless, as she disappeared into the shadows.
He woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest, the adrenaline surging through his veins.
For a moment, Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been real—that she was in danger and he hadn’t been there to stop it.
His hand instinctively reached for the knife he kept near the bed, fingers gripping the handle like it was his lifeline.
His breath came in heavy bursts, his body rigid with the need to protect, to act.
He could still hear her screams, still see her face twisted in fear.
She wasn’t safe.
And it wasn’t just a dream. Joel knew then, in that moment, that he couldn’t let this go.
He couldn’t just stand by and hope for the best.
It was only a matter of time, before something bad would happen to her.
He had to make sure she was okay, had to make sure nothing like that ever happened to her.
And if that meant going out of his way to keep an eye on her, then so be it.
· · ────
The next day, he drove by her house again.
And the day after that.
Each time, he told himself it was just a precaution, just a way to make sure she wasn’t in any real danger.
He didn’t get too close, didn’t let himself be seen.
But every time he saw her, the tension in his chest loosened just a little, knowing she was still there, still safe.
He found out more about her routines—when she left for work, when she came back.
He watched as she went about her day, completely unaware of the eyes that followed her every move.
She wasn’t like the rest of the world—hardened and scarred by violence.
She was soft, untouched by the darkness that clung to everything Joel had known.
And that’s why she needed him.
· · ────
The more he watched her, the more he realized how easy it would be for something to go wrong.
A stranger could approach her on her walks, someone could break into her house, anything could happen.
And if he wasn’t there to stop it… she would be defenseless.
That feeling from the dream—the panic, the helplessness—still clung to him, gnawing at his gut like a festering wound.
He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t convince himself to turn around and go home.
That’s why he had started breaking into her house.
Naturally.
At first, it was just to make sure everything was secure.
He would check the locks, make sure the windows were latched, make sure there were no signs of forced entry.
But the more he let himself in, the more his reasons shifted.
He started checking her camping gear, making sure everything was in place.
Joel crouched down, fingers brushing over the rough material as he unzipped the bag.
His hands moved through her belongings with the same careful touch, checking each item she’d packed.
He frowned when he noticed some of the essentials missing.
No proper emergency gear. Not enough food. Definitely not enough water.
She wasn’t ready.
His chest tightened with a mix of frustration and concern.
She had no idea what she was walking into.
The wild didn’t care how innocent or sweet you were—it tore people apart.
And she was so damn trusting, so clueless about the danger that lurked everywhere.
Joel zipped the bag back up and stood, a plan already forming in his mind.
She couldn’t go out there alone, not without the proper gear. Not without protection.
He’d make sure she had what she needed.
He’d leave it for her—quietly, subtly.
She didn’t need to know he was the one watching over her.
She didn’t need to know just how deep his involvement went.
His feet led him down the hall, toward the room at the end—the door slightly ajar, a soft, warm glow spilling from inside.
Joel’s breath hitched as he stepped further inside, his boots nearly silent on the hardwood floor.
It was small, simple, but unmistakably hers.
A bed with a soft quilted cover, a small nightstand with a book left open, and clothes folded neatly on a chair in the corner.
Joel swallowed hard, his throat dry as his eyes roamed over the space.
He moved slowly, carefully, his eyes scanning the room like he was surveying a battlefield.
Everything was neat, untouched, just as he’d expected.
But as he stood there, something twisted in his chest. He wasn’t just here to check on her safety.
Something else caught his attention.
Her underwear.
At first, it was an accident. He wasn’t looking for it, but when he stumbled upon it—soft, lacy, and used—he couldn’t stop himself.
His hands reached for it before he even realized what he was doing, his fingers brushing against the delicate fabric.
His breath caught in his throat, his pulse quickening.
He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew that.
But the scent—her scent—was intoxicating, wrapping around him like a drug. His mind flashed with images of her wearing it, of her undressing, her skin soft and bare beneath his touch.
Joel’s grip tightened on the fabric, his body reacting in ways he hadn’t felt in years. His jeans grew uncomfortably tight, the throbbing between his legs impossible to ignore. He was so hard.
This wasn’t just about keeping her safe anymore. It was about something deeper, something darker.
He brought the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of her wash over him.
His eyes fluttered shut, his mind filling with thoughts he had no right to think.
He hadn’t let himself feel something like this —this raw, uncontrollable hunger—but now, standing in her bedroom, holding something so private, so close to her, it hit him like a wave.
Joel inhaled deeply, the scent wrapping around him like a haze, flooding his senses. It was overwhelming, intoxicating.
His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing deepened, and the scent clung to him, almost suffocating him in the best way possible.
The sweetness, mixed with something so personal, made his heart pound harder in his chest, heat rising in his body.
She had no idea.
No idea what she did to him.
How that softness, that scent, chipped away at the walls he build.
His fingers tightened around the fabric as he held it closer, the warmth of her scent flooding his senses.
His mind was clouded with images—images of her.
She shouldn’t be this trusting.
He imagined her standing there, blushing, lips parting slightly, her soft voice spilling from them, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through his mind.
She was just too easy to picture—too easy to want.
too sweet.
Too soft. Too innocent for someone like him.
Joel’s grip tightened as he let his mind spiral deeper into the images of her—blushing, trembling, staring up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that would soon be filled with something else.
His fingers tightened around the fabric, his body responding in ways he couldn’t deny any longer.
He fought to steady his breathing, to push the dark thoughts from his mind, but they were there, lurking just beneath the surface, no matter how hard he tried.
He shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want her. 
He wasn’t just imagining her anymore—he was feeling her, smelling her, letting her invade his mind and body in ways he hadn’t thought possible.
Joel’s jaw clenched, his breathing rough as he tried to regain control.
But the more he let the fabric linger in his hands, the more he realized—he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to let go.
Joel stayed like that, frozen in the moment, inhaling deeply, the used fabric of her underwear still clutched in his hands as he lost himself in the dark, possessive thoughts swirling in his mind.
He knew it wouldn’t be the last time. He couldn’t stop now.
The pull was too strong, too overwhelming.
Without even thinking, he raised the fabric closer, his lips hovering just above it.
His heart pounded in his chest, a heavy, aching rhythm, the temptation crawling under his skin.
He hesitated for just a moment, knowing how wrong this was, how far he was crossing a line.
But it wasn’t enough to stop him.
Nothing could stop him now.
Joel’s breath hitched, and his lips brushed against the soft material, barely making contact at first.
He could feel the warmth, the faint trace of her cunt, lingering on the fabric, and it sent a wave of heat rushing through him.
His grip tightened.
The softness pressed against his mouth, and for a split second, he let his tongue flicker out, tasting her sweet pussy, just barely.
It was subtle, a hint of something forbidden, but it sent a jolt straight through him.
He felt himself tense, his body reacting in ways he could no longer control, the line between protection and obsession blurring even more.
He wanted more.
Before he could let his tongue get another lick, Joel heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.
That did certainly stop him.
His body stiffened, and in a heartbeat, all the dark, twisted satisfaction evaporated, replaced by a surge of adrenaline.
His mind raced, his fingers trembling as he fumbled to put everything back exactly where it had been.
Not now. Not like this.
He moved swiftly but silently, making sure every trace of him disappeared. Every drawer closed, every fabric in place. He couldn’t leave any sign that he had been there.
His heart pounded against his ribcage as he slipped out of the bedroom, his movements precise, calculated.
Years of training kept his body moving even when his mind teetered on panic.
The soft sound of her footsteps reached his ears as she moved further into the house.
She was talking to herself again, that light, carefree tune that only made him more desperate to get out unnoticed.
She had no idea.
No idea that he had been so close, no idea of the thoughts that ran through his head while he held her soaked panties in his hands.
Joel paused at the back door, his body pressed against the frame as he caught a glimpse of her through the crack in the doorway.
She was still oblivious, setting her bag down, humming softly to herself. She hadn’t noticed anything. Not the disturbance in the air, not the faint scent of him that still lingered in the room.
So innocent. So trusting.
Must be nice.
He watched her for a moment, his eyes darkening as he observed her, standing there in the home she thought was safe.
He could still smell her on him, the faint scent clinging to his mustache, the lingering effect making his pulse quicken once more.
But he couldn’t stay.
Not now.
With one last glance, Joel slipped out of the house, his movements quick and silent.
He disappeared into the shadows just as she turned toward the hallway, completely unaware of how close he had been—how close he still was.
· · ────
Joel slipped into his truck with the stealth of a man used to evading detection, his heart still hammering in his chest as he turned the key in the ignition.
The engine rumbled to life, but his mind was elsewhere. 
The drive home felt longer than usual, each passing second a blur of adrenaline and frustration.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles white, his breathing uneven.
He could still smell her, the faint scent lingering on his clothes, on his skin. It was maddening.
He tried to shake it off, tried to ignore the throbbing ache that had been building since he smelled her sweet little cunt, but it wouldn’t go away.
When he finally pulled up to his house, Joel barely remembered the drive at all.
He parked the truck haphazardly, the door slamming shut behind him as he made his way inside.
His boots hit the wooden floor with heavy thuds, and before he knew it, he was leaning back against the wall in his living room, his breath still coming in shallow bursts.
His breath was ragged, the ache in his body refusing to subside.
The scent of her cunt—still clinging to his beard, his hands—seeped into his skin, a constant reminder of what she had stirred deep inside him.
He hadn’t felt like this in years, hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, there was no going back.
His cock throbbed painfully, straining against his jeans, and for the first time in so long, he couldn’t ignore it.
The need was unbearable, clawing at him, demanding release. He leaned back against the wall, chest heaving, every breath filled with the sweetness of her scent.
It was still there, on him, as if she hadn’t left.
His hand hovered over the bulge in his jeans, fingers twitching, as if fighting the urge to touch.
But the memory of her—the feel of her, the scent of her—was overwhelming.
He couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want to.
With a low growl, he gave in, his hand pressing against his cock, the pressure sending a shiver up his spine.
His jaw clenched as he slowly dragged his palm over the length, the throbbing only growing more intense. The sensation was too much, too sharp after years of nothing.
He hadn’t touched himself like this in so long, and the intensity of it almost knocked the breath out of him.
His cock twitched, hard and aching in his hand, the weight of it heavy as he gripped it tighter.
His breath hitched as he finally pulled it free, the cool air hitting his skin, but it did nothing to cool the heat that was coursing through his veins. fuck.
He stroked himself slowly at first, his rough palm sliding over the swollen, leaking head, the friction making him groan.
He thought he’d never feel this was again.
His mind was a haze of her—her softness, her innocence, the way she had smiled at him, so trusting, so sweet.
She didn’t know what she was doing to him. She couldn’t know.
But he did.
His pace quickened, each stroke more desperate, more insistent. The scent of her was driving him insane.
Sweet like her.
He licked his lips, trying to get some of that sweet, sweet taste back he had earlier.
His cock throbbed in his hand, hard and slick as he pumped it, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
Her face flashed in his mind again—those wide, innocent eyes, the way she had blushed when she looked at him.
She had no idea.
No idea how badly he wanted her, how much he needed her.
Joel’s grip tightened, his strokes rougher now, his hips jerking up into his hand as he chased that release, the pressure building fast.
His cock was pulsing in his hand, slick and hard, aching with the need for something he couldn’t name.
Something only she could give him.
His breath came in ragged bursts, his chest heaving as he pumped his cock faster, harder.
The tension coiled tight in his gut, every muscle in his body straining as the need for release consumed him.
He could almost taste her, the memory of her scent still filling his lungs, making his head swim.
With a rough, guttural growl, Joel’s body tensed, his vision going white as the tension finally snapped.
His cock jerked in his hand, the release hitting him like a storm, fierce and unforgiving.
He groaned low in his throat, his hips bucking as he spilled over his hand, the warmth spreading through him like fire. He hadn’t cum that much in years.
It wouldn’t stop coming out of him.
…well, this was new.
For a long moment, he stayed there, his breath coming in ragged, heavy gasps, his hand still wrapped around his now-softening cock.
The pleasure ebbed slowly, leaving behind a dark satisfaction that settled deep in his bones.
But it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
Because her scent was still there.
Her softness still lingered in his mind, wrapped around him like a shroud, and Joel knew—this wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Joel’s mind flickered back to the map, to the spot he’d given her—the spot on his land.
He could see it clear as day, tucked away, isolated, surrounded by woods.
Tomorrow, she’d be out there, alone, completely unaware of what could happen.
His jaw clenched at the thought.
The world was dangerous, filled with things she couldn’t even begin to understand.
But he did.
His pulse quickened, that dark, familiar feeling tightening around his chest.
He’d keep her safe. He’d make sure nothing happened to her—not on his watch.
No one else knew the dangers lurking in the shadows like he did. She had no idea, no clue what she was walking into.
But he’d be there.
Watching.
And if anything—or anyone—tried to hurt her, they’d have to go through him first.
Joel swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides. He’d seen too much, lost too much.
But not her. Not this time.
Tomorrow, he’d make sure she was safe… even if she didn’t know it.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
well… somebody needs therapy (me and him both)
I have no tag list for this (I’m old and will probably fail starting one) but if you comment on here I’ll remind you if there’s a new chapter!!
Deal?
xoxo
259 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 3 days
Text
you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (four)
requested here; (one); (two); three
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired) word count: 5k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Why did it feel like his stomach dropped out his ass when Nate showed up? 
It wasn’t like he actually expected you to choose him over Nate. The guy was practically perfect—your textbook version of what a guy should be. Clean, nice, predictable. The opposite of him.
But watching you hesitate like you were weighing your options right in front of him? That hurt like a bitch and he hated how much it did.
He couldn’t shake that look in your eyes.
Like you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. While every time you were around, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It’d been like that since the beginning, even back at that party when you tossed your drink in his face after he called you that stupid fucking name. He could still remember the way you glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. He’d been a cocky little shit, sure, but that fire in you? It hooked him.
Yeah, he liked messing with you. Always had. But lately, it didn’t feel like just messing around anymore. It felt different. It felt like he was doing it because he didn’t know how else to get close to you.
And now Nate was here, acting like he had some claim. Offering you lunch like it was some kind of test. Rafe should’ve laughed it off. Should’ve let you go. But instead, he was standing there, watching the whole thing go down, and all he wanted to do was grab you by the hand and pull you out of there. Away from Nate. 
Away from all this... bullshit. There he was, full-on spiraling because of a girl. Because of you.
He knew he was developing feelings, had been knowing, which terrified him because it was unfamiliar territory—he was used to being in control and suppressing emotions, not feeling vulnerable or emotionally attached.
Because maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be the guy you rolled your eyes at anymore. Maybe he was done playing the part of the asshole who didn’t give a fuck. 
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafe walked faster, trying to shake off the feeling. But he knew. It was the way you laughed when you were around him, even when you were annoyed. The way you always gave as good as you got. The way you’d looked at him today—like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune to him as you tried to be.
You were off having lunch with Nate.
The safe choice. And if there was one thing Rafe Cameron wasn’t? It was safe. And maybe, deep down, he hoped that was the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk away from him for good.
He kept walking, his footsteps loud in his head, like each step was trying to drown out the voice that was screaming at him to turn around. To go back and say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that guy. Not the one to chase after someone, to make a big scene. No, he was the one who sat back, arms crossed, and watched the whole thing play out like it didn’t bother him. Like it wasn’t tearing him up inside.
Rafe realized he was pissed. Not at Nate. The guy was just playing his part. But at you. No, not really at you either. He was pissed at himself. For letting things get this complicated. For letting you get under his skin the way you had.
It wasn’t like you were his. It wasn’t like he had any right to be jealous.
But damn, the way Nate had just swooped in like it was nothing, like it was so obvious you’d say yes to him. The dude barely had to try, and there you were, actually considering it. Maybe you even wanted him to. He stopped walking, running a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. 
Screw this. He needed to get out of here, away from the whole situation. Maybe blow off some steam, hit the gym, or go for a drive. But the thought of you sitting there with Nate, laughing, maybe even flirting—it was enough to make his jaw clench.
What if you were actually into that guy? What if all this back-and-forth with him was just... nothing to you? Some game you were playing because you liked the attention, but when it came down to it, you’d always pick someone like Nate?
If you picked Nate, fine. But if there was even a part of you that was feeling the same thing he was—if there was even a chance you weren’t as over him as you pretended to be? He wasn’t going to let you walk away that easily.
Not without a fight.
Rafe dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a second. He could text you. Could hit you with some sarcastic line, ask how lunch with Captain America was going, but it felt... small. Petty. And, honestly, he didn’t want to come off as that guy—the jealous, insecure type. But not doing anything felt worse, like he was just letting things slip through his fingers.
He leaned against a nearby fence, staring off into the distance. Part of him was waiting for some kind of sign. Like maybe you’d ditch Nate and text him instead. Maybe you’d realize that this whole thing with Nate was boring, that you needed something more. 
Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d laugh and smile at Nate’s predictable jokes, and that’d be it. You’d pick the guy, the one your friends would probably approve of. The one who didn’t make you feel like you were on a rollercoaster every time you were around him.
Rafe kicked the fence post. He hated this. Hated feeling out of control, like someone else was calling the shots. Like you were making choices that didn’t involve him.
And yet, there he was. Waiting.
He was about two seconds away from hurling his phone into the bushes when it buzzed in his hand. His heart actually stopped for a second. No way. There was no way.
He glanced at the screen, and there it was—your name, lighting up his phone.
Every instinct told him to play it cool. Let it ring a few times, don’t seem desperate. But his hand moved on its own, thumb swiping across the screen before he could stop it. He brought the phone up to his ear, heart hammering in his chest, trying to sound normal.
“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t dying inside.
And just like that, everything else—Nate, the frustration, the whole stupid back-and-forth—faded into the background. Because right now, you were calling him.
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Lunch with Nate was proving to be exactly what you expected: normal. easy. boring.
He talked about his classes, his weekend plans, asked you a couple of questions about your own. And you answered, smiling, nodding, doing all the things you were supposed to do. But your mind? It was somewhere else entirely.
It was with Rafe. With the way he looked at you before he left, like he was daring you to stop him. Like maybe he wanted you to say something, anything, to keep him from walking out. And as much as you tried to ignore it, that little flutter in your chest hadn’t gone away.
“So, how’s studying going?” Nate asked, pulling you back to the conversation.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s fine. Just... a lot,” you mumbled, forcing a smile.
Nate raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the fact that you weren’t all there. “You sure? You seem a little distracted.”
You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe. To the way he’d been so close to you during your study session, leaning in like he had every intention of pushing your buttons. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he’d talked about the bonfire, about seeing you as more than just someone to mess with. And for the first time, it felt like maybe Rafe wasn’t just a flirt. Maybe he was actually trying to tell you something.
“I’m fine,” you lied, stabbing at your sandwich with way too much enthusiasm.
But you weren’t fine. Not even close.
You knew why. Sitting here with Nate, everything felt... off. It was like you were trying to make this picture-perfect version of your life fit, but the edges weren’t lining up. You were supposed to want this—supposed to be happy that the guy you’d been into for months was finally showing interest. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About the way your heart had sped up when he looked at you, the way his voice dropped when he was being serious, when he wasn’t hiding behind that smirk.
God, why couldn’t you stop thinking about him?
Nate cleared his throat, snapping you out of it again. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been pretty quiet.”
You bit your lip, nodding, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. “Yeah. Just... got a lot on my mind, I guess.”
Like how you might’ve just let Rafe walk away.
Nate didn’t push it, and part of you was relieved. The other part? It was screaming at you to stop pretending. To be honest, at least with yourself. Because the truth was, as much as you wanted to want Nate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Rafe was the one you should’ve been sitting with right now.
And that scared you. Because choosing Rafe meant choosing chaos. It meant diving headfirst into something that had no guarantees, something that could blow up in your face. But it also meant feeling alive. Because with him, everything was more intense. More real.
As you and Nate left the sandwich shop, walking back to campus, you couldn’t help but glance around, half-expecting to see Rafe somewhere. But he wasn’t there. He was gone, and now you were stuck wondering if maybe you’d just made a huge mistake.
Nate smiled, oblivious to the storm inside your head. “So, you wanna do this again sometime?”
Your heart sank a little at the question. Because the answer should’ve been a yes, no hesitation. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About how you wished you were with him, laughing, arguing, feeling that electric tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever he was around.
You swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
But as the words left your mouth, you knew you were lying.
And Nate, being Nate, didn’t seem to notice. He was still smiling, probably thinking the lunch went fine, like everything was falling into place just the way he thought it should. But you? Your mind was miles away, stuck on other guy and the way he’d left without looking back.
You felt like you should say something to him, like you should be more present in the moment, but every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out. 
Did you really want Nate? Or had you just been chasing the idea of him this whole time because it was easy, because it was safe? Because he was the kind of guy you grew up thinking you should be with?
But then there was Rafe. And the more you tried to push him out of your head, the more he stayed there, taking up space, making everything with Nate feel... dull in comparison.
“So, I was thinking,” Nate said, breaking the silence, “Maybe we could check out that movie this weekend? You know, the one you mentioned a while back?”
His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.”
But the truth was, you didn’t care about the movie. You didn’t care about any of it right now.
“Hey, you okay?” Nate’s voice snapped you back again, his eyes narrowing in concern.
You plastered on a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just... distracted, I guess.”
 “Well, if you’re busy this weekend, we can always reschedule.”
“I’ll let you know,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t push it any further.
Nate nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. And honestly?
Neither were you.
By the time you made it back to your dorm, you were mentally exhausted. Nate had left with a casual wave and a promise to text you later, but as soon as he was out of sight, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone like a fucking idiot. But no messages came in, no missed calls from Rafe or anyone else. It was just you, sitting there, replaying the whole afternoon in your head.
Why did everything feel so wrong with Nate? He was supposed to be the plan. He was supposed to be your choice. The easy, right choice.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumped in your chest as you glanced down, half-expecting it to be Rafe. But it wasn’t. It was Nate, sending a follow-up text about the weekend plans.
You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.
What were you doing? Why were you still holding onto this idea of Nate when your heart was clearly somewhere else? Somewhere messy, complicated, and... dangerous.
Before you could stop yourself, you closed out of Nate’s message and opened Rafe’s contact. Your thumb hovered over his name for a second before you hit "Call."
The phone rang once. Twice. Your heart pounded in your chest as the seconds dragged on. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just hang up before he—
“Yeah?” Rafe’s voice came through the line, a little gruff but unmistakable.
You froze for a second, suddenly unsure of what to say. But then you took a deep breath. “Hey, uh... you busy?”
There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “What, finally realizing Nate’s not as fun as you thought?”
 “Something like that.”
There was a beat of silence, and you thought maybe he was going to tease you some more. But then his voice softened, just like it had earlier. “You wanna meet up?”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. I think I do.”
Another pause, and then: “Same spot?”
You knew exactly what he meant. The library, third floor, in the corner where you’d been studying. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“See you in a few.”
And just like that, the line went dead. What had you just done? 
You hung up, heart racing like you’d just agreed to do something you weren’t supposed to. But wasn’t that the whole point? This thing with Rafe—it was unpredictable, messy, and completely off-script. 
As you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door, you couldn't help but feel like you were crossing some kind of line. With Nate, things were clear-cut, easy. But with Rafe? It was like stepping into the unknown. You knew there was a chance this whole thing could blow up in your face, but for once, you didn’t care.
You wanted real. You wanted fire. And right now, that was Rafe.
As you walked to the library, the campus around you blurred, your thoughts spinning back to every moment you’d had with him. Every teasing comment, every cocky grin, every time he’d gotten under your skin without even trying. Maybe you had been pretending with Nate—pretending to want something you were never actually sure about.
But with Rafe? You weren’t pretending. Even when it terrified you.
When you reached the third floor of the library, it was quiet, almost too quiet. Your footsteps echoed as you made your way to the spot you both knew so well. And there he was, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he wasn’t the reason you’d been tied up in knots all day.
You rolled your eyes and crossed the room, dropping into the chair across from him. “Don’t start,” you warned, though the edge in your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be.
Rafe’s grin widened. “What, can’t handle me being right for once?”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right about what? You being a total pain in my ass? Sure, I’ll give you that.”
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand like he was amused by your whole existence. “C’mon, you know why you’re here.”
“So,” you started, trying to act casual, like your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest. “I guess lunch with Nate didn’t really do it for me.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “No shit. Figured as much.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept up. “Why are you so smug about it?”
“Because,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, “I knew you’d come back.”
Your breath caught in your throat at how sure he sounded.
Of course he knew. That cocky, self-assured grin of his said it all. He’d been waiting for this moment—waiting for you to realize what he had probably known all along.
And damn if it didn’t piss you off.
You sat down across from him, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your resolve, but it was slipping. Fast. Because the way he was looking at you? Like he was daring you to admit what you were really feeling—it was messing with your head.
“So, what now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Rafe crossed his arms, biceps bulging in his stupid polo, like he was giving you all the space in the world to figure it out. “That’s up to you.”
That’s the thing about him—he could act all indifferent, like he wasn’t bothered, but you could see it. There was something behind his eyes, just barely kept in check. And it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t just some game to him. Not anymore.
But you weren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. Not yet. 
“What makes you so sure I’m not just here to tell you I’m picking Nate?”
That smirk faltered for just a second. “You’re not.”
You couldn’t be. 
“How do you know?”
“Because if you were, you wouldn’t have called me.”
The way he said it—so simple, so damn certain—made your heart skip. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Hated that he had this pull on you that no one else ever had. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the truth. Not when it was staring you in the face, wearing a smug expression and leaning back like he had all the time in the world.
“What if I did?” you shot back, still trying to hold your ground.
He shrugged, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Then I guess I’d have to live with that. But I’m not worried.”
Lies.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re so damn cocky, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink.
You wanted to roll your eyes again, to act like he wasn’t getting to you. But he was. And he knew it.
You rested your elbows on the table, your eyes meeting his. “And what if I told you I wasn’t sure? What if I told you I’m still figuring it out?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just kept his eyes locked on yours, like he was seeing right through the bullshit. “Then I’d tell you to take your time. Figure it out.”
The way he said it—so calm, so sure—made your stomach twist. He wasn’t asking you to pick him. He was daring you to. Because Rafe didn’t do half-measures. He didn’t do safe. He was all or nothing, and right now? He was putting it all on the table.
All you could think about was the way your heart was hammering in your chest, the way every part of you was screaming that this—this—was what you really wanted.
And that’s when it hit you: you weren’t scared of Rafe. You were scared of how much you wanted him.
“Rafe, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure of where you were even going with that.
His expression softened, just a fraction. “What? What do you want to say?”
You wanted to say everything. That you weren’t just messing with him anymore either, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him, that you were tired of pretending like Nate was some perfect choice when he wasn’t even in the same league. But saying all that? To someone who hurt you so much before?
He had that look, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind but was giving you space to figure it out on your own. But you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you were ready to say it out loud. Admitting how much Rafe meant to you felt like letting him win, like handing him all the power. And after everything, after all the back-and-forth, you didn’t want to be that vulnerable. Not with him.
“I know I’ve been an asshole,” he started, almost hesitant. “All those years, the shit I said—it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”
Your breath caught in your throat. 
He ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to figure out how to keep going. “I just... I don’t know. It was easier to push you away, to act like I didn’t give a fuck, you know? Like messing with you made it better somehow. But it didn’t.” He paused, his voice softening. “It made me feel like shit.”
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You just sat there, staring at him, trying to process the fact that Rafe Cameron—Rafe—was apologizing.
He swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting your eyes again.
 “I know I’m a mess. Hell, I’ve always been a mess. And I get why you’d pick someone like Nate. The guy who won’t make you lose sleep wondering what the hell is going on.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is, I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up since the beginning. With you, with us. And I hate that I did that." He pushed back slightly, running a hand over his face like he was frustrated with himself. “I’m not good with this... with feelings. With being upfront. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that or trust me after everything I’ve pulled. But I want you to know I’m not the same guy I was back then. It sounds fucking insane, but I’m not. I want to be better. For you. Because, fuck, I don’t want to lose you to some guy just because I couldn’t admit I was scared of this—of us.”
You bit your lip, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.
“And look, I know I’ve made it hard for you to believe me,” he said, his voice softer now, more honest than you’d ever heard him. “But you should know that you’re not just some game to me. Not anymore. You’re... everything I’ve been too afraid to want.”
The guy who spent years acting like nothing could touch him, like he was untouchable, was now sitting across from you, pouring his heart out. And you had no idea what to say.
Your mind was racing. It felt like everything you thought you knew about him, about what you were feeling, was suddenly flipped upside down. You'd always assumed Rafe would never be the guy who’d sit down and admit he was scared of something, especially not scared of you.
But here he was, looking like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.
What? What were you even supposed to say? That you forgave him? That you didn’t? That you were still figuring out how you felt about everything? You weren’t even sure yourself. But you did know one thing—whatever this was—it was real. 
You couldn’t deny that anymore.
“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know that I’m not going to play around anymore. Not with you.”
Your heart clenched at that. And the thing was, you could see it in his eyes—he meant it. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky attitude. Just him. Raw and real and honest in a way that caught you completely off guard.
And suddenly, you realized that was what scared you the most. Not Rafe, but the way he made you feel. The way he pushed you to stop pretending, to be real, even when it terrified you.
You stared at him, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. He was spilling his guts to you. It felt... unreal, and you were torn between wanting to laugh and maybe freak out a little.
All you could think was, How the hell am I supposed to handle this? This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not from him.
“So, what,” you started, leaning back a bit, trying to keep your voice casual, “you’re just, like, a totally different person now? Is this the part where you tell me you’ve been secretly going to therapy or something?”
Rafe’s lips twitched, but he didn’t fully smile. “No, not exactly,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But... I’ve been trying to figure shit out. With myself. With us.”
With us. Your stomach did this stupid little flip at that, but you ignored it. “That’s a big statement, Cameron. You’ve had, like, two whole epiphanies and suddenly you’ve got everything figured out?”
He sighed, “I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out, alright? I’m just trying to be honest for once. I’m done screwing around with you.”
His tone was sincere, and as much as you wanted to keep teasing him, the look in his eyes made your throat tighten a bit. You shifted in your seat, your mind running a million miles an hour.
“I mean, I guess that’s an improvement,” you muttered, keeping it light even though your heart was pounding.
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”
“Well, yeah,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. “You were, let’s see, kind of a dick for a long time.”
He didn’t argue. “Yeah. I was.”
That caught you off guard. No defense, no excuses. Just... agreement. 
“Okay, so... what now?” you asked, trying to play it cool. “You apologize, and I just forget all the crap from before? You’re really not making this easy,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but your voice betrayed you, sounding a little too soft.
Rafe shrugged, that little smirk threatening to return. “Didn’t think you wanted easy.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know me so well, huh?”
“Better than you think.”
Your heart raced. “Right, because I just love being confused and frustrated. It’s my favorite hobby.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Well, you could always just admit that you’re intrigued. That might save us both some time.”
“Intrigued? Please. More like I’m questioning my life choices.”
Rafe leaned forward, “Hey, at least it’s not boring, right? I mean, look at us. This is way more interesting than whatever you were doing with Nate.”
You couldn’t argue with that. “True. But interesting doesn’t mean it’s not a total trainwreck waiting to happen.”
“Maybe,” he said, “But it could also mean something different.”
 “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” you said, trying to lighten the mood again. “What’s next? A serenade?”
“Actually, I’m not a bad singer,” he quipped, flashing that trademark grin. “But I think I’ll spare you the performance for now.”
“Wow, I’m overwhelmed by the humility.”
He chuckled softly, “You love it. And you know it.”
There it was again—the way he said things like it was a fact, like he could read you better than you could read yourself. And the worst part? He wasn’t exactly wrong.
“You don’t know everything about me, Rafe,” you said, your voice quieter now, but not weak. 
His smile softened, just barely, like he heard what you weren’t saying out loud. 
“Maybe not everything. But enough to know you’re not here by accident.”
It was easier to blame the pull he had on you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just him. You were here because something between the two of you, no matter how messy, no matter how confusing, felt unfinished.
You crossed your arms, trying to gain some control of the situation. “You’re awfully confident for someone who doesn’t have all the answers.”
“Not all of them,” he agreed, leaning back in his chair again, “But I know enough to know I’m not letting you go without a fight.”
There it was. That line you didn’t know you were waiting for. The line that said this wasn’t just some flirty game for him anymore. That maybe he was as scared of losing you as you were of admitting how much you wanted him.
And in that moment, sitting across from him, with all his defenses down and no jokes left to deflect with, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t ready to walk away either.
“Well,” you said, your voice softer, “I guess we’ll see if you’re really up for it, won’t we?”
His eyes locked onto yours, something serious flickering there for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. We will.”
196 notes · View notes
jo-speaks · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
good graces ft. quinn hughes
in which…
quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.
warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.
track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!
When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel
Drawin' hearts 'round our names
And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles
“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.
You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?
He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”
“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”
Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 
After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.
He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”
You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”
Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”
“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.
Don't mistake my nice for naive
“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.
You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”
He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”
“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.
“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.
You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 
You weren’t stupid.
I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys
You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye
Like, ooh
Baby, you say you really like it being mine?
So let me give you some advice
After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.
“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 
Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”
You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”
He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”
Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”
You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”
Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”
“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”
“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.
As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.
“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.
You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.
Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”
You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.
~
“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”
“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.
Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.
You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”
He nodded.
“Then don’t lie to me.”
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
That was cool
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3
Yeah
“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 
“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.
Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 
Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 
He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 
As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 
“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 
Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 
Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 
You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”
His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 
“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 
By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”
I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely
Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 
“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.
He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.
This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.
“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.
You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”
He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”
Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on
With your favorite athlete
Shoot his shot every night
Want you every second, don't need other guys
You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 
Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 
One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 
‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’
“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.
He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”
“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.
Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”
You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.
“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.
His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”
Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 
Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 
You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”
You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 
“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”
You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye
As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.
“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.
He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”
You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 
Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”
You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.
Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.
“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.
You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 
He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”
“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.
But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”
Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.
“And what?” You pressed.
“She wants to try again.”
You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”
He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.
You nodded your head, “Okay.”
“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.
Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.
“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.
Boy, it's not that complicated
You should stay in my good graces
Or I'll switch it up like that so fast
'Cause no one's more amazin'
At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2
I won't give a fuck about you x3
Oh, no
I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 
Oh
No, I won't
I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't
(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2
Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 
The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 
You didn’t need him. 
Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 
The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 
As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.
Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.
175 notes · View notes
munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
Text
Put it on My Tab
Tumblr media
bouncer!!logan x bartender!fem!reader
summary: You’re a bartender at the club where Logan is a bouncer and he’s going to deny his feelings for you until he’s convinced himself that he’s lost his chance.
cw: hurt/comfort
“Do you really think you can get away with this?” Logan asked the girl who was standing in front of him. She clearly wasn’t of age and the photo on the fake she had handed him hadn’t even resembled her. And the cherry on top that was that “Minnesota” was missing one of the n’s.
“And do you really expect me to believe that you were born in 1988? You don’t even look like you could have been born in 1998. I can’t let you in, kid.” He could see that the girl was crying and to the untrained eye, she definitely could have been. But Logan had been in the business long enough to know that she was just trying to garner sympathy, which never worked on him. Crying, if anything, just made the man feel uncomfortable. 
“You’re such a dick,” she cried as she watched him bend the ID right before her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he was called that and it certainly wouldn’t have been the last. 
The ID was tossed into the trash can right next to him and he waved the next person forward as the girl slowly moved out of the way, making her sobs louder and more pathetic as a way to get him to change his mind, but he wouldn’t. He never did. 
“You’re good,” he told the man as he glanced over his ID before handing it back. The job got monotonous, but it was definitely better than being Wolverine, as far as how easy it was. And it definitely wasn’t stressful unless there was a fight he needed to break up, but security usually handled it before he got there. 
He actually loved his job, if he was being honest, but that was really only because of you. The second he laid eyes on you, he was convinced that he was in love. Maybe. He didn’t know what love felt like, but all he knew was that he liked you. A lot. Even though he was going to convince himself that he didn’t. He tried to be mean to you to make you leave him alone, but that only made you want to see him more. And let’s be honest, as soon as you flashed him that megawatt smile, he was done for. His legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t help but smile back even though it felt very foreign. 
And as soon as you told him he had a pretty one, he was smiling all the time for you, just begging for you to say it again, and you did. If it wasn't that, you were calling him nicknames which would have usually angered him, but since they were coming from your lips, he hardly minded.
The night seemed to drag on as he counted down the minutes until he could have a drink at the bar, just you and him as everyone else had gone home. You had insisted on staying, giving him a drink in exchange for a ride home that he always gladly gave you once the alcohol was out of his system.
He smiled as he saw that his glass of whiskey was sitting on the bar, but you were nowhere to be found. He supposed that maybe you were in the back, neatening up the space. But when he went to check the back room, his heart sank as he saw you giggling with Brett, the bar back.
He had seen the two of you doing that exact thing on multiple occasions and it made him sick, angry even. Even though he didn’t feel like he had a right to be because the two of you were just friends. And perhaps that was what he was convincing himself that he was to you. Even though he wanted to be more. Even though he often fantasized about kissing you right in front of Brett to show him what was what. And on some occasions, he imagined bending you over the bar and having his way with you. Pounding into you, making you tell him who exactly it was who owned your cunt.
“Oh, hey, handsome,” you greeted with that smile that always drove him crazy and he couldn’t help but mimic your actions. Because the truth was that he couldn’t be mad at you if he tried. You somehow had broken down his walls brick by brick and had even managed to thaw his frozen heart.
“Hi,” he replied, trying his best to not let his literal claws come out, trying to keep his cool and do those breathing exercises that you had worked on with him.
“Hey, Leonard, was it?” Brett asked, averting his gaze to Logan and the man was close to rocking his shit, you could see it.
“It’s Logan,” you corrected. “I’m all good here, Brett, if you want to head out.”
“Okay, cool,” he nodded and clapped you on the back before weaving his way through the maze of boxes, moving quickly past Logan and fleeing the room, leaving the two of you alone.
You stared him, covering your lips with the tips of your fingers in an attempt to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape your throat. And Logan was not having it. The night was long and he was just ready to go home, his whiskey that he so desperately wanted, getting watered down by the second.
You stepped forward, pushing the boxes out of the way, moving to stand on front of him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you gave him a warm smile only for him to turn away from you, his signature scowl making its way back upon his face.
Without a word, you grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, still trying to hold that smile, desperate to see his own, the one that was specifically for you.
“Smile for me,” you commanded, your voice still soft. He showed you his teeth, but there was no actual smile. “Logan,” you giggled. “Just for me? Please?”
He smiled then, showing you his teeth and you felt your heart swell, knowing that you were the only person who could make him do it. And your heart leapt as you saw it slowly appearing on his face, pulling him into a hug.
“I’m not with Brett, by the way,” you changed the subject rather quickly. “He’s just a friend. More like a brother actually.”
"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing and you desperately wanted to smooth them out, to find a way to help his mind stop from reeling.
"I'm not with Brett," you repeated, closing the space between the two of you, reaching up to move a piece of hair that had fallen to his forehead, putting it back in place.
“You say that as if it’s supposed to mean somethin’” he muttered, his signature frown making a reappearance.
“I thought it did," you shrugged. "Because if looks could kill, he’d definitely be dead.”
He just glared at you and you smiled again, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck while his stayed by your side. His hands were itching to hold you and he was trying to fight it off, trying to convince himself that he wasn't so desperately, hopelessly in love with you.
"And it should mean something to you." Your finger poked his chest and he just stared back at you, clearly missing the point of what you were trying to get at.
"Why?" His head tilted to the side like a little puppy and you just sighed, wondered why he wasn't understanding what you were trying to say. Wasn't it obvious? Maybe you were being too vague, but you were sure that you had said everything you could to get your point across except the actual words.
"Because," you rolled your eyes. "Look at the facts, Logan. We both know I get a lot of people asking to take me home every night and I let the grumpy bouncer drive me home. What does that say to you?"
"That you aren't looking for anything." You let out a sigh of frustration and shook your head, making Logan even more nervous. What was it that you needed to tell him and why did you need to say it in the back room of your place of work?
"Oh geez, I guess I'm going to have to spell it out for you, aren't I?" You chuckled nervously and Logan felt his heart pound in his chest as it all finally clicked in his head. Your hands rested on his cheeks and you looked into pretty hazel eyes.
"Logan, I'm in love with you," you said, watching his his widen, his mouth falling open as the six words set in. He just stared at you in response and you were beginning to take that as rejection.
Your arms slipped from his neck and seeing the look on your face was enough to break his heart into a million little pieces. And as he watched you make you way your way out of the back room, he could have sworn that he could see you wiping tears away from your cheeks.
You were leaving. You were leaving and he was just going to let you. You were quickly slipping through his fingers as the seconds passed and he felt sick to his stomach thinking about the possibility of losing you.
So he ran. He ran as fast as he possibly could, following you out to the parking lot where you were heading to your car that you had actually driven there for once. You stopped to pull your keys out of your purse and Logan took the chance to stand in front of you, stopping you from moving.
"Get out of my way," you commanded, but he just stood there, staring you down.
"No," he said firmly. "Not until I'm done speaking. And then you can keep hating me, but I need to get this out, okay?" He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm in love with you," he said. "I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've never felt this way about anyone and honestly didn't think that you reciprocated my feelings, so when you told me that you loved me, I don't know...I just panicked." He was talking a mile a minute and you honestly barely understood him, ut you got the jist.
"So please don't leave," he pleaded his hands finding your waist. "Stay, because I don't know what I'd do with myself if you left."
"You love me?"
"More than you'll ever know, doll," he replied and pulled you into a kiss, neither of you bothered by the loud sound of your keys and purse falling to ground as your arms found their way to his neck once again. "Now let's get out of here."
"But what about the whiskey," you asked against his lips and he just chuckled.
"Just put it on my tab," he replied before pulling you in for another kiss.
You stayed like that until the early morning, kissing and giggling to each other, sitting on the hood of your car to watch the sunset together then heading back to your place for some much needed sleep before talking about how you were going to move forward over coffee and breakfast.
278 notes · View notes
jihyoruri · 3 days
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 QUEEN OF DISASTER kang haerin x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
↳ warnings yn is a nmixx member , haerin is insanely infatuated with yn, swearing, fluff, crazy dorm activities
haerin didn’t have many idol friends outside of her own group. she kept to herself most of the time, and honestly, she was fine with that. there was comfort in her peace she didn’t need it to be disrupted.
that was, until kyujin bounced into her life. the girl was a burst of energy, determined to befriend every 2006 liner in the industry, including haerin.
and, as much as haerin hated to admit it, kyujin was hard to resist. her infectious laughter, relentless enthusiasm, and her skill of making haerin feel comfortable chipped away at her guarded walls.
but that didn’t stop haerin from being a bit hesitant when the girl invited her to her dorms.
“I don’t know…” haerin murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor as kyujin groaned in protest. the idea of visiting another group’s dorm felt… odd. it wouldn’t just be kyujin it would be her and six other members, people haerin barely knew.
“come on!” kyujin whined, leaning dramatically against haerin’s arm. “my members are so welcoming. they’re really peaceful,” she added, the blatant lie making haerin raise an eyebrow.
“peaceful?” haerin shot her a knowing look, one that said, you can’t be serious.
“okay okay,” kyujin looked down reluctantly, “okay, fine. maybe not all of them,” she confessed, “but at least yoona unnie is. she’s super chill! you’ll feel comfortable with her, i promise.”
haerin nodded slightly, her mind flicking to sullyoon, who seemed just as quiet and reserved as she was probably the one member she might actually connect with. but something felt off. one name was conspicuously missing from kyujin’s reassurances..
yn.
everyone knew yn.
she was the industry’s darling, a sweetheart with doe eyes and a smile that could light up a room. her voice was soft, soothing even, the kind of voice that made fans melt and left the whole country captivated. she was gentle, exactly the type of person who would put haerin at ease.
she was peaceful with the softest voice to exist, just watching videos of her talking could put people at peace.
so why didn’t kyujin mention her?
haerin let out sigh, looking away from her friends puppy dog eyes, “fine…”
kyujin’s shriek of excitement nearly made her regret it. haerin scrunched her nose playfully, rolling her eyes as kyujin threw her arms around her in a tight hug, already chattering excitedly about the visit. but haerin’s thoughts were elsewhere.
she stayed quiet while kyujin rambled about how excited she was, her mind wandering to the girls beloved member.
she doesn’t know why, kyujin not bringing yn up occupied her mind so much.
I guess you can say the beloved member of nmixx intrigued her.
Tumblr media
“get the hell off of me!”
haerin stood wide eyed next to kyujin, frozen in place in front of the now-closed door to her friend’s dorm
she watched in disbelief as yn shoved bae off the couch, sending the girl tumbling onto the floor.
“now now, yn that’s not even nice.” the older girl groaned from the ground, flashing the pretty girl a teasing look.
“fuck off.”
the funny thing was, this wasn’t even the most chaotic thing happening in kyujin’s “lovely” home.
haewon was belting out a very loud tune in the kitchen while yoona tried her best to help clean up the mess. lily and jiwoo were in the living room, locked in a fierce round of just dance, screaming at each other to “dance harder!”
and yet, despite the madness swirling around her, haerin’s eyes couldn’t leave the industry’s so called sweetheart, who seemed to have quite the temper on her.
“you know you love me,” bae teased, trying to get up from the ground, only to be pushed right back down by yn.
“no, i hate you,” yn snapped, glaring down at her, though her wide, doe like eyes made her look more like a pouting kitten than anything intimidating.
kyujin glanced nervously at haerin, who stared at the chaos before her. “it’s not always like this,” she lied, trying to save face.
haerin shot her a look that screamed, yeah, right.
“i know…” kyujin sighed. “i told them to be on their best behavior. sorry.”
but haerin barely acknowledged her friend’s apology, too transfixed by yn’s little tantrum. the girl had settled back on the couch now, a perfect smile on her face, while bae remained sprawled on the floor, knowing that any attempt to stand would likely result in another push
“so it’s all for show?” haerin whispered, her eyes still glued to yn..
“huh?” kyujin furrowed her brow.
haerin tilted her head toward yn, and kyujin burst into laughter. “no! yn unnie is a complete sweetheart. what you see is what you get, she’s just… well, a bit short-tempered.”
as if yn could sense they were talking about her, she glanced up, her wide eyes locking onto haerin and kyujin. suddenly, her expression softened, and she shot up from the couch.
“oh my, kyujin, why didn’t you say you were back!” yn exclaimed, crossing the room in quick strides. 
“that’s no way to welcome guests!” she turned her attention to haerin, who immediately felt her cheeks grow warm as yn got closer. “how are you? was the drive okay?” yn’s voice was gentle, her words pouring over haerin like a warm breeze. “it’s a bit loud in here, i know, but it gets better, i promise.”
“uh…” haerin tried to respond, but yn cut her off with a quick pat on the head.
“i’ll go tell haewon unnie you’re here. make yourself comfortable, haerin,” yn said, shooting her a playful wink before disappearing into the kitchen.
haerin’s face was burning now, completely caught off guard by yn’s sudden warmth.while kyujin looked at her, “told you, she’s a complete sweetheart, an angry one but sweet nevertheless.”
“uh huh…” haerin barely managed to nod, still completely dazed by yn’s charm.
she had never felt this way before, but one thing was clear she was definitely coming to the nmixx dorms a lot more often.
Tumblr media
haerin wasn’t sure how it happened, but visiting the nmixx dorm had quickly become part of her routine.
at first, it was all about hanging out with kyujin and adjusting to the group’s chaos. but somewhere along the way, her visits shifted focus.
instead of looking forward to catching up with kyujin, she found herself eagerly waiting for the moments when yn would be there quietly watching her from across the room, her eyes following every movement, every smile.
soon enough, her casual drop ins had turned into regular visits. she no longer needed kyujin’s invite. the group had welcomed her, and though kyujin was oblivious, haerin was only showing up for one person.
yn.
there was something about yn her soft demeanor on the surface, contrasted with her fiery personality just beneath. one second she was all sunshine and sweet smiles, and the next, she’d be fiercely ranting about whatever bothered her that day.
haerin found it captivating, the duality of her, the rawness that not many got to see. and somehow, haerin had gotten used to those passionate rants, sitting on the edge of yn’s bed as the girl vented her frustrations about anything and everything.
today was no different.
“i mean, can you believe it?” yn practically shouted, pacing back and forth in her room. her hands were animated, cutting through the air as she spoke. “i’m out here trying my best, and they have the audacity to say that about me?”
haerin sat on yn’s bed, quietly watching her. there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips, she found yn’s fiery passion endearing.
yn's temper was always sparked by the smallest of things, someone’s comment online, a misunderstanding, or the fact that she lost in a game to lily the night before. today, it seemed like it was something she had read online, and yn was spiraling into one of her long, impassioned rants.
“they don’t know a damn thing! who do they think they are? it’s just—ugh! so annoying.” yn threw her hands up in frustration, pacing closer to haerin, her voice laced with indignation.
“and the worst part?” yn paused, finally looking at haerin, her face flushed with emotion. “i shouldn’t even care! but i do, haerin, i do.”
yn let out a frustrated sigh, dropping onto the bed next to her. their shoulders brushed, and yn turned to face her, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and vulnerability. haerin couldn’t help but be drawn in by that intensity, her heart picking up speed as yn ranted on.
before she could stop herself, haerin reached out, her hand gently resting on yn’s arm. “it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “you care because you’re passionate about what you do.”
yn looked at her, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming, replaced with something softer something that made haerin’s breath catch. for a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
then, before she could second-guess it, haerin closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against yn’s. it was tentative at first, a quiet exploration, but when yn didn’t pull away—when she kissed back just as eagerly, the kiss deepened. haerin’s hand slid up to cup yn’s cheek, her heart racing as yn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through haerin’s hair.
the moment was electric, full of everything haerin had been holding back for weeks. the fiery passion yn poured into her rants was now flowing through their kiss, both of them caught up in the intensity of the moment.
but just as quickly as it had started, the door to yn’s room swung open with a loud creak, and a voice rang out.
“unnie, have you seen—” kyujin’s words died in her throat as her eyes fell on the scene in front of her. her mouth dropped open in shock.
haerin and yn instantly pulled apart, wide-eyed and breathless, as kyujin stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mixture of confusion and surprise. the room was dead silent, save for the sound of kyujin’s sharp inhale.
“oh my god!” kyujin finally screamed, her voice echoing through the dorm. her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes still as wide as saucers. “what is happening?!”
without waiting for a response, kyujin let out another yelp and slammed the door shut with a loud bang, leaving haerin and yn alone once again, their hearts pounding in their chests.
for a few moments, neither of them moved, the tension hanging thick in the air. then yn burst into laughter, her giggles light and infectious, her face still flushed from their kiss.
“well, that’s one way to get caught,” yn said between fits of laughter, her eyes sparkling as she turned to face haerin again. “she’s never gonna let you live this down.”
haerin, still slightly dazed, let out a small, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks burning. “yeah… i wasn’t expecting that.”
yn smiled at her, the warmth returning to her expression. “i wasn’t expecting this,” she said softly, her voice taking on a gentler tone. she leaned in, brushing a stray piece of hair away from haerin’s face. “but i’m glad it happened.”
haerin felt her heart flutter at yn’s words, her breath catching in her throat. she hadn’t realized just how badly she had wanted this how much she had wanted yn.
“so,” yn whispered, her lips ghosting over haerin’s once more, “are you gonna come over just to see me from now on?”
haerin grinned, her lips curving up into a smile as she leaned in closer. “ and kyujin, but mainly you.”
before the girls lips could touch once again kyujin’s muffled voice was heard from behind the door, “I’m coming in again! and I better not see any kissing!”
322 notes · View notes
amirasainz · 1 day
Note
Could you please do reader is Charles daughter and she invites her boyfriend to a dinner with the leclercs and her uncles ( some of the grid) and the uncles and Charles are very protective over their baby and reader asked , “ can you pass the salt please daddy” and Charles AND THE BF reach for it. Charles and uncles not happy
No, stop. Why can I imagine something like that really happening? If you guys could send me some requests for Oscar, George, Lewis and Max, that would be amazing.
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-XoXo
Leclerc family dinner
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The sun was setting over Monaco, casting a golden hue through the large windows of the Leclerc family dining room. YN, Charles and Alexandra's teenage daughter, had invited her boyfriend, David, over for dinner. The table was beautifully set, reflecting the family’s love for tradition mixed with a hint of modern flair.
As everyone gathered around the table, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Charles sat at the head of the table, his protective demeanor evident as he glanced at YN with a mixture of pride and wariness. Next to him, Alexandra wore a warm smile, trying to ease the tension that always lingered whenever new boyfriends entered the family circle.
“Are you ready for this, David?” Lando teased, smirking from his seat. “Just remember, we’re not just racing fans; we’re a family of racers. We take everything seriously—especially dinner.”
David chuckled nervously, glancing at YN, who was biting her lip to suppress a laugh. “I’ll do my best,” he replied, trying to sound confident despite the palpable pressure from the Leclerc clan.
“Alright, let’s dig in!” Charles said, gesturing to the lavish spread of pasta, fresh salads, and bread. The meal began with light-hearted banter, but it was clear that Charles and the uncles had a watchful eye on David.
As the meal progressed, YN felt her heart race. She loved having David around, but she could sense her father’s scrutiny. Amidst the laughter and stories, she suddenly realized she needed the salt.
“Daddy, can you pass the salt, please?” YN asked, her voice sweet yet steady.
Both Charles and David reached for the salt at the same time. For a brief moment, silence enveloped the room as they locked eyes. Then, chaos erupted.
Charles narrowed his eyes at David. “Why did you reach for the salt?” he asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
“Uh, I—” David stammered, clearly caught off guard.
“‘Daddy’? Really?” Max chimed in, barely holding back a laugh, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I mean, that’s bold, mate.”
“Very bold,” Lando echoed, grinning. “You do realize you’re asking for trouble, right?”
“Guys, come on!” YN exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. “It was just a slip!”
Charles turned to David, arms crossed. “So, what’s your excuse? You think you can just react to ‘Daddy’ like it’s no big deal?”
“Uh, I mean, it was just a habit!” David stuttered, looking desperate for an escape. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Alexandra, sensing the rising tension, leaned in to help. “Everyone, let’s take it easy. It was an innocent mistake,” she said, her tone soothing. “David didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Trouble?” Carlos scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not just trouble; it’s a declaration of war!”
“Please, Carlos,” YN sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can we not escalate this?”
Max leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. “So, David, tell us. What were you thinking when YN said that?”
“Yeah, spill!” Lando added, winking. “We need to know if you’re worth our YN or if we should start sharpening our forks.”
“I really wasn’t thinking,” David admitted, his cheeks flushed. “I just… it felt natural? I’m sorry. I'm so so sorry!”
“Natural?” Charles echoed, his brow furrowing. “Natural? In what universe is having your girlfriend call you ‘Daddy’ natural?”
“I think we should all calm down” Alexandra interjected, trying to ease the situation, but even she felt the weight of Charles’s glare. “But maybe we should stick with first names for now?”
Charles huffed, shaking his head. “Exactly! No more pet names under my roof.”
“David,” YN interjected, her voice softer now, “just ignore them. They’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic? I’m just looking out for you, YN!” Charles shot back, a hint of protectiveness creeping into his voice. “You deserve someone who respects the family.”
“Dad, I know that!” YN replied, her frustration bubbling over. “But I’m not a child anymore. David respects me!”
“Does he, though?” Max teased, crossing his arms, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “This could be the most entertaining dinner ever!”
“Can we just finish dinner without interrogating him?” YN pleaded, her eyes darting from her father to her uncles. “He’s a great guy. Just give him a chance.”
Alexandra put a hand on YN’s arm. “Sweetheart, we’re just trying to look out for you. You know how protective they are.”
David looked at YN, his eyes pleading for support. YN looked at everyone before saying: “I swear I’ll never call him that again. Just please let’s move on.”
Charles sighed, his demeanor softening slightly. “Fine, but we’re not done discussing this.”
“Yeah, not even close,” Lando whispered dramatically to Carlos, who nodded in agreement.
As the meal continued, the laughter resumed, but there was a newfound tension beneath the surface. YN kept stealing glances at David, who was trying to blend in and not draw more attention to himself.
“Hey, David,” Carlos said suddenly, breaking the brief silence, “what’s your favorite race track? Or is that a secret now, too?”
David chuckled, grateful for the change of subject. “I think I’d have to say Monaco, obviously! It’s iconic. But honestly, the atmosphere at Silverstone is unbeatable.”
“Nice choice,” Lando replied, nodding. “But you better be prepared for the Leclerc family charm—or lack thereof.”
“More like the Leclerc family chaos,” Max added with a grin.
“Seriously,” YN murmured to David, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”
“Just promise me one thing,” David said, leaning closer to her. “If this gets any more chaotic, you’ll save me from the crossfire, right?”
“I’ll do my best,” she replied, trying to suppress a smile.
As dessert was served—a delicious chocolate mousse—Charles took a deep breath, finally relaxing. “Alright, David. You’re still on thin ice, but I suppose you can survive the evening… for now.”
The uncles laughed, and the atmosphere shifted again, returning to the warmth that filled the Leclerc home. YN felt a wave of relief wash over her. Maybe they’d all survive this dinner after all.
As the night continued, amidst playful banter and the clinking of cutlery, YN couldn’t help but think that while her family might be a bit overprotective, it was all rooted in love. And maybe, just maybe, David would become a part of this chaotic, wonderful family after all.
154 notes · View notes
pjflmga · 1 day
Text
little things, alessia russo x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: based on little things by one direction (big fan yup) where r is a bit insecure about certain things and alessia makes sure to let r know she loves everything about r.
a/n: just smth random i came up w while i’m writing on chicago p2 bc i’m currently stuck lol. wrote this in the middle of the night so don’t mind eventual mistakes… send in recs if you want to :)
wc: 2,3k ish
enjoyy
—————————————————————
you and alessia had been together for a long time now, with your 2 years anniversary coming up in only a few weeks. you loved doing things together, watching movies or series, going out for a walk or shopping. literally anything
football might be your biggest shared interest though, whether it was watching a game or playing it. but it was not hard to see who was playing professionally and who played in a normal sunday league.
alessia played football for a living, her days consisted of training on and off the pitch and of course football games against big, top teams, weekly. whereas you were working as a chef at a restaurant and only had training 2-3 times a week plus a game on the weekends.
despite the big difference of professionalism you played in, you both were each others biggest fan and supporter. you were at all arsenal’s home games and even some away games if possible, and alessia was at yours. of course if you or her didn’t have your own game at the same time, which occasionally happened.
alessia never looked down at you for not being a professional footballer, rather the other way around. she was happy and proud that you got to the two things you loved the most, cooking food during the days and playing football in the evenings. but even if alessia never had an opinion about this, didn’t mean you nor especially the fans highlighted this at times.
as you were the girlfriend of the top player and front face of the lionesses and arsenal, people didn’t shy away from sharing their ignorant opinions. when alessia saw a rude comment about you she would always delete it, before she read half of it and especially before you got the chance to even know about it. but since you were together with alessia, you had around 30k followers on instagram yourself and a lot of the ignorant comments ended up in your comment section as well.
you knew you shouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but read every single negative comment about you. it was everything from you using alessia for her being famous and having a lot of money, to not being good enough for her and being an ugly and bad person. the comments about you only “using” her didn’t really bother you, as you and not to mention, alessia knew that it wasn’t true. but it was rather the comments about you being too ugly, or not that a good enough person for her that made you feel like the smallest person on earth.
this had been going on ever since you got together and the public eye found out about it. at first it didn’t bother you, but as time went on it started to get to you. the blonde and you had talked about it before, but even if you weren’t, you always made sure to say that you were fine.
as of lately alessia had started to notice that you were feeling a bit more tired and down than usually. at first she thought it was because of your job and how hectic it was. but she shortly after realised it was because of all comments on social media.
and with that she started to make more efforts than usually to make you feel as special and loved as you deserved, not to mention how she felt about you.
————————————
as a person in general, you were a bit insecure about yourself. you didn’t like certain things with your body or the way you looked.
as time passed alessia started to figure out more of your small insecurities, how every time she tried to make a short video with you, you always stayed quiet because you didn’t like the way your voice sounded on camera.
how you never got changed in front of her, despite being together for a long, long time. because you didn’t like how your stomach or thighs looked. she obviously had seen you without clothes before, but it was different when you changed and got dressed. it made you feel more conscious about the way you looked, in a way you didn’t like and therefore didn’t want alessia to see.
but also how you recently had stopped coming along to nights out and dinners with her team, because you were insecure or what other people would think. despite alessia always telling you how much the team loved you and wanted you there.
alessia knew these things made you insecure, but these were also the things she loved about you the most. the way you looked, the way you were, the way you smiled and laughed. your voice, your body. everything.
at first she didn’t want these little things to slip out, in case it made you more insecure. but she quickly realised the best way to make you feel more comfortable and confident, was to bring your insecurities up, subtly and in a reassuring way, one by one.
every time you smiled you got small crinkles by your eyes and for some reason fans started to point that out, together with your freckled cheeks. alessia didn’t understand, as she thought those were two of the cutest things about you, but you hated them.
now when she started to see the comments more often, she realised that was the reason why you started to cover your freckles up with makeup, and at least try to smile less. not that it really worked when you were with alessia, who stumbled around and laughed all the time.
“babe, you’re so beautiful today.” alessia said as the two of you got ready to head out for a little walk in the park. “why are you putting on makeup? you’re just as beautiful without it.” she smiled softly.
“i dunno.” you mumbled. “don’t really like my freckles.” you said lowly. with that alessia walked up behind you, where you sat by the desk in your shared bedroom, and hugged you tightly from behind.
“you.” kiss. “are.” kiss. “more.” kiss. “beautiful”. kiss. “than.” kiss. “anyone.” kiss. “else. ” kiss. “in.” kiss. “the.” kiss. “world.” the blonde said as she kissed you freckles.
“stoppp less, you’re ruining my makeup.” you said, but couldn’t help but feeling a smile creeping up in the corner of your mouth.
“nooo!!” she said. “i’m just making sure your natural beauty is showing.” she continued as she bombed kisses on you again. you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “there’s the beautiful smile of yours.” alessia said simply.
it took you another 20 minutes to get ready before your headed out. instantly when you stepped out of the port of your stairwell, alessia grabbed you hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
“you know, your hands fits perfectly in mine.” the striker said softly.
“what do you mean less?” you asked confused, not quite catching what she meant.
“i don’t know, i just know it feels perfect to hold it in my hand.” she smiled with a chuckle. you nodded slowly, still not getting where she came from. but it was something with the way she had said it while squeezing your hand, that made you feel good. you felt yourself being thrown out of your thoughtss as alessia pulled you with her and started to walk towards the park, while babbling about her upcoming game against liverpool this weekend.
when you stopped in the middle of the park by a big tree alessia suggested that the two of you should make a tiktok together. a video where you’d have to rank her arsenal teammates.
“no i can’t do that.” you said with a laugh. “they’re gonna kill me.”
“noo, babe!! it’ll be fun, they will love it.” she laughed as she pulled up her phone.
“okay, just because i love you. but don’t post it!! i don’t uh, want people to hear my- to see what my ranking.” you said quietly.
“oh y/n, it’ll be fine. everyone will laugh at how pissed leah will be when she sees she’s not your number one.” alessia chuckled. “besides, everyone should get to hear that beautiful voice of yours when you explain your rankings.” she continued, subtly mentioning yet another insecurity. you instantly felt yourself relaxing a little when she said that. to be honest you hadn’t really realised that you had tensed up in the first place.
“let’s do this then, less.” you said as you grabbed her phone and started the ranking.
——————————
“i can’t believe you were about to put frida at number one.” alessia said with a grunt as you finished.
“well she is just the best, isn’t she?” you asked with a smile.
“well… no. i am supposed to be there, i swear if you weren’t with me right now, you would’ve put her as your number 1.” alessia answered with a unhappy voice.
“nooo babe, i’d never do that!!” you laughed. “you are obviously my number one!”
“and so are you y/n/n! you are my forever number one and i love you and everything about you.” the blonde said softly as she gave hugged you and kissed your cheek. “let’s post this and see how the girls reacts.” she continues as she posted the video.
just then she got a message from leah in the arsenal group chat, asking who’d be joining for dinner aka ordering food, and movie night at her place tomorrow night. a flood of “yes” and “me” came right away when alessia looked at you.
“you want to go?” she asked hopefully.
“uh i don’t know, don’t want to intrude your team bonding night.” you said lowly.
“no y/n babe, first you could never do that. the girls have been asking if you won’t being joining anytime soon anyways. and besides, it’s just movie night tmrw.” alessia explained as she took your hand and gave it a squeeze.
“well, okay then i guess.” you said.
“YESSSS!!!” the england forward squealed as she sent a quick “me and y/n are coming!” to the group chat and right away an even bigger flood of “yes!”, “wohoo” and “finally” came.
as tomorrow evening eventually came around, you and the blonde got ready together. since it was just movie night and leah’s, you wouldn’t dress up fancy. so you grabbed a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt as you headed towards your bathroom to get changed. but before you managed to take a step alessia grabbed your arm and hugged you tightly.
“you know i don’t mind you changing clothes in front of me.” she said softly as she hugged you tighter.
“i know, it’s just uh me. i don’t know, it’s stupid. of course i should be able to change in front of my girlfriend of almost two years.” you said while you let go of alessia to look into her eyes.
“baby, it’s not stupid the way you feel. i just want you to know that i love you and i love every single thing about you. i love your eyes, your smile, how you look and oh my god, have you seen your body?” she said softly and you can’t help but smile a little. “if you don’t feel comfortable to change in front of me, i won’t stop you. but i want you to feel comfortable with me, no matter what. i don’t care what other people say or think and you shouldn’t either. because you are more perfect than anyone else. okay?” alessia continued.
all you could do was just stare at your girlfriends. you realised where she was coming from with all of this, but to be honest, it made you feel better. she was right, the only opinion you really cared about was hers, and you knew how much she loved you.
“i know, i just feel so self conscious and insecure sometimes. i wish i didn’t but i can’t help but being affected by it.” you answered.
“you know love, those things you are self conscious about, are some of the things i love the most you.” she said as she once again gave you one of her famous “lessi bear hugs”.
“yeah i know less, thank you so much.” you said hugging her back. after some time you finally let go of each other and you felt truly safe and loved by the striker. you took a deep breath and actually felt comfortable enough to change in front of your girlfriend.
all alessia could do was looking at you with the proudest smile ever. she was happy that her little side mission had worked out the way she wanted to, that you felt better about yourself and also felt more comfortable around her.
what took her by surprise though was that you for the first time in a long, long time didn’t cover up your freckles with makeup. all you did was curling your eyelashes and put on some mascara. alessia once again looked at you with the biggest and proudest smile as well as heart eyes. oh, that girl was head over heels for you.
“you’re so beautiful, my girl.” alessia said with a grin.
when you 20 minutes later arrived at leah’s house and went to knock on the door, it was instantly opened by a not super happy looking leah.
“how dare you not put as number 1 and not even number 2, but 3 on your list, miss?” she said while giving you a stern look, but you could hear the teasing in her voice.
“told you…” alessia whispered in your ear lowly, with a laugh. “i’ll leave the two of you to figure this out.” she continued and walked into great the rest of the team.
“well hello to you too leah…” you laughed. “i guess i just don’t love you as much as less.”
“okay that’s fair BUT YOU PUT FRIDA OVER ME??” leah shouted.
“well, if it makes you feel any better, i almost put frida above lessi. but then i wouldn’t have had a place to sleep in.” you laughed.
after some back and forth you finally settled on a fair ranking where, spoilers, leah ended up as your number 1. then leah finally let you into her house and let you in with a happy smile over a face so you could greet the other arsenal players there.
the night was amazing, just what you needed. you felt safe around alessia and her teammates and you didn’t feel like you were in the way and disturbing them. they made you laugh all the time, and now the crinkles by your eyes didn’t bother you anymore.
even if alessia’s mission was accomplished, she didn’t stop reminding you how much she loved you. everything about you. that the little things you were subconscious about, made you to the amazing person that you were and the person alessia loved so much.
185 notes · View notes
funkyplantguy · 3 days
Note
established relationship scarian where scar finds A Creature of some sort (dealer's choice) and starts in on the whole "Can we keep it?? 🥺🥺" routine to grian
i was originally going to go with a cat, then a baby warden (listen idk) then an ACTUAL baby...then landed on this (and giggled and kicked my feet the entire time as i wrote it). hope you enjoy :D
scar: g scar: grain scar: grian scar: light of my life scar: where are you? scar: i have gift grian: fishing dock scar: shoulda guessed scar: be there soon <3
grian stretched, quietly groaning to himself as his back (and wings) crackled in delight at the movement, tired of the endless hunching they’d endured over the past several hours. a gift from scar (especially an unexpected one) was sure to be…interesting. they’d been together long enough that scar knew what grian liked, of course…but sometimes…the “gifts” his partner would bring him would be more for scar’s own personal amusement than anything else.
not that he really minded, of course. not when that meant getting to see scar light up like a kid on christmas. scar was always so full of life - always giggling over something or other - and it just reminded grian of why he’d fallen in love with him in the first place. and honestly, that was gift enough for him.
despite all of that, he wasn’t quite expecting scar to bring him something...alive.
grian heard the chirping from the small bundle in scar’s arms before the man had even landed, and couldn’t help the inquisitive trill that forced its way out of him in response. and that, of course, set scar off - mimicking the noise with his own (very human) vocal cords (which only served to produce a melody akin to being strangled). he stared at grian with wide eyes as he touched down, and grian felt his cheeks burn under his gaze.
“g! i’ve never heard you make that noise before - that was so cute, do it again!”
“no,” grian chirped back, then pressed his hand against his mouth as scar laughed in delight. “scar - what is that?”
“it’s a baby!” scar responded, moving closer and tilting the bundle in his arms towards the avian. “look - it’s a little you!”
grian uncovered his mouth to retort - he very much doubted that scar had somehow found a baby avian wandering around hermitcraft - but another quiet chirp caught his attention, and he found himself leaning forward to peer over scar’s arms. and there, nestled in a pile of soft, brown blanket, was the ugliest baby parrot grian had ever seen in his life. and yet..and yet…
grian didn’t even realize that he was whistling until the baby returned his birdsong, eager little chirps and gurgles spilling out of its little fleshy beak. it tilted its head up at grian, blinking, and grian offered up a trembling finger into the makeshift nest. the chick nuzzled against it, purring softly, and something in grian’s heart felt like it might burst. he raised his face to his partner, and found scar’s gaze transfixed - but not on the parrot in his arms, but him. their eyes locked, and scar offered him a smile - something soft and warm, something that made grian want to kiss him more than anything in the world.
“can we keep it?” he whispered, and grian let out a short (wet) laugh.
“i…scar, where…where did you even find it? it’s so little…i can’t imagine its mama would have been far; she’s probably worried sick…do you really want to take the little guy from his mama?”
scar’s lower lip wobbled (and grian felt like he might be the worst person in the entire world for it).
“he didn’t have a mama! i sat and watched and waited for hours, gri, and nobody came for him…he was just all alone, on a branch in the jungle, and i got worried that something was going to come along and eat him! and…well…i figured you’d know how to take care of him. given that you’re…y’know.”
he gestured toward grian’s colorful wings with one hand, and grian’s feathers rippled obediently in show for his lover. from scar’s arms, the tiny bird chirped again, raising its little head and struggling to flap its wings in the same way grian had fluttered his. scar looked down to the parrot, then up to grian, eyes wide and sparkling as he jutted out his lower lip.
“see! he agrees! he wants you to be his new mama!”
(and if grian’s heart fluttered in his chest at the suggestion of being a mother, that was no one's business but his own. that was a topic to be discussed later - much later, in the warmth of each other’s arms and the shield the darkness their room offered for grian's vulnerability)
“we could name him…um…jeffrey!”
“scar - we are not naming our son jeffrey.”
“our son???!??” scar parroted back, jerking his head up from where he had dipped it to stare down at the chick in his arms. “our son??? so…we can keep him? really? you mean it?”
“yes, scar. i mean it,” grian responded, smiling softly at the hopeful peep from the newest member of their little family. “we can keep him.”
(and the way scar pulled him into a kiss, then, was the greatest gift of all)
112 notes · View notes
fleming-o · 23 hours
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Behind the spotlight - Niamh Charles x Reader
request here
Award show nerves aren’t always the best
angst with comfort
---
The soft hum of the city buzzed just outside the window as you fidgeted with your cufflinks, trying to push down the tension building in the room. Niamh stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of her dress for what had to be the tenth time. Her brow was creased, lips pressed into a thin line, and her usually bright eyes were clouded with something heavier tonight.
"You look stunning, you know?" you said, stepping closer, hands hovering just inches from Niamh’s waist. You didn’t want to touch her yet—not when the air between you felt so fragile.
Niamh’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "Thanks."
The flatness of her voice cut through your chest, but you kept quiet, knowing better than to push. Niamh wasn’t usually one to show her insecurities. She was a fighter on and off the pitch, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration of that. But the way she kept glancing at her reflection, adjusting her dress, her earrings, her hair, told a different story.
After a moment of silence, you finally stepped forward, resting a hand gently on Niamh’s back. "You okay?"
Niamh’s shoulders stiffened under your touch, and you instantly regretted asking. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said quickly, too quickly.
"Are you sure?" you pressed gently, not trying to pry but unable to shake the worry.
Niamh sighed, her fingers stilling at her side. She met your eyes in the mirror, her expression hard to read. "I just... I don’t know why I’m even going tonight. It’s not like I’ve had a standout season or anything."
You blinked, taken aback. "What are you talking about? You’ve been incredible this season."
Niamh scoffed, turning away from the mirror and folding her arms across her chest. "Incredible? I barely played for half the season because of my shoulder injury, and when I did, I was hardly at my best. I don’t even know why they invited me."
Your heart ached hearing her speak like that. You stepped in front of her, gently grabbing her hands. "Niamh, you’re being too hard on yourself. You pushed through, you came back stronger, and everyone’s noticed. You deserve to be there as much as anyone else."
Niamh pulled her hands back, looking away. "I don’t feel like I do. It just feels... fake, like I’m playing a part tonight or something. All those cameras, the smiles, the awards. It’s all for people who’ve done so much more this season. Not me."
You felt frustration rising in your chest, not at her but at the situation, at how much she was doubting herself. "You’re not playing a part," you said softly. "You’ve earned this. And it’s okay to feel nervous or unsure, but you can’t let that take away from everything you’ve accomplished."
Niamh shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her. "You don’t get it. I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything. I feel like I’m just... there, you know? Filling a spot."
The room went silent, tension thick between you. You knew how much the injury had weighed on Niamh, how hard she’d worked to get back to full fitness, but hearing her like this, so vulnerable, was new. Niamh always hid it so well.
"You’re more than just a spot-filler, Niamh. You’ve fought through so much this season. That means something."
Niamh’s eyes flickered with doubt, maybe frustration, but she stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on the floor, her thoughts clearly heavy.
After a beat of silence, you sighed and stepped back. "Look, I know tonight feels big and overwhelming, but you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. We can stay home, watch a movie, whatever you need."
Niamh’s head shot up, surprise flickering across her face. "No, I—" She hesitated, her voice softening. "I want to go. I just... I don’t know how to be okay with it."
Your heart squeezed. You stepped forward again, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "Then let me help you. We’ll get through tonight together, okay?"
Niamh’s shoulders sagged slightly, her walls crumbling just a little. She nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Okay."
---
The awards night was every bit as glamorous and overwhelming as Niamh had expected. Lights flashed from all directions as you walked into the venue, cameras capturing every smile, every step. Niamh’s hand was tight in yours, her fingers cold and stiff. You could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin.
"You’re doing great," you whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as you made your way through the crowd, trying to ease some of the tension radiating off her.
She gave a small nod, but her grip on your hand only tightened.
The night passed in a blur of speeches, applause, and polished smiles. Niamh sat rigidly at your table, her eyes darting around the room, never settling for long. Every time the camera panned across the audience, she straightened up, forcing a smile you could tell wasn’t real. You squeezed her hand under the table, hoping to remind her that you were there, that she wasn’t alone in this.
When Niamh’s name was finally called for an award, you saw the flicker of panic flash across her face. She stood slowly, hesitating just long enough for the applause to feel awkward before making her way to the stage.
You watched her closely as she accepted the award, the way she held it in her hands like it didn’t belong to her, the way her voice wavered just slightly as she gave a brief thank-you speech. Niamh was always a fighter, but tonight, she looked like she was fighting against herself.
When she returned to the table, her smile was brittle, her eyes distant. You leaned in, whispering softly, "I’m so proud of you."
Niamh’s jaw clenched, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed the award on the table. "I don’t deserve this."
Your heart sank. "Yes, you do. You worked so hard to get back here. You deserve every bit of this recognition."
Niamh shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "It doesn’t feel like it. I feel like a fraud."
You wanted to argue, to tell her again how wrong she was, but you could see how fragile she was in that moment. Instead, you placed a hand gently on her thigh, grounding her. "You’re not a fraud, Niamh. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And even if you can’t see that right now, I do. I believe in you."
Niamh’s eyes filled with unshed tears, and for a moment, the mask she’d been wearing all night crumbled. She leaned into your touch, her body sagging with the weight of everything she’d been carrying.
"I don’t know how to feel better about this," she admitted quietly, her voice trembling. "I feel so... lost."
Your heart broke for her, but you stayed steady, knowing she needed you to be her anchor. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this."
Niamh nodded, her grip on your hand tightening again, this time not out of anxiety but out of gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice raw. "For everything."
You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Always."
---
Later, after the lights had dimmed and the applause had faded, you found yourselves back in your apartment. Niamh sat on the edge of the bed, the award resting on the nightstand, her gaze distant.
"You were amazing tonight," you said gently, sitting beside her. "I hope you know that."
Niamh didn’t respond right away. She stared at the award, her expression conflicted, before finally speaking. "I’m trying to believe it."
You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "You will. And until then, I’ll remind you every day."
Niamh rested her head on your shoulder, her body finally relaxing into your embrace. "I love you," she whispered, her voice soft but steady.
You pressed a kiss to her hair, your heart full. "I love you too."
And in that quiet moment, with the weight of the night behind you and the warmth of your love surrounding her, Niamh allowed herself to believe—if only just a little—that maybe, just maybe, she really did deserve it all
---
81 notes · View notes
dumblilb · 5 hours
Text
I Could Be Enough
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Vi x Fem!Reader
(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)
(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)
(Requested: yes)
(Words: 1,585)
* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。
You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.
But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.
But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.
“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.
“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.
“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.
So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.
But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.
But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.
So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.
“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.
“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.
“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.
“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.
“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.
She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.
“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.
You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.
“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.
“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.
“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.
“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.
She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.
Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.
“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.
“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.
With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.
“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.
“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.
“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.
“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”
You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.
76 notes · View notes
simplygojo · 2 days
Text
Moment on the Bench
Authors Note: This is the first bonus blurb of the The Devil He Made Me series!! This one is Gojo's POV of a scene from Chapter 6, the scene on the bench...IYKYK, lol. This can also be read on its own if, so pleaase enjoy!
Series Masterlist
Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection ; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @0-m1; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: light tensionnn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Gojo leaned back on the bench, the words that had just passed between you hanging in the cool evening air like a mist he couldn’t quite shake. His eyes, peaking over his sunglasses, were locked on yours as you sat beside him, close enough that your legs almost touched.
There was an odd tension between you, one he wasn’t used to. Usually, he could brush off anything with a joke, keep his distance emotionally, but tonight felt... different.
"Curses sense things in people," he had said, his voice softer than usual. "Sometimes for a reason, sometimes because they catch on to something we don’t even realize."
He felt a small shiver run down his spine as he heard you ask, your voice tinged with fear, "So what do you think it meant then…when it said it’s ‘almost time for me’?"
Gojo paused for a moment, staring at her. His gaze lingered longer than usual, which wasn’t like him.
The carefree glint in his eyes seemed to dull, replaced by something more intense, something he didn’t fully understand. You looked back at him, your own confusion and fear mirroring in your eyes, but Gojo couldn’t shake the strange pull he felt towards you. It was confusing.
The setting sun cast an orange glow over your face, and as he watched you, he couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable you looked—yet strong in a way he couldn’t explain. He felt something stir inside him, something unfamiliar. A feeling he couldn’t name—one he didn’t want to name.
He tilted his head toward the darkening sky, searching for words, or maybe a distraction from whatever this was. But it didn’t come. He just felt... lost.
"I wish I knew," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than usual, almost gentle. "But what I do know is that curses don’t just say things for no reason. Especially not special grades like that. Something’s up."
It bothered him—how he didn’t have all the answers, how he couldn’t brush this off with his usual cocky arrogance. It wasn’t just the curse’s cryptic message; it was the way you were looking at him, the way your fear seemed to seep into his own thoughts, twisting them, making him feel something he couldn’t quite define.
You sat beside him, and the small gap between you suddenly felt enormous, yet too close all at once. The warmth from you body made him hyperaware of your presence in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. Normally, he would’ve laughed it off, thrown in a flirty comment, but tonight…his mind was somewhere else.
“Whatever it saw in you,” he continued, trying to regain some control over the situation, “you really don’t need to worry about it—you shouldn’t worry about it at least.”
But even as he said it, Gojo could feel the weight of the words. He wanted to protect you. That’s what this was, right? Just his usual protective instinct? You was important—you had to be protected, that’s all this was. 
He told himself that over and over, but something in his chest twisted uncomfortably. It felt like a lie.
And then you snapped.
“You’re really telling me not to worry!?” Your voice was heated, frustration bubbling over. Gojo didn’t flinch, but inside, something tensed. You was right—he knew that. He’d felt it too, the way that curse had singled you out, the cryptic warning that had set his mind on edge. But more than that, he hated how hearing your voice laced with anger affected him.
He tried to respond—his mind was racing, searching for the right words, for the usual quick-witted retort he always relied on. It was his defense, his shield against anything too serious, too real. 
He was waiting for an opening, a chance to steer the conversation back to familiar ground, where he could mask everything with a smile, a tease, something lighthearted. 
But the moment you yelled his name, something inside him shifted.
It wasn’t just the sound of it, though that alone felt like a jolt straight to his core. No, it was the way you said it—so full of frustration, maybe even anger, but laced with something else he couldn’t quite place. The way you called out his name, not ‘Gojo’ like everyone else, but Satoru—it was personal. 
Intimate, in a way that startled him.
His breath caught in his throat, the sharpness of your voice slicing through his usual cool exterior. 
He’d been so used to brushing everything off, playing it safe behind that mask of nonchalance. 
But now, hearing his name like that, the walls he’d carefully built over the years felt weaker, as if you had just reached in and pulled at the strings that held them together.
“I don’t like it when you say it like that.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the sadness in his tone catching him off guard. What the hell was this? Why did it bother him so much that you said his name like that—so angry, so distant?
Your confusion mirrored his own, your frustration disappearing as you looked at him, stunned. 
“Satoru?” You said, your voice softer now, more like how you usually said it. And just hearing his name like that again sent a strange warmth through him, a feeling he didn’t know how to process.
“Yes, when you’ve said it before, you said it so nicely, so softly, it sounded so good hearing my name come from you.”
His own words surprised him, and for a moment, Gojo felt raw, exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. Vulnerability wasn’t something he dealt with. It wasn’t something he could deal with—at least, not well. He always had his humor, his arrogance, his strength to shield him. 
But now, in this moment, sitting here beside you, none of that seemed to work.
There was a long pause, the weight of his confession sinking into the silence between you. 
He felt your eyes on him, searching for something in him he wasn’t sure he could give. His pulse quickened, and Gojo, the invincible, the strongest sorcerer alive, suddenly felt small, unsure.
The space between you shrank, and though he hadn’t moved, it felt as if the air itself was pulling you closer together. He reached out before he even realized what he was doing, his hand gently resting above your knee. 
Your warmth seeped into his fingertips, grounding him in a way that felt both foreign and necessary. The moment his palm made contact, a surge of warmth radiated from your skin, grounding him in a way that felt both foreign and deeply necessary.
Your warmth wasn’t just physical—it seemed to seep into him, anchoring him in the present, something he wasn't used to.
“I’m telling you not to worry because I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice low and serious. The promise in his words felt heavier than he intended, more intimate. There was something unspoken there, something that went beyond duty or protection, but he couldn’t put a name to it. 
It scared him—how deep that feeling ran.
You looked at him, your breath catching as your eyes met again, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you. Gojo’s heart raced, an unfamiliar sensation tightening in his chest. 
His gaze flickered down to your lips, slightly parted in an ‘o’ shape. He tried to hold your eyes—tried to keep the casual confidence intact—but his attention faltered for a split second, and his eyes dipped lower.
They lingered, just for a moment, on your lips. The briefest glance, yet it was enough to ignite something in him, a spark he hadn’t anticipated. His mind raced ahead, imagining what it would feel like to close the distance between you, to let this strange tension unfold into something real. The thought lingered longer than it should have, and his gaze snapped back up to meet yours.
But the damage was done. Now, that image was burned into his mind—what it might be like if he let himself give in, if he let the weight of this unspoken tension pull him forward. 
But then, as if sensing the line he desperately wanted to cross, you pulled away.
“Thanks for your help,” you said, your voice awkward, as if trying to erase the moment. You shifted, the connection between them breaking, as you yanked your legs away, and Gojo blinked, the intensity of the moment fading, leaving him feeling... empty.
He chuckled, his usual smirk returning to his face as he leaned back on the bench. "Right... You never have to worry when you’re around me. I’m the best the jujutsu world has to offer."
But even as the words left his mouth, they felt hollow.
But as you stood up in front of him, something about the way you looked down at him made his bravado falter just a bit. 
He didn't show it, of course—he never did. He just leaned back, his arms spread casually over the length of the bench, his gaze lazily following your movements. His eyes lingered on you—on the way the soft light from the nearby lamppost illuminated your figure, casting a gentle glow over your skin. 
You were standing so close, so pretty in front of him, and for a brief moment, he felt an odd flutter in his chest, like something shifting under the surface.
“Well, I’m gonna get going,” you said, and his gaze snapped back to your face. “Shoko says I should still be resting when I can.” 
You gestured toward the direction of the dorms, and Gojo just nodded, his usual smirk still in place. He watched you for a moment longer, letting his head tilt back slightly against the bench, trying to play it cool even as his heart felt strangely off-beat.
"Goodnight, Satoru," you said, and that’s when it hit him.
The way you said his name—soft, almost teasing, with a knowing smile—it made something in his chest go pang. It wasn’t loud, not something that would make his heart race in the usual way, but it was there. It was like a ripple spreading through calm water, disrupting the steady rhythm of his thoughts. His cocky grin faltered for the briefest moment, and he caught himself staring at you longer than he should have.
You turned, your gaze lingering on him for just a beat too long before you started walking back toward the school, and Gojo was left sitting there, arms draped casually over the bench but feeling anything but casual on the inside. 
His eyes followed you as you walked away, the echo of your voice still playing in his head.
Satoru. 
The way you said his name—it was different. There was something in it, something that tugged at him, made him want to get up and follow you. His heart, which had always felt invincible, seemed to stutter for just a moment, that odd tightness from earlier returning. 
It was subtle, but it was enough to make him wonder—enough to make him realize that you had the ability to make him feel something more than the cocky, all-powerful sorcerer he always was.
Gojo leaned back fully, forcing the grin to stay on his face as if nothing had changed. 
But as you disappeared from view, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. And for once, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Tumblr media
66 notes · View notes
starsenha · 9 hours
Text
UNDERSTANDING / P.J
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing ◊ fem!reader x bf!jay
Genre ◊ fluff, established relationship
Warnings ◊ talk about bad mental health, just jay being a sweetheart I'm sobbing
Word count ◊ 1k
Summary ◊ you were so greateful to have a such understanding boyfriend by your side.
a/n: felt really mentally bad a few days ago so this bloomed in my mind hehe, enjoy!
Tumblr media
You had been looking forward to your date with Jay all week. The plan was simple: a walk around the park, grabbing some ice cream, and maybe catching a movie later. But when the morning came, you woke up feeling… off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t felt this way before—this heavy, gray feeling that made everything seem distant—but it was the last thing you wanted on a day like today.
You stared at your phone, fingers hovering over the screen. It felt wrong to cancel, especially since you and Jay had been planning this. But at the same time, the thought of putting on a happy face, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t, felt exhausting. Jay knew about your struggles with mental health; you had talked about it before. But still, there was always that small voice in your head whispering that you were being a burden.
With a deep breath, you finally typed out the message.
[you] Hey, would it be okay if we postponed the date today?
You hit send before you could overthink it, your heart racing as you waited for his response. Within a minute, your phone buzzed.
[Songie 💙] Of course, baby! Are you okay?
You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tracing the edge of your phone as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to lie, but you also didn’t want to dump all your emotions on him. Finally, you decided to just be honest.
[you] I’m not really feeling like myself today. Kind of out of it, and I don’t want to bring any negativity to our date. I don’t want to bother you.
The response came quickly, like he was waiting for your message.
[Songie 💙] Hey, you are NEVER a bother. I mean that. I’d be happy to spend time with you, even if you’re not feeling okay.
A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked back the sudden sting of tears. You knew Jay cared, but sometimes it still caught you off guard how understanding he was.
Before you could reply, another message came through.
[Songie 💙] Actually… can I come over? I really want to see you, even if we don’t do anything. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just want to be there with you.
You smiled softly at his words, though you were still unsure. The idea of just… being with someone without having to pretend to be fine sounded comforting, but you didn’t want him to feel like he had to take care of you.
[you] Are you sure? I’m really not in the mood to talk much. I was just going to stay in and watch my comfort show.
You didn’t have to explain what your comfort show was. Jay knew. It was the one you always turned to when you were feeling down, something familiar and soothing.
[Songie 💙] Of course I’m sure. I’ll be happy just to see your pretty little face.
A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself. Jay always knew how to make you feel a little lighter, even when everything else felt heavy.
[Songie 💙] I’ll come over in a bit. Want me to pick up something for you? I can grab your favorite from that fast food place you love. I know you probably haven’t eaten.
That hit deeper than you expected. He knew. He always seemed to know when you were struggling, even when you hadn’t said much. The thought of food hadn’t even crossed your mind until he mentioned it, and now that he did, you realized how hungry you were. But more than that, it was the fact that he was offering to take care of you in such a simple, thoughtful way that made your chest tighten with emotion.
[you] Okay. That sounds nice. Thanks, songie.
Jay: Don’t mention it. I’ll be there soon.
You put your phone down and leaned back against the couch, feeling a little less tense now that you didn’t have to worry about the date. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Jay—it was the opposite. You just didn’t want to be a weight on him, to drag down what was supposed to be a fun day. But Jay… he never made you feel like that. Not once.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Jay standing there with a warm smile and a bag of food in one hand. His hair was a little messy from the wind, and he was wearing that hoodie you always said you liked on him.
"Hey, baby," he said softly, stepping inside. "I brought you your favorite."
The smell of fries and a burger filled the room, and your stomach growled. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this. You smiled gratefully and took the bag from him.
"Thank you," you mumbled, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.
"Of course," he said, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. "I’m just happy to see you."
You led him to the couch, where you had already set up your comfort show on the TV. Jay kicked off his shoes and settled in next to you, close enough that your legs brushed against each other, but not so close that it felt overwhelming. He handed you the food, and as you unwrapped your burger, he pressed play on the show.
For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the familiar show filling the room. Jay didn’t push you to talk, didn’t ask you how you were feeling. He just… sat with you, sharing the space in that gentle, understanding way that only he could.
After a while, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, and you felt the tension in your body start to melt away, just a little. It wasn’t that everything was suddenly okay—it wasn’t. But having Jay there, quietly watching your favorite show with you, made things feel a little more bearable.
"You know," he said quietly after a while, his voice barely above a whisper, "I’m always here for you. Even on the hard days. Especially on the hard days."
You didn’t say anything, but you reached for his hand and squeezed it, your heart full of gratitude.
He squeezed back, and that was enough. You didn’t need words right now. You had Jay, and that was more than enough.
62 notes · View notes
Text
Red Hot Ghouls 14 part 2/2
Masterpost 
Danny had kind of ignored the most important part of that initial message. Crud. Of course the poor bastard wanted to know about the progress on their spiritual separation. Danny cringed. He typed fast to send a new message before Jason could ask again.
It did not come out easily. He wrote and deleted two drafts before he groaned aloud. “I am not prepared to tell him that the options so far are either to marry and divorce me or to get his ass banished from the ghost dimension.” Danny spent a moment pitying himself. “I just have to say the truth.”
Cringe. Cringe so hard. 
I have two possible solutions but they both suck really hard. :/ Suck so hard you’d be shook. The suckage would change your life.
Jason sent back ellipses. It belatedly occurred to Danny that it might have looked like he was making a blowjob joke. He put the phone back on his chest and stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering why he was this way.
“Jason didn’t see that,” Danny told himself. “Jason is a professional. A professional something. I don't know what.” 
He wanted to believe it so badly that he just decided not to be mortified. Danny lifted the burner phone back up and painstakingly assembled a shrug emoji from symbols. 
Honestly they’re such bad options that I don’t even wanna tell you. Can we change the subject? : (
Jason sent back a series of laughing and crying emojis and then, Fine. Let’s talk about all the other stuff we have in common.
Danny pursed his lips. “...Do we have anything in common?” It wasn’t like he knew much about the guy, but he presumed Jason kept himself busy with some boring adult job, building muscle, and biking around looking hot. Danny crossed his legs at the knee and tried not to think of what a twig he looked like in comparison to Jason. He didn’t feel bad about it, honestly. Danny was too busy to make fitness a part of his personality and he had nothing to prove.
I’m illiterate, he settled on as a response. They definitely did not have a love of literature in common. What else did people do? I uh…. Watched a movie two years back.
Any good?
T’was shit, Danny admitted. Hm. He frowned. “I’m not sure where to take this conversation,” he said aloud.
I’m so hungry. Just got off work and I’m trying to decide what to do.
“Oh, I can do something with that.” Danny felt better. Yeah me too, I would kill for an enchilada. He tried to send a ghost emoji and groaned when he remembered that this was a shitty burner phone with no keyboard downloaded and apparently no access to the app store. Jason had already responded by the time that he gave up.
Ghosts eat Mexican food?
They would if they have human zone money, Danny sent back morosely. Oh no, it wasn’t fun anymore. Ya boy can’t pay in the tears of the damned anywhere on this plane of existence smh. His stomach growled with obnoxious timing. He groaned. The last thing he’d eaten had been that sandwich with Jazz. He could cook… He really should cook. 
Ugh. Effort. 
Danny tried to motivate himself up to the kitchen. “It’s four steps,” he said aloud, trying to be encouraging. “I can make it.”
Ah. No. That was actually kind of depressing. He lived in a shoebox with a monthly grocery budget that was just pitiful.
Haha ur broke, Jason sent, because he was a massive bitch. Danny felt a lot better about flipping him off. But then Jason followed it up with an obviously insincere, I’d get you enchiladas if you were in Gotham. Sucks to suck.
Danny sensed weakness to exploit.
“You’re going to regret that,” Danny grimly promised, and hit the call button.
Jason picked up on the second ring, sounding confused and electronic. “Hey?”
“I can be in Gotham for enchiladas,” Danny threatened. His stomach growled again. “You feeling brave? Huh? Huh?” He punched a finger at the air in accusation. “I’m not scared of you or your dank gargoyles, leatherboy.”
There was a weird mechanical sound. Maybe a snort? A laugh? “I’ll send you a GPS point, if you’re there in ten I’ll buy you all you can eat.”
Danny went still like the predator he was. “Bring your life savings.” He hit the end call button and launched himself off the couch to go stuff his feet into his shoes. He let his apartment door slam shut behind him carelessly. He’d made it to the ground level before the pin point landed.
“Fuck, it’s even in my neighborhood.” Danny laughed, flush with petty victory. He looked left, right, and went invisible before he went ghost. There was no one around at this late hour to see him drop off the visible spectrum.
62 notes · View notes
jeonscatalyst · 2 days
Note
What difference do you think we would have gotten to see if it wasn't jk with jm but let's say tae? I'm only using tae as an example cause he's the same age as jimin so the 95-97 remains there and the "dynamics change because of age" reason wouldn't be there. Or else i would have used other members as an example
TK bicker too, jungkook was teasing tae (Basically when vmk are together it's fixed that one of them is going to get ganged up by the other two, happens with TK-Jm, Jkk-TH, Vmin-JK so that's a given. He was considerate of tae as well given he was asking him to join when tae was on the phone or when he said to let's eat near tae even before he knew tae was unwell. It's of course basic manners to make ur supposed guest feel involved and they both did. he also said jeju was better because tae was there so i was just wondering what difference would it have made in the show if it was a TK show. like we obviously would have gotten them enjoying their time doing all the activities and I'm sure they know how to hangout without a third party involved so i kinda don't see much difference so it would be nice to see a different pov.
Hi anon,
I think we can only try to imagine how different things would have been if it was just Jk and Tae because we unfortunately have rarely seen just the two of them interacting for that long without other people as buffers and the few times we did get to see them together without any other members like the Taekook Carnation Vlive of 2020 and their joint instagram Live last year, it wasn’t really anything to write home about in my opinion.
Pre 2016 taekook together would have been pure comedy gold in my opinion because those two were hilarious and so much fun together when they were younger. They had amazing chemistry and knew how to go with the flow with each other so well but I don’t think things remained the same after they grew up and matured over the years. I think that biggest thing which made them to be able to relate to each other so much was not there as much anymore so things became a little strained.
Taekook can definitely hang out with each other without other people but I don’t think they can do it for as long as Jimin and Jungkook do it. Take AYS episodes 3-5 for example. Things were so much fun when the three guys had all those fun activities to do on the first day. They had climbing, racing, motorbike riding, it was so entertaining to watch all 3 of them having so much fun and just running around like 5 year olds but look at what happened the moment those fun physical activities were done. Tae was literally almost always on his phone and barely interacted with Jikook. While at the restaurants jikook were the ones always talking with each other while tae was either on his phone or was quiet. Even back at home after their day’s activities, he usually went to bed much earlier than Jimin and Jungkook while these two stayed up and just found fun in whatever silly thing they were doing. This, is the difference between taekook and Jikook.
When there is physical activity which they consider fun, taekook gel so well and could be so interesting to watch but one of them tends to lose some interest after a while or gets tired and retires while one is still in the mood to play around. This doesn’t happen with Jikook. Jikook don’t necessarily need a lot of physical fun activities to have fun together because they know how to create their own fun in any situation they are in. They know how to talk and laugh about the most random things, they have an insane amount of inside jokes, and more often than not, you would see them making decisions on what to do together. They also don’t always feel the need to fill the silence with noise. They are very capable of just being by each other without saying or doing much and would not feel bored but when you look at how tae was in episode 4 and 5 after the physical activities (plus his neck pain) it isn’t hard to see that he probably had, had enough. So imagine the show with just taekook in a situation like this. Tae probably spending alot of time on his phone, taekook barely saying anything to each other while eating at restaurants, Tae wanting to go to bed way earlier than Jk who is still hyper and just wants to play around and when you add to the fact that both of them are not big talkers, then you can imagine what it would be like.
Jimin is very good at starting and holding conversations and keeping things interesting with words. I don’t think Tae is good at this and Jk isn’t either but the thing is, when Jk is with Jimin, he talks more, he is such a yapper around Jimin but he is quieter with Tae probably because Tae doesn’t talk much either.
I can see how him being with Jikook in Jeju might have made things better because at the end of the day, things are always more fun with more people. There’s more laughter, more fun ideas etc so I think that is what Jk meant and Jimin too said he was able to run around like a kid again thanks to Tae. Jimin and Jungkook are the two who like doing more mundane and probably “boring” things together. They have always liked staying up late at nights doing the most unserious things together and it is so much fun for them while taekook are the ones who actually like doing fun recreational activities together. Jimin and Jungkook could be locked up together in an empty room and they would still find something fun to do. That is the difference anon.
Bottom line here is that Jk, Jimin and Taehyung are all friends. They all love and care about each other. Jk loves Tae and he loves Jimin too, he is also very close to both of them but Jk just relates or gels with both of them in very different ways. Just because they are all close doesn’t mean they have the exact same kind of closeness with each other. There are certain things that Jungkook might feel are better with Tae and others that he feels are better with Jimin. I think Jungkook prefers doing the extra fun outdoor activities with Taehyung, while he enjoys the more mundane or subtle things with Jimin. He just likes talking with Jimin, being silly with him, or just doing nothing with him. So with Jimin and Jungkook we would probably still see them doing just fine with little to no activity but with Taehyung and Jungkook, we probably need activities to actually see them gel well with each other. That is what I think the difference would be anon, based on everything I know about them and also what we saw on AYS.
Taekook actually don’t bicker much and based on what I have seen, one person usually gets upset when some jokes/ teasing gets too far. Think of Tae straight up getting upset and telling Jk not to take things too far when Jk joked about him being weak or how tae got mad and Jimin made Jk apologize back in 2019 when Tae was trying to say something during a Live but Jk told him that what he was about to say wasn’t important at that moment. Taekook are not used to bickering with each other like Jikook are so while Jikook would laugh about certain things when they joke with each other, Taekook wouldn’t. So you cannot even compare taekook bickering to Jikook’s. Jikook have been used to roasting each other since their rookie days, it is fun for them.
These are just my opinions though anon. Other people might see things differently.
67 notes · View notes