#seeing all of those reunions and thinking about what you lost | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riaki · 6 months

Note

ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

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pucksandpower · 4 months

Text

Prove Them Wrong

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: when an invitation to your high school reunion arrives, you are ready to throw it in the garbage … but your husband convinces you to go and prove them wrong

Happy Charles Leclerc contract extension day to all who celebrate 🫶

The invitation arrives in the mail on a Tuesday morning. You’ve just finished your coffee and are clearing the breakfast dishes when you see it — that familiar crest imprinted on the thick, creamy stationary. Your five-year high school reunion.

Immediately, your stomach drops. You haven’t thought about high school in years, haven’t had any contact with your classmates in just as long. Those weren’t the easiest years for you. In fact, they were some of the hardest.

You were shy, quiet, a bit awkward. You never quite fit in with the popular crowd, though you longed to. Much of your time was spent alone, lost in books and music, wishing you could break out of your shell. The kids were cruel in their exclusion. You still remember the whispers, the laughter at your expense, the feeling of being an outsider looking in.

After graduation, you left it all behind without a backward glance. You built a new life, one where you finally found your place. You have a successful career, an amazing husband, a beautiful home. You’ve traveled the world, experienced things you could have never imagined as that geeky teen.

Yet holding the invitation in your hands, the old insecurities come flooding back. Could you really face those people again? The ones who looked through you like you were invisible? Who made you feel small?

You’re lost in thought when Charles comes into the kitchen. He kisses your cheek and asks what’s wrong. Wordlessly, you hand him the invitation.

He glances at it and understanding dawns on his face. “Ah, a reunion. I take it you’re not thrilled?”

You shake your head. “I hated high school. The kids were really mean. I don’t know if I can go back there and face them again.”

Charles pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry you went through that, love. Kids can be terribly cruel.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “You know, this might be a good chance to show them how wrong they were about you.”

You give him a skeptical look and he continues. “Think about it — you’re not that shy girl anymore. You’ve accomplished so much, you have an amazing life. Maybe going back will give you some closure. A chance to prove to yourself and to them how far you’ve come.”

“I don’t know ...” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “You are an incredible woman. You have nothing to feel insecure about. I know it won’t be easy, but I think this could be good for you. Let them see the strong, successful person you’ve become. And I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Maybe he’s right. This could be an opportunity to flip the script, to rewrite the ending to that difficult chapter of your life.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Let’s do it.”

Charles grins and pulls you in for a real embrace now. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Over the next few weeks, you have moments of confidence mixed with waves of doubt. Charles is a constant source of reassurance. The night before the reunion, your nerves are frayed.

“What if they’re still awful? What if all those old feelings come rushing back the moment I see them?” You fret as you get ready for bed.

Charles takes your hands, his gaze earnest. “I know you’re scared, chérie. But don’t forget — you’re not alone now. I’ll be by your side the whole time. And if anyone says one nasty thing, we’ll walk right out that door, okay?”

You smile gratefully at him. “Okay. Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know if I could do this without you.”

He kisses you softly. “You’ve got this. Get some rest, mon cœur.”

***

In the morning, you take extra care getting ready, donning an elegant dress and styling your hair just so. Looking in the mirror, you remind yourself that you belong in these clothes, in this life.

The reunion is at your old high school, in the gymnasium. As you walk in hand-in-hand with Charles, the smells hit you first — sweat and sneakers, just like you remember. There are balloons and streamers, a table of snacks and drinks. And clustered together, familiar faces you haven’t seen in five years.

Your heart begins to pound. Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this,” he murmurs. Then you lift your chin and step forward to greet your past.

As you scan the room, you recognize faces that used to fill the halls of your high school. Some look familiar, unchanged by the passing years. Others you barely recognize at all.

You steel yourself as a group of giggling girls comes into view — the former popular clique. Lindsay, Heather, and Bethany. Once the queens of the school, rulers of all they surveyed.

Lindsay spots you first. Her overly plumped lips curl into a smirk. “Well, look who it is. Little Y/N Y/L/N.”

You squeeze Charles’ hand tighter as that old childhood instinct to shrink kicks in. But you lift your chin and meet Lindsay’s gaze head-on. “Lindsay. Hello.”

Her eyes flick dismissively over you before landing on Charles. They widen, lips parting. Of course she recognizes him — his face is rarely out of the public eye.

“Y/N!” Bethany exclaims with obviously fake delight. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

You allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. “Of course. This is my husband, Charles Leclerc.”

Charles gives them a polite nod. “Pleasure to meet you ladies.”

The mean girls’ jaws drop in unison. You can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the impressed once-overs they give Charles.

Heather recovers first, plastering on a sycophantic grin. “The pleasure’s all ours! What a lovely surprise.” She touches Charles’ arm lightly. “We would love to catch up and hear all about your life, Y/N.”

You catch Charles’ eye. His lips twitch, seeing right through them.

“That’s kind of you to offer,” you say smoothly. “If you’ll please excuse us, I see some other classmates I’d like to greet.”

You steer Charles away, leaving them sputtering. As soon as you’re out of earshot, he chuckles. “Well, they certainly changed their tune quickly.”

“Once they realized they could get something from me now,” you reply wryly.

You make small talk with a few classmates, keeping it surface-level. Charles’ presence by your side is bolstering. With him here, you’re reminded that you have nothing to prove to these people. Your worth isn’t defined by their approval.

After grabbing drinks, you scan the room again. Your stomach sinks as your eyes land on a familiar figure — Brad Collins. Handsome as ever, surrounded by a gaggle of admirers.

Brad was your biggest crush all through high school. You pined for him secretly, knowing he was way out of your league. He never gave you the time of day — too focused on football, parties, and whichever popular girl caught his eye that week.

“Everything okay?” Charles asks, noticing your expression.

You nod tightly. “My old crush is here.”

Charles spots him and understanding crosses his face. He presses a kiss to your temple. “His loss, mon amour.”

At that moment, Brad looks up and notices you. His stare is cold, dismissive. He says something to his friends and they erupt in laughter, eyes cutting your way.

Your cheeks burn. Some things never change.

Charles’ jaw tightens. He takes your hand firmly and starts steering you toward Brad and his posse.

You glance at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going over to say hello,” he replies calmly.

“Charles, you don’t have to ...”

He silences you with a look. “Trust me.”

You swallow hard and nod. Brad watches you approach with that familiar cocky smirk.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawls as you come to stand before him. “Never thought I’d see you at one of these things, Y/L/N.”

You stare him down unwaveringly. “Yes, well, people can surprise you.”

Brad’s gaze slides to Charles, brows lifting. You can see him trying to place how he might know this handsome, expensively dressed man by your side.

“Brad, this is my husband, Charles Leclerc,” you say sweetly.

Brad’s smirk disappears. His friends gape between you and Charles.

“Husband, huh?” Brad says after a pause, regaining his bravado. “Well, congratulations. Didn’t know you had it in you to land a guy like this.”

Fury rises in you, but before you can respond, Charles steps forward. His voice is pleasant but his eyes are steel.

“Clearly you don’t know much about my wife at all. But that’s your loss. I’m the lucky one who gets to experience her incredible heart and mind every day.”

Brad flushes under Charles’ stare. An awkward beat passes.

Charles continues calmly, “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. I just hope you realize what an opportunity you missed out on back then. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

He turns, guiding you away and leaving Brad speechless behind you. Your eyes shine as you gaze up at Charles.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

He grins. “Feel free to tell me again. And I meant every word.” He nods over at Brad’s group, now whispering furiously. “Hopefully that wipes the smirk off his face.”

You laugh, leaning up to kiss Charles’ cheek. “This turned out to be good advice after all. Thank you for being here, for reminding me who I am now.”

The rest of the reunion passes uneventfully. You mingle, laugh, and share stories with classmates who weren’t part of the toxic popular crowd. They’re welcoming and kind. For the first time, you feel like you’re reconnecting with peers, not tormentors.

As you and Charles get into the car to drive home, you let out a long, satisfied breath. The demons of your past have been conquered for good. You faced your bullies and they’re the ones who were left lacking.

You squeeze Charles’ hand, your heart full of gratitude. “Let’s go home.”

***

The adrenaline rush from the reunion slowly fades as you and Charles drive to your hotel. You lean your head back against the leather seat, letting out a long exhale.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asks, glancing your way.

You consider the question. “Good,” you realize with some surprise. “Really good actually.”

Charles smiles. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You shake your head slowly. “I can’t believe I almost didn’t go. Thank you for pushing me to face them. It was so empowering to see their reactions, to realize how little I care about their opinions now.”

“You did all the hard work,” he reminds you. “I just gave you a little nudge. I’m so proud of you, chérie.”

Warmth spreads through you at his words. Not for the first time, you feel a rush of gratitude that this man chose you, sees you, loves you exactly as you are.

Once in your suite, Charles makes you a cup of chamomile tea and you curl up together on the couch. You rest your head on his shoulder, replaying the events of the night in your mind.

“Do you think they’ll actually learn anything from tonight?” You ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “All those kids who were so terrible — will seeing me change their perspectives at all?”

Charles considers this, running his fingers idly through your hair. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it gave them something to think about, but some people never grow out of that mindset. The important thing is that you held your head high and didn’t let them make you feel small.”

You nod slowly. “I think if I could go back and tell my teenage self that this night would come, it would have made those years a little more bearable. Knowing I would come through it stronger. That I would have you by my side.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll remind you as often as you need. Though for what it’s worth, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’ve always had an inner strength, even if it took time to fully embrace it. Those kids certainly didn’t put it there.”

You smile up at him. “Have I mentioned lately that you always know exactly what to say?”

He chuckles. “Once or twice.”

You talk softly as the evening winds down, the tea warming you from the inside out. Your reunion with the ghosts of high school is finally behind you. It’s time to let go of the last lingering traces they have over you.

Over the next week, life returns to its normal rhythm. You throw yourself back into work, energized by a new sense of confidence and peace. Every day the experience recedes further into the past.

Until the phone call comes.

You’re just sitting down to lunch when your cell lights up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment you simply stare at it, perplexed.

After a brief internal debate, you answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Lindsay chirps in an overly bright voice. “How are you, hon?”

You hold the phone away from your ear, making a face at her faux familiarity. “I’m fine. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask evenly.

“Well, I was just calling to see if we could get together! You know, have a little reunion of our own. I’d love to catch up outside of that whole silly event.”

You nearly choke on your water. “You would?”

“Of course!” Lindsay laughs airily. “I barely got to talk to you. And I’d love to spend more time with that charming husband of yours ...”

Ah. There it is. You have to stifle an eye roll.

“That’s … kind of you to offer,” you say carefully. “But I’m afraid our schedules are pretty busy at the moment.”

“Oh, I’m sure we could find the time!” She presses. “I would love to take you two to dinner. My treat!”

Tempting as that is, you have zero desire to spend more time with this woman, despite her transparent new interest in you.

“Appreciate the invitation, but I’ll have to pass,” you say, your tone final. “Take care, Lindsay.”

You hang up before she can protest further. Shaking your head, you go back to your salad. Some things never change.

When Charles gets home, you regale him with the bizarre phone call. He looks equally astonished.

“She actually asked you to dinner? Just to get closer to me?” He gives an incredulous laugh.

You grin ruefully. “Yep. I guess you made more of an impression than we realized.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. Then his expression turns thoughtful.

“You know what? I think we should take her up on that offer after all.”

You stare at him. “What? Why?”

His eyes glint mischievously. “Because I’d like to make it very clear what I think of people who treat you so poorly. And a free dinner out sounds lovely.”

You can’t help but laugh at his unexpected scheming side. “Look at you, getting all protective and devious! I have to admit, it would be gratifying to knock her off her pedestal a bit more.”

Charles winks. “That’s what I was thinking.”

And so, despite your better judgment, you call Lindsay back and accept her invitation to dinner that weekend.

You take more care than usual getting ready, playing up your most striking features. Charles looks unfairly handsome in his designer suit, hair perfectly tousled just to annoy Lindsay further.

When you arrive at the trendy upscale restaurant she chose, Lindsay is already there waiting. She air-kisses your cheeks in greeting, fawning over you and Charles effusively.

As the meal begins, she dominates the conversation, barely letting you get a word in. She name-drops shamelessly, trying to impress Charles with all her supposed connections.

“Oh Charles, you simply must come stay at our villa in Positano sometime! I’d be happy to arrange it for you both. Anything for Y/N’s hubby!” She titters, touching his arm.

You and Charles exchange subtle amused looks across the table. When the waiter appears for your order, Charles gives him an easy smile.

“My wife will have the scallops and I’ll take the filet. Oh, and send over your most expensive bottle of champagne, please. My treat tonight.”

Lindsay’s smile freezes. You bite back a grin, catching his eye again. Message received.

As dinner winds down, Charles finally turns the tables on her. “So Lindsay, what have you been up to since high school? Y/N tells me you two were quite close.”

Lindsay flushes, flustered. “Oh … well, you know, this and that!” She forces a laugh. “I’m in between ventures at the moment. But I stay very busy with charity work and running in social circles.”

“How lovely for you,” Charles says neutrally. “And your husband? What does he do?”

“I’m, uh, not married,” she mumbles, clearly off-kilter now.

“I see. Well, I’m sure the right man will come along someday.” He smiles placidly. “Everyone deserves to feel that kind of love, don’t you agree?”

Lindsay just nods, face pinched. You stifle a satisfied smile behind your napkin.

Later in the car, Charles grins over at you. “That was entertaining.”

You lean over and kiss his cheek. “Have I mentioned you’re the best husband ever?”

He laughs. “A few times. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

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zvdvdlvr · 4 months

Note

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair.

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack?

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple.

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked.

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety.

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.”

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days.

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible.

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well.

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed.

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either.

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi.

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world.

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared.

Emily never remembered seeing you scared.

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her.

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace.

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered.

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race.

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room.

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward.

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck.

You were home.

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

Text

love will find a way

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Azul, Vil

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 3.6k+

Notes: for cohesiveness sake, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Yoshikazu (義和) with 義 meaning "righteous" and 和 meaning "harmony, peace"

your son had straight strawberry-red hair and greyish-blue eyes that reminded you of the stormy skies

Riddle's strong belief in upholding the rules, as well as his desire for peace and order, made the name perfect for your boy

he strives for perfection in everything he does, and has a strong attention to detail and dislikes anything that falls short of his high standards

he is slightly shy with strangers, but he's always polite and tries to be helpful

he likes to act mature so you won’t have to worry too much about him, but he not so secretly craves your affection and praise

if you don’t give him a goodnight kiss, he’ll stare at you with puppy eyes thinking he did something wrong

under your guidance, he’s actually rather helpful in the kitchen, although he can easily get upset when he thinks he did a poor job or wasn’t precise enough

in those moments, you often show him that not everything has to be absolutely perfect

see? the strawberry tart still tastes delicious, right?

he’s also rather quick at learning, and when you’re unsure about the magic concepts or formulae in your foggy memory, let him work at it for a bit and somehow, boom, he’s solved it

he tries to hide it, but his eyes are sparkling with admiration when you told him about the dedicated and fair man Riddle is, and he really wants to meet him

and through his hard work, he teleports the two of you into a well-lit and organised office, with stacks of papers placed neatly on the desk

Riddle sits at the desk, his face more angular having lost his baby fat, but his gaze remained as intense as it always had

Riddle meticulously reviews a case file, his focus unwavering as he flips through the pages. Suddenly, a swirl of iridescent light materialises in the corner of the room, catching his attention. He pushes himself away from the desk, knocking his chair backwards with a thud as he stands up, watching in disbelief as you emerge from the ethereal portal, a small boy clinging onto you tightly.

"My Rose…is it...is it truly you?" Riddle's voice wavers with a combination of astonishment and longing. His stormy grey eyes lock onto your gaze, searching for confirmation that this was indeed real.

His heart swells with a surge of emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He takes hesitant steps forward, closing the distance between you. As he reaches out a trembling hand, he hesitates for a fraction of a second before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close.

"I've missed you so much," Riddle whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I've yearned for this moment, to hold you again, to see your face."

after the heartfelt reunion, Riddle leaves work early and takes a holiday, something he has never done before for reasons other than sickness

he takes the two of you back to his house and you spend some time catching up

he’s become a successful lawyer, having deviated from the path his mother had intended for him

that, along with his refusal to be in an arranged marriage by her will, has him basically disowned

but he’s happy with where he is in life, only he wished to find a love as fulfilling as the one he had with you

now that you’re back, Riddle does everything he can to support you in adjusting to life back with him

he’s super expressive and affectionate and savours every moment he has with you

he does get a little jealous of Yoshikazu getting all your affection, and this has resulted in all three of you sleeping together cuddled up

Riddle tries to learn how to cook because he can’t be worse than his son right??

wrong

but the two of them do get along really well, Riddle loves reading bedtime stories to Yoshikazu, and Yoshikazu tries so hard to stay awake till the end

Yoshikazu also loves visiting uncle trey’s bakery!

eventually, he might try to reconcile with his mother and have her meet the two of you, but his priority is on the two of you

Riddle's eyes show a mix of emotions, a kaleidoscope of love, regret, and gratitude. He bends down, his hands trembling, to meet Yoshikazu's gaze. A cascade of emotions surges through him as he realises the precious bond he had unknowingly missed out on.

"My child," Riddle whispers, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "I never imagined..."

Yoshikazu reaches out a tiny hand, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Riddle's heart melts as he gingerly takes his hand, feeling an overwhelming wave of love and protectiveness.

"Father?" Yoshikazu's voice was a gentle whisper, filled with innocence and trust.

Riddle's eyes shimmer with tears that threaten to spill over. He carefully extends his hand, allowing his small fingers to intertwine with his own.

"Yes," Riddle replies, his voice overflowing with tenderness. "I am honoured to be your father. I will protect you, guide you, and cherish you always, my precious bud."

Koushi (功志) with 功 meaning "a success, a great achievement" and 志 meaning "purpose, will, determination, aspiration, ambition"

your son had sleek dark hair that reminded you of the night sky, and bright cyan eyes

Deuce placed great importance on personal growth and the pursuit of success, valuing hard work and the satisfaction that comes from achieving one's goals, so you implemented those values into your son's name

he takes his tasks and activities seriously and is motivated to excel in everything he does

but at the same time, he also struggles with being patient and occasionally becomes frustrated when things don't go his way

there are many times you’re trying to console him, and he’s just standing there, fists clenched and trying to hold back tears

when you rub the back of his head though, he melts and starts crying into your chest

he can be impulsive and mischievous, but once the high passes, he’s apologising and he really didn’t mean to hurt anyone or anything

just like his father, his favourite food is egg dishes, so it’s not difficult cooking for him

generally, he’s not picky and gobbles up anything you make him except vegetables

yeahh, the vegetables are going to need some convincing, and he’ll make a big show about how he hates the taste, but still reluctantly swallows his greens

he’s not the brightest, but he strives to be the best he can be, eagerly practising and studying magic concepts, though he faces some challenges in grasping complex concepts quickly

he became so curious when you told him how much his father valued hard work, asking question after question to learn more about him

and through trial and error, somehow, he managed to teleport you to a street of residential buildings, the fresh scent of roses filling your senses

and Deuce stood in shock in front of you, looking more mature and yet still possessing that dorky lovable presence

Deuce, donned in his crisp uniform, patrols the streets with a focused gaze. As he turns a corner, his eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. There, before him, stands the silhouette of a familiar figure, obscured by the shimmering waves of nostalgia, accompanied by a small boy.

"Prefect… I’m not dreaming, am I?" Deuce murmurs, his voice tinged with disbelief and a touch of vulnerability. His pulse quickens, and he takes a tentative step forward, his hands trembling with both trepidation and longing.

Tears well up in his eyes as you nod, a mixture of emotions playing across your face. The weight of your absence suddenly lifts, and without a second thought, Deuce closes the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.

"You're here. You're really here," Deuce whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He presses his forehead against yours, savouring the moment and the warmth of your presence.

once Deuce has calmed down, he takes you back to his house, where he lives with his mom to take care of her more

Deuce has become a successful police officer, and he’s decided to work in his hometown to keep the neighbourhood safe for his mom

after a quick introduction to Mrs. Spade, she’s very happy to meet you and her grandson

though she does glare at Deuce for a bit given you had to raise Koushi alone

she immediately starts gushing over Koushi and how similar he is to Deuce when he was a kid

Koushi is a little confused, but you can tell he loves listening to his grandmother and hearing about his father as an infant

Deuce can’t just leave his job whenever he wants to, but he dedicates all of his free time to the two of you

after work, he’ll take Koushi on runs, and sometimes they’ll pick a bouquet of wildflowers from a nearby field to give to you and Mrs. Spade

on weekends, you often go on family outings, like visiting the aquarium, camping, or visiting old friends!

uncle ace is Koushi’s favourite, teaching him magic tricks and telling him all the embarrassing things Deuce did back in NRC

and though Deuce had never prepared himself for parenting, he’s doing his best and making sure the two of you are happy, just like he is with the family all together

Deuce breaks the embrace and drops to one knee, his eyes meeting the Koushi's. A mixture of awe and tenderness dances in his gaze as he extends a hand toward the small boy. "Hey there, little guy. I'm your dad. My name's Deuce. What’s your name?" he asks, his voice gentle.

Koushi steps forward, hesitantly reaching out to grasp Deuce's hand. "Koushi," he answers meekly. A spark of connection passes between them, a shared understanding and an unspoken bond.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he continues, his voice filled with a mix of joy and remorse. "Koushi, I'm sorry it took me so long, to be the father you deserved. But from this moment on, I promise you, I'll be there for every step of your journey. We'll make up for lost time together, yeah?"

Akuru (渥瑠) with 渥 meaning "kindness, moisten" and 瑠 meaning "lapis lazuli"

your daughter had clear aquamarine eyes that reminded you of the sparkling ocean, and silver locks that curled naturally to frame her face

Azul had always adhered to the spirit of benevolence, so the name seemed perfect

she's quite a shy little girl, when she's in front of strangers, she'll ask you to carry her so she can hide her face in your neck

there's no way you can resist when she's staring at you with such bright eyes, her tiny arms reaching up for you to hold her

she's extremely greedy for affection just like Azul was once he let his guard down around you

she has the squishiest cheeks!!!

she also tends to observe and listen rather than being the centre of attention

but when she's alone with you, it's evident she inherited Azul's sharp intellect and has a natural aptitude for academics

you often told her about the brilliant man her father is, how hard he worked so he could become a version of himself he was proud of

the way her eyes sparkled when she heard about him reminded you of Azul's ambitious looks when he's making deals

incredibly talented at magic, she understood everything so quickly and it wasn't too long until you couldn't be much help to her anymore

but worry not, because she has brought the two of you back to your dearest lover by some accident in her experiments

Azul is sitting in a dimly lit office, his dark eye circles are evident, but he looked more beautiful than you had ever seen him

Azul sits at his desk fully engrossed in work, his quill gliding swiftly across the parchment. A sudden gust of magic sweeps through the air, causing Azul to stand in alarm, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. But as the magical energy settles, his hand freezes mid-air, his eyes widening in disbelief as your figure emerges.

His breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "It... can't be... Can it?", he whispers as he manoeuvres himself over to you, his legs trembling as if it was his first time on land.

You reach out to take his hand, your familiar warmth and presence casting away the doubt in him. His eyes well up with tears, and a radiant smile spreads across his face.

"Oh, Angelfish... You're here...", he cries as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

he's so emotional he can't stop crying

it's to the point where his tears are slightly inky

he wishes he was in his merform so he could hug the two of you properly at the same time

it's at this point jade and floyd bust into the room to see the three of you huddled together on the floor

the two of them start teasing Azul for being a crybaby, but you can tell they're genuinely happy for him

Azul, as he had planned back in NRC, had conquered all forms of business, forming an incredibly successful corporation

now that he has the two of you back though, he immediately takes a break from work so he can make up for the time lost

Azul's a bit awkward, and he's so afraid you've found someone new or don't love him anymore

but with time, and plenty of your affection, he's loving and comfortable and completely at ease with you, just like the old days

he uses this break to spend time together with you two as a family, going on family outings, discovering hobbies, etc.

takes the two of you to the coral sea to meet mama ashengrotto

oh she loves you and can't stop spoiling Akuru

he makes a lot of effort to be present in Akuru's life, and he wants nothing more than for her to be happy

and fortunately, Akuru is very comfortable with Azul, though it takes time for her to trust him on the same level as you

but you've got all the time in the world to love and grow with your dear family now

bonus: uncle jade and uncle floyd who always bring out the ambitious side of Akuru!

Azul's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at the small girl peeking from behind your legs, his heart swelling with a love he had never thought possible. Akuru's innocent eyes meet his, mirroring his own shades of blue.

"Hello, Akuru," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe. He crouches down to her level, his eyes locked with hers. "I... I'm your father. It’s nice to meet you."

Akuru's small hand reaches out, hesitantly brushing against his cheek. The touch sends shivers down Azul's spine, his heart bursting with overwhelming emotions. Tears spill freely down his cheeks as his arms wrap around her fragile frame.

"I've missed so much... I'm so sorry," Azul says, his voice laced with remorse. Akuru nestles closer, burying her face in the crook of Azul's neck, as if instinctively seeking solace in the embrace of her father. "Oh, I promise you, my dear, I will make up for lost time. I will protect you, love you, and be the father you deserve."

Misaki (望咲) with 望 meaning "ambition, hope, desire" and 咲 meaning "bloom, blossom, flourish"

your daughter had silky blonde, hair and violet eyes reminded you of the lavender plant Vil kept in his room

you knew through Vil's dedication towards beauty and his strictness that he values hard work and effort, and so you named your daughter hoping she would flourish in whatever ambitions she pursued

like her father, she carries herself with a certain regal air that’s beyond her age

she's incredibly strict with herself, though occasionally you'll have to tell her to relax a bit and be more carefree

she listens to you a lot though, she loves making her mommy proud!

and though she might put up a front and act confident with strangers, when she's alone with you, she's surprisingly docile and affectionate

she is enchanted by the media and drawn to acting, always reenacting scenes from movies or shows you watched with her

she asks for bedtime stories every night, but it’s more of the two of you doing a dramatic reading and playing around with character voices

she also loves to play around with different hairstyles and outfits, and even experimenting with your makeup

though she’s rather displeased with her lacklustre makeup skills, she loves it when you do her makeup for her, making her feel like a star

she’s incredibly smart and fast to pick up on the magical concepts, though she’s slower with practical magic

when you told her about the meticulous and dedicated man her father was, she was fascinated by how confident and strong he sounded

and with diligent practice, it isn’t long before she manages to teleport you to a well-lit room with a modern design

Vil is sitting on the couch studying his latest movie, his hair is in a messy bun and he is wearing glasses and he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen

As Vil stares at the television analysing his performance, the tranquillity of the moment is abruptly shattered by a sudden burst of light. His heart skips a beat as he turns towards the source, his eyes widening in disbelief. There, standing before him, is the person who had occupied his thoughts and dreams for the past years, with a sweet-looking child next to them.

"Is it really you, darling?" His voice trembles with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He takes a hesitant step forward, his polished facade momentarily crumbling as he reaches out to confirm the reality of your presence.

Your eyes meet, and in that instant, a whirlwind of emotions surged through his being, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself. "It's... it's been so long," Vil's voice cracks with raw emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I've missed you every day, every moment."

Vil is the most emotional you’ve ever seen him, even when you had bid each other farewell at the mirror, he had been more composed

but here he’s completely vulnerable and crying tears of joy

once he’s calmed down a bit, he immediately calls his manager to reschedule whatever plans he had because of ‘family emergencies’

since you left, vil has been completely invested in his acting career and has landed a few roles as the main character, though some of them were still villainous

he’s super affectionate and relaxed with you, always instinctively reaching out for you to confirm you’re really there

and he’s super cute with Misaki!! Misaki always goes to him for makeup and styling her hair, but she likes going to you for brushing her hair when it’s tangled

mini drama sessions at home where it’s the three of you playing out scenes from a fairytale

vil is the ‘only the best for my princess’ type of father

he’s very careful with outings so the paparazzi or the media won't just sabotage your family dates, he’s determined to spend quality time with his two darlings

takes you to meet papa schoenheit, who adores you for making vil so happy, and absolutely spoils Misaki with clothes and accessories

you’ll have to be the strict parent to make sure she’s not too spoiled

not to mention uncle rook who absolutely worships the ground she walks on and cannot resist her requests

Vil's gaze flickers to the child standing beside you, her innocent eyes mirroring his own. A rush of emotions washes over him, as he finally comprehends the magnitude of the moment. His voice trembles with tenderness as he kneels down, extending a hand towards her. "Is this... our child?" His voice holds a hint of awe and wonder, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.

Misaki's eyes widen, taking a tentative step forward to try and comprehend this newfound connection. "Are you like the daddies in the shows that come back to the family?" she asks, her voice tinged with innocence and wonder.

A brief look of confusion flashes by, before a warm smile graces Vil's lips as he reaches out, gently brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, darling," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. "I am here now, and I promise I'll never leave you. I will be there for you, guide you, and cherish every moment we share, just like the fathers in the shows."

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland riddle #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #twisted wonderland deuce #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland vil

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spiderlyla · 10 months

Note

the high school reunion thing is so cute but now I’m also thinking about seeing him as a single person 👀 can you imagine going back to your highschool reunion and your old HS Best friend that you lost touch with after college is now this brooding 6’9 BIG MAN? my god

♤—Miguel O'Hara

—anon ur a genius.

🕸alternate idea to teenage miguel headcanons, you can read the first idea here!

🕸taglist: @general-dweebous , @mamu-writes , @beezblep

you weren't really sure why you attended this in the first place, you didn't like half of these people during your years in highschool.

but you were free for the night, and it wouldn't hurt if you had a couple of free drinks and went home after

you didn't mingle much, just said hello to a couple of friends, catching up and engaging in small talk

it was fun for a bit, reminiscing on your time spent here, but you soon found yourself getting overwhelmed

you stepped out of the gym, deciding to take a breather in the hall, when you bumped into something

hard.

you stumbled a bit from the impact, but two hands rested on your sides, stabilising you

taking a few steps back, you apologised, and excused yourself, a little too embaressed to look up

"Ay, still as clumsy as always. No es sorprendente."

your eyes met his, and memories came crashing down on you

one person you've never expected to run into here, was your bestfriend, Miguel O'Hara

miguel and you met just like this, not too many years ago. you bumped into him so hard the two of you fell on top of one another

after that little event, you found yourself partnered with him for your biology class, and ever since you were inseprable

that was until he completely dissappeared from everyone's lives as soon as he started working for alchemax

those brown eyes you daydreamed about as a teenager were boring into yours, but you could swear they were now a little...reddish? something about him was different.

then you noticed it. everything was different.

you remember miguel as this scrawny, freakishly tall nerd with dark brown bangs covering his forehead, who barely even held himself together

not as...this.

the man who stood infront of you was nothing like you remember. his body has obviously seen some extreme changes—you were certain that his arm was bigger than your own head

it didn't help that he wore a tight black shirt, because you could see the ripples of his abs from underneath the fabric and because it tugged at all of the right places

his face was still as handsome and defined, but he wore his hair back, it was definitely a good look on him

you had always had a crush on miguel, but seeing him like this made your tummy flutter

"Miggy? What...how are you—"

he smiled, and you could swear you could see...fangs? maybe he got his canins sharpened or something.

"You look good yourself...too good." Just like him, you changed alot too, and you did put some effort into how you looked tonight. Just for a faint moment, you saw his ears turn pink, but you didn't think too much about it, there was alot of things to stare at more important than his ears.

"Its been a while since you saw me. Started working out is all. Are you leaving?"

His answer was too calculated. You haven't seen him in ages, but you know him like you know the back of your hand.

"Just taking a breather."

"Had enough already?"

"Oh, you have no idea. Most of them are even more annoying than I remember them."

He chuckles, running his hand into his soft hair. That feeling in your stomach persisted.

"Then do you want to get out of here? I only came because I thought I might see you. We could go to the bar. Talk there."

"What makes you think I wanna talk to you?" You jab a finger at his chest, and wince at the pain. Gosh, his chest was hard.

"We have alot to talk about," He flashed you another grin, "and I think I should buy you a drink. Make up for lost time."

"Oh fine, only if you're paying." You chuckle.

"...and you need to tell me what 'work out' that makes you turn into this."

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spider man atsv #astv #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse

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itsharleystuff · 10 months

Text

↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙

Gif not mine! | Read part two here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)

— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.

Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.

So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.

Joel Miller.

Joel mother-fucking Miller.

Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.

You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.

"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."

"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."

"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."

You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.

That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.

Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.

Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.

It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.

You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.

"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"

"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"

You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"

"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.

"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."

"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.

"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."

"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."

"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."

"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"

She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.

"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"

The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.

Breathtaking.

"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.

"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."

It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.

"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."

"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.

"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"

"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"

The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.

"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."

You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.

"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.

"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."

"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"

"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."

Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."

You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.

'Righteous', you'd called him.

But he isn't so much. No man ever is.

In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.

"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"

Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.

With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.

"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"

"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"

"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."

"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"

"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."

"Can I expect to see her later, too?"

Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.

So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.

(...)

When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.

Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.

You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.

After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.

"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"

He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.

"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.

"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile.

"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."

"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."

Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—

"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.

"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"

"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."

"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.

"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."

They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.

He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.

"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."

"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"

"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."

"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.

"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.

"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.

"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.

"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"

His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.

"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”

Joel noticed.

"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."

Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.

"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"

"Boring. You know the drill."

"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.

"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.

You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"

"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."

A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."

Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"

"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."

"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."

With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"

"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."

"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."

"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.

A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.

"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.

He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.

"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.

"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."

With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.

"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.

"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoked."

He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.

"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.

If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.

"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.

"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."

It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.

"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.

"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.

"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.

"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"

His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.

"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference.

"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."

You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"

The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."

His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."

He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.

"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."

"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."

"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase."

"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"

"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."

His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"

The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.

"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."

He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.

The question is: will he take the bait?

"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.

"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.

"I think you are, sweetheart."

The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.

"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"

"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."

"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.

He doesn't buy it.

"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"

"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you cum, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."

"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"

Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.

But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.

"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."

His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."

You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"

He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.

"M'not sure," he huffs.

It's true. He doesn't know anymore.

Your cig has burned out.

"I think you are, Mr. Miller."

Oh, such a clever girl indeed.

Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.

"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."

Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.

"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man on my mind."

Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.

But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.

For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.

He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.

Something about you bewitched him.

Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.

For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.

That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?

"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.

His cigarette has burned out too.

"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."

If Joel were a better man, he would've.

He definitely should have.

"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."

He'd be damned.

No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.

Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.

"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."

Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"

His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.

"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"

You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.

"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.

"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."

"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"

It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

Music to his ears.

He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.

You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.

Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.

"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.

"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."

His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.

"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."

"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.

His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.

"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."

"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."

His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.

"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."

His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.

Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.

"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"

You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."

He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.

"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.

You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.

A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.

"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."

"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.

"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.

He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.

"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.

Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.

"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."

You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.

"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.

His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails.

The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.

He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.

You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.

"Joel-"

"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."

Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"

Did he even need to ask?

"Yes- god. Please..."

It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.

"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.

He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.

Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.

The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.

"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.

His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.

He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.

It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.

If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.

"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"

Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.

It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.

"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."

You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.

"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"

"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”

And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.

Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.

He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.

Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.

Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.

Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.

None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #dbf!joel

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month

Note

Hi! I just love your levi fics so much!

For a request I was hoping for something like this -

Levi & reader had grown up together along with Isabel and farlan, when the group gets sent off onto their fateful mission levi thinks reader died alongside with Isabel and farlan. (Angst)

Only to discover years later that reader was alive and actually doing very well for themselves, well known and a strong fighter. Just a very cute reunion fic maybe? Maybe romance 👀 thanks! <3

🦅- Anon

this was an emotional rollercoaster I'm still crying babe but here you go, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Levi thinking he lost his sun forever only to find you again after years

Pairing: Levi x fem! reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: It's been 1869 days since you were killed by the abnormal titan Isabel and Farlan lost their lives to as well, 1869 days of missing you and regretting that Levi didn't tell you about his true feelings when you were still alive. Little does he know you aren't so easy to get rid of and that you are still out there...

Warnings: death, blood, war scene, depression, full on hurt to comfort, super duper fluff in the end, as usual not proofread because I need to go to bed now hehe

Notes: Finally my first Levi fic after literally MONTHS! I know a lot of you were patiently waiting for more attack on titan content and I'm beyond sorry it took me so long babes. Please let me know how you feel about Attack on Titan content so that I might do more and especially regular fics in the future <3

He can’t take his eyes off you. To be exact, the sunlight suits your facial features so well that it seems impossible to ever let go of your sight.

You have been friends since he met you on that day exactly 6 years ago, when you tried to steal a load of food for a heavy pregnant woman. Since then, he was captivated by your beauty, your brain, your skills. But somehow, this makes the stinging fact that you sit beside him even worse.

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n)”, he speaks out before he’s able to stop himself.

Immediately, your gaze drifts away from the dreamy scenery to him, eyes widen in surprise.

“What are you talking about, Levi?”

Don’t say his name while looking at him like that, not with that gentle tone in your angelic voice. He told himself over and over that you are nothing but a close friend, maybe considered family like Isabel and Farlan.

He huffs to himself. What a filthy little lie.

“This mission is dangerous. I don’t want you to get-“

“Hurt? Killed? You told me about all those things more than once and I’m happy to repeat myself again for you: I will not leave you, Farlan’s and Isabel’s side. After all, we are friends, right? And friends don’t leave each other behind.”

You gift him with your usual breath-taking smile while his heart skips a beat.

A friend.

He has to remind himself over and over again, force his orbs away from you. You are nothing but friends. And he will never risk to lose you over the potential of something more.

-the evening before the mission-

“I thought I’d find you here”, your teasing voice shouts from behind.

You are probably the last thing he wants to see this evening. Not because he doesn’t enjoy your company, but because he wasn’t able to convince you to stay in safety. Erwin Smith made it very clear that this mission is dangerous, that multiple survey corps member already died behind those walls. And even though you, Farlan and Isabel showed your skills countless times before, he can’t stop his train of thought. You, getting grabbed by a titan. You, getting ripped apart, your blood scattering onto the ground. He won’t have the chance to stay by your side during all times. One wrong movement, one thoughtless decision and you’d be gone.

“I don’t even have to ask in order to know what you’re thinking about right now, Levi.”

The second your hand brushes over his shoulder, he is too lost in the feeling of your bare hand against his shirt to worry any further.

“You don’t have to worry about Farlan, Isabel and me. After all, you’re the one who taught us everything we know.”

“Tsk. You were already doing fine when I met you.”

“But you were the one who showed me there is still hope, something worth fighting for. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died down there without ever seeing the sun once in my life”, you reply.

All of the sudden you place your hand on top of his and squeeze in gently. That look on your face, is it…Affection? He shakes his head firmly, doesn’t allow himself to get lost in that oh so sweet idea. A woman like you will never fall for a cold-hearted man like him, not when the whole squad fell head over heels for you the second they got to know you better. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine. He, on the other hand, is none of that.

“Stop praising me or else I’ll puke and make a mess onto the freshly cleaned floor.”

No, he doesn’t deserve your kind word, doesn’t even deserve that spark in your eyes. You are better off without him, even as a friend.

“You’ll gonna clean it up anyway”, you bite back with a wide grin.

“Actually, there is something else I want to talk with you about, Levi.”

The sudden change in your voice paired with the warmth of your hand leaving his lets his gaze wander to yours again – only to catch you already staring.

“What is it?”, he questions instantly.

“If you have to decide between Isabel, Farlan and me…Just promise that you’ll safe them before even thinking about my ass. Please look after them and don’t worry about me.”

His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, reveal his surprise and…his resist. Not thinking about you, leaving you behind? The urge to shake you becomes almost unbearable when he grabs your arms passionately, gaze locking with yours.

“There is no way in hell I will ever leave you behind, dumbass. Don’t you dare to die on me, got it?”

“Promise”, you urge.

“Promise you’ll look out for them first.”

“(y/n)…”

He has to close his eyes in order to stop staring at your perfect lips. This might be the last time he ever sees you alive so unbothered by his side, the last time he witnesses the way the dim moonlight lights up your hair.

This…might be your last night alive.

“Please, I can’t live with the thought of being without them. They are still so young.”

“What about you, though? What if I don’t want to live a life without you? What if I die myself?”

You smile at him sadly, your hand caressing his cheek oh so gently.

“We all know you won’t die out there, Levi. It’s us who might not be here with you tomorrow. After all, that’s why you wanted to stop us from coming with you, right?”

He swallows hard. Every single one of you is a skilled fighter. Hell, you even survived the underground with countless enemies chasing after you. But this? This is something completely different. For the first time since getting to know all of you, Levi isn’t so sure about your abilities anymore.

“I promise”, he replies with low voice.

“Thank you”, you breathe out.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we? We have a big fight ahead of us.”

Oh, there is no doubt in the fact that Levi won’t close his eyes this whole cursed night, pondering about a way to safe all of you. But even though you are very aware of that, you turn on your heel and smile at him one last time.

The brightest smile of them all, making your face gleam in nothing but affection.

“Oh, and Levi?”

“What is it, dumbass?”

“When I was talking about the sun earlier…That sun was you.”

And then you’re gone in the dark, leaving him with his heart almost beating out of his chest and feelings clustered all over the place.

Him, your sun?

-the battle-

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, the violent scream escaping your lips not reaching your ringing ears. Those powerful orbs…There is no doubt in the fact that this is her, that this is Isabel. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, mix with the bitter coat of rain that sticks to your face uncomfortably.

Your friend is dead. And you were not able to protect her.

“You.”

The monster standing in front of you doesn’t look like the other titans you’ve seen before. Eyes red like crimson, lips curved into an evil grin. This thing is absolutely aware of the agony it causes you and enjoys every tear you cry.

You grab your blades even tighter, narrow eyes fixating its nape.

“I will make you suffer”, you press out through gritted teeth.

“I will make you regret that you even touched her!”

You dash forward only to get greeted by thin air. Fuck, this thing is so fast you didn’t even realize it was gone until your blade crashed into the muddy ground. Why do your hands suddenly start shaking, your knees felling weak? It’s just you and that thing. The other corps members around you? Scuttered onto the floor in bloody pieces.

Levi?

You escape its clutches by a hair’s breadth, the monster’s stinging smell of death and rotten flesh making your guts turn. You need to focus, need to control your fear and anger. Otherwise, you’ll die just like all the others did.

Levi…Is he dead as well? There is no one around, no one showed a single reaction to your multiple cries for help, your signs. Maybe you’re the only one who’s left. Which means that Farlan and Levi are gone.

Levi, gone? Fuck, you should have told him about your true feelings yesterday, you should have pressed your lips against his like you always dreamed about. This was the last opportunity to tell him how much you love him before both of you die.

And now it will be forever too late.

Just when you’re about to dash forward, the arm of the titan yanks towards you with breath-taking speed. Your eyes widen in sheer horror as all you can do is stare in sheer disbelief.

Is this how you will die? Through the hand of an abnormal titan, eating you alive?

You always dreamed of a life on the surface with Levi by your side. Maybe a small cottage on the edge of a busy city close to a river. Having a little farm with a few animals here and there, Levi working for a local business while you stay home and care for your home. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to rest, to get lost in the life you will never have.

If only you had told him sooner. Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel your bones crack against the sheer force of the titan’s flat palm, throwing you into the air like a ball.

As soon as your body hits the ground, everything goes black.

-5 years later-

He opens his eyes against the way too harsh sunlight. Another night he hasn’t slept more than 2 hours. Day 1869 of missing you.

“Good morning, Captain Levi!”

He doesn’t even care to reply, feet carrying him down the hallway monotone. His days have always been the same since the day he lost Isabel, Farlan and you: Getting haunted in his sleep, waking up alone, surviving another day in this living hell. It’s almost ironic, how he already hated the world when you were in it. Little did he know how much worse it would get when you’re gone.

There is no day since back then that doesn’t revolve around you. You, with your hair down in the sun. You, beating up some tuff guys and showing them their place. You, that fucking cursed night before you had to leave.

Until this day, he hates himself for not being there. By the time he arrived, everyone was dead, brutally murdered by an abnormal titan. And even after searching for your corpse for hours in the pouring rain, he didn’t even manage to find a single limb left of you. This should be a good sign. After all, it might mean that you somehow managed to survive.

“The chances of (y/n) surviving and managing to flee on her own are 1 against 500.000”, Erwin said back then.

Maybe it would have actually felt better, knowing that you’re dead. Maybe this would spare him from getting haunted by your giggling and fucking gorgeous face each and every night.

But…If getting haunted by your presence is all he has left, he shouldn’t complain about it.

“We are heading out today. It is said that there are countless abnormal titans roaming around a city nearby”, Erwin explains briefly.

“How the fuck did these things even manage to get in there?”, Levi grumbles in response while taking a sip of his way too hot tea.

“That’s not what I care about. What I’m more interested in is the fact that a group of villagers managed to trap one of them.”

Levi can’t help but put his cup of tea down while Hange bursts out in sheer excitement next to him. A group of villagers, trapping an abnormal titan?

“Former corps members?”, he questions.

“Apparently not. Maybe they are interested in a new job”, Erwin replies, getting up from his seat and straightening his uniform.

“We are leaving right now.”

“Right now? Over some brats who were lucky to not get eaten by that titan?”

“You can’t deny that these ‘brats’ have to be skilled in order to trap an abnormal titan, Levi. Also, I heard the head of them is a woman.”

Levi huffs to himself. Skilled, huh? Lucky is definitely the better fit.

You sink your blade straight into the eye of the disgusting creature lying in front of you, watch in sheer satisfaction how it squeals underneath.

“Hope you enjoy that as much as I do”, you mumble, twisting and turning your sword painfully slow.

“(y/n), d-don’t you think that’s enough? What if it escapes?”, the man next to you cries out, holding safe distance between himself and the abnormal.

“So what? Listen, you little shit. If you even try to escape, I will kill you without even blinking, got it?”

You rip your blade out. In, out, in, out until everything around you is covered in crimson.

Just like back then.

You stumble back when a wave of nausea hits you. The sight of Isabel’s lifeless head, her limbs scattered across the muddy floor. Back then, you weren’t able to save her, weren’t even able to save yourself. If it wasn’t for your crew, you’d be dead by now. Just like her…

“Hey.”

“How about you take a break for a sec? You’re drifting off again.”

Her gently voice pulls you out of your nightmare just like her tender touch. Petra has been the greatest support since that fateful day. In fact, the only reason you are still alive is her. When she found you, you were already on the brink of death. Only due to her passionate and long-term care, you learned how to walk again, learned how to fight again.

“Sorry”, you mumble, allowing yourself to rest for a moment against her strong shoulder.

“(y/n), I’m sorry to interrupt you like this but…We spotted members of the survey corps?”

“The survey corps?”, you repeat in sheer disbelief.

Rage starts flooding your veins in an instant, forcing you to pick up your blade again. If there’s one thing you will never forgive the survey corps for, it’s the fact that they left you standing in the rain. The countless people who died with the wings of faith embroidered onto their jackets, eaten alive by a titan while your desperate cries for help remained unanswered until this day. For Erwin Smith, you were nothing but canon fodder, nothing but a bait. And you will forever hate him over the fact that he is partly responsible for the death of Isabel, Farlan and Levi.

You storm in the direction your scout sighted them, jumping from tree to tree in order to catch them by surprise. You will definitely not tolerate survey corps members around your area, especially when you just caught an abnormal titan to study and torture.

“There they are.”

Their disgusting green cloaks fill you with thick anger, almost force you onto the ground to knock every single one of them out. But you know all too well this isn’t the way to go. No, you will wait here until the right time comes to throw yourself at their captain.

There are five of them, walking towards the direction of your village. Just wait a few more seconds until the one who walks ahead is underneath you, one second and you…

You lunge yourself at the person with full speed, forcing them to the ground. Him, to be exact. That firm chest exposes all too urgently that you just attacked a man.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, brat?”, he barks at you, rough hands grabbing your wrists so tightly that your bones threaten to shatter.

You aren’t able to defend yourself, though.

That voice, the way he called you brat.

Is it really possible that…

You allow your eyes to look up at him and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“Levi.”

You breathe his name out like a prayer, as if your dream might become reality. These grey and unbothered eyes look just like you remember his, the dark hair framing his face oh so perfectly.

“Levi, is that you?”

He can’t comprehend his feelings. Just a second ago, he was under attack of a stranger. But your eyes aren’t foreign. They hold the spark he dreams of each and every night, the memory he cares about so deeply. Is it really possible, that…

“(y/n).”

Everyone was so sure that you died on the battlefield, that the titan must have eaten you alive without leaving any remains. But maybe there was nothing to remain. Maybe you actually did manage to survive. Is it possible? Is this really you?

“I thought you died.”

Your voice is nothing but a fade away whisper, tears streaming down your usual so composed face like rivers when your memories begin to crash down on you like a house of cards. All those years, you were convinced Levi lost his life on this battlefield as well, that you were the only one remaining. But now you’re sitting on top of him, taking in his clean scent while he glares at you the way he used to.

“Everyone tried to convince me that that fucking abnormal ate you back then, that there is no chance you survived. Now look at you, dumbass”, he breathes out, very own eyes now coated in a thin layer of glimmering tears.

There is no time to waste. With a swift motion, you lunge yourself at him again, wrap your arms around his strong torso as if your life depends on it while resting your head against his chest and crying your heart out.

Words will always fail to express how much you missed him, that you thought about him each and every night since the day he was taken away from you so roughly. But now, you will never let him go again. Now you won’t waste another opportunity to tell him how you really feel.

“I love you, Levi. I loved you since our days in the underground city, I loved you through all these horrible years of grief. I love you. I love you”, you finally blurt out.

“I love you too, (y/n). I always did.”

Gently, he rests his hand against your nape while lifting your chin up with the other.

The second your lips meet, your world feels complete for the first time. All the pain, the grief, the things you had to endure. The countless nights of imagining him right by your side, the thought of never seeing him again. And now he’s here, right in your arms while kissing you so passionately that you fail to breathe.

“I love you”, he repeats so softly that your heart melts away like butter.

“I love you…”

“I finally found my sun again”, you smile against his lips.

You snuggle yourself onto him even tighter, your grip around his torso firm. Oh, you will definitely never let this man go again. Not after it took both of you so many years to meet again, not when he’s all you ever wanted.

Levi Ackerman, the love of your life.

“Who’s that woman throwing herself at you from a tree and then getting a smooch from you?”

“Shut up, shitty four-eyes”, Levi barks at the person standing behind him.

Tags:

@hellkaiserinphoenix @chilichopsticks @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain (hope you noticed I actually named reader's bestie after you babe) @polarbvnny @kentocalls @kayleegomez

First divider by wonderful @cafekitsune - check out the banner I used here!

Second one as usual from the best @saradika-graphics - I worship the ground you walk on honey

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

Note

Could I maybe get a Hisuian!Reader who came to Paldea through a space time rift? They remember everything, they still have all their old Pokemon, they like to share stories of their adventures (anything from taking on Volo to "Oh yeah, I caught this alpha garchomp after a half-hour standoff, here's her gigaton ball lol."), they've got little scars here and there from accidentally standing too close to Pokemon attacks or taking fall damage, and they give descendants of their Hisuian Pokemon to their blueberry friends (BBE4, Carmine, and Kieran) during their trades. To make things even more interesting, I wonder what that reader would think about bloodmoon ursaluna, Perrin, and modern Sinnoh - seeing their dear friend Adaman in someone alive today and seeing just how much things have changed over the years

The PLA fixation is real so YESSSIR I finally got around to this one. I separated the headcanons by region and their respective characters

.............

Paldea (Arven, Penny, Nemona)

After finishing your mission in Hisui, you decided to confront Arceus, being satisfied with everything you've done for the Survey Corps and the good people of Jubilife Village.

You fully finished the pokedex, fulfilling Professor Laventon's dreams, and were ready to return home.

After some reluctance, Arceus agreed and ensured you wouldn't lose any of your memories, as you didn't want all your feats in Hisui become lost to history.

It warned you that you'll never get to see Rei/Akari, Professor Laventon, the Wardens...or anyone else ever again.

But you've said your goodbyes and were ready to go back.

One warp through a space-time rift later, you were dropped off in Paldea-

Right where Arven, Penny, and Nemona were discussing whether to call off the search for you or not.

As it turns out, you've been missing for months, not long after the Area Zero adventure, and so it's a rather tearful reunion when they realize the person in the old fashioned clothing was you.

You looked tired, scarred, battle-hardened...and yet you smiled as you joked about being "back from the past".

Since then, easing back into modern life was..trickier than you expected.

You still had the habit of crafting pokeballs and potions as you were taught, rather than spend money buying them in bulk (even though you had boatloads because of your champion status).

You tried getting the trio to follow your directions, but they kept fumbling with the tumblestones and didn't know where to attach the iron chunks that made up the clasps.

When you start talking about feather, wing, leaden, and gigaton pokeballs they stare at you in confusion until you realize "oh shit those are outdated".

Nemona is VERY curious about the gigaton ball, however, and so you show it to her--revealing your Alpha Garchomp branded with the "Former Alpha" mark. She got to keep her height.

"Oh yeah, she was a real feisty one. We had a half-hour standoff on a slippery ice mountain slope but I showed her who's boss haha." You laugh as you share the story of how you encountered and tamed her.

Your fellow champion now thinks you're 10x cooler for actually facing a Pokémon head-on....while poor Arven and Penny are shook(TM) and wondered how you made it back alive.

Especially when they discover your scars are from falling and vicious Pokemon attacks

Introducing your Hisuian starter to your Paldean starter was...a little awkward. One recently became a champion's Pokémon and the other faced Giratina itself.

But they eventually shake hands and become besties, becoming members of your party whenever you wanna battle Arven, Penny, or Nemona again.

You keep accidentally calling out agile/strong style in your commands (ie "Avalugg, make an Agile Avalanche!"), but your Pokémon like to pretend they still know them.

Kitakami (Perrin & Bloodmoon Ursaluna)

Returning to Kitakami felt most familiar..and quite comforting considering how traditional everything is.

Festival of the Masks came back around, and while you didn't get to spend it with Kieran nor Carmine this time...you did wind up spending it with somebody else...

Perrin, who you were drawn to after seeing her Hisuian Growlithe getting into trouble with an Arbok and trying to stand up for itself.

Reminds you of a certain late lord's son..

She expresses her thanks for rescuing her buddy, and mentions how you got there "right on time".

You just look into her eyes and see Adaman: the Diamond Clan leader, the kind man who gave you the celestica flute and came to your aid when you got exiled from the village.

He may be gone now, but time didn't allow him to be forgotten.

Because he lives on in somebody else.

Perrin gets concerned when she sees how emotional you're getting, but you just wipe your eyes and say she just reminds you of an "old friend".

When you show her your other Hisuian Pokémon, she's THRILLED and wants to take all of their pictures, delighted to have proof that these creatures existed.

That leads her to ask how you acquired them, and you start talking about your adventures in the very region she's been studying...including the fact you met her ancestor who used to worship Dialga and had an easygoing attitude like her.

Girl is taking notes fr.

Together you seek out the "Bloodmoon Beast", only to discover that it was an Ursaluna who travelled alllll the way to Kitakami from Hisui, the environment causing it to change appearances and abilities.

You were fascinated, wondering what Lord Ursaluna or Calaba would think of him, and made him a member of your team after quelling his rage.

While going on more casual photoshoots with Perrin, you ask her about what Sinnoh is like now or if anyone there knew about Hisui.

She mentions how the elderly folk talk of it, and how the subway battle system was being run by one conductor due to the other going missing...

You find yourself holding your breath---until she says "oh but apparently he came back like yesterday" and you were SO relieved.

'Ingo made it back home, too. Thank you Arceus.'

She plans to invite you to Sinnoh someday, seeing as you're so curious about what it all looks like now.

BB Academy (BBE4, Carmine, & Kieran)

When you got to study abroad at BB Academy, you...sorta forgot all the beef you had with Kieran until you saw him berating a student out in the terarium.

A year later, you're Paldea's champion AND the one who saved Hisui, but you couldn't exactly tell him the latter.

But now you understood why everyone back then calling you a "hero" made you a little uncomfortable.

Ogerpon (who was worried sick about where you've gone all this time), was SO happy to see you were back and got to meet your Hisuian Lilligant. Two plant gals just vibing together.

You find a Kleavor in the canyon biome and become a bit sentimental, happy to see a descendant of the Lord of the Woods had survived to this very day.

He must've known you were the one who helped his ancestor (albeit not without receiving some scars from flying wood chips), as he bowed and began walking alongside you, loyal to a tee.

Least to say, he became a valuable ally when you finally battled Kieran in the championship.

He sees that you've definitely changed a lot, too. You look tougher and he was concerned about where that scar across your eye came from....

But he's still obsessed with winning, and his attitude when talking about Terapagos afterwards reminds you of...well...Volo.

It's such an extreme comparison, and you hate how your brain immediately jumped to that considering that was a legitimate monster of a man who betrayed you.

Yet it feels like such a similar situation when Kieran pits the turtle against you in the Underdepths, obsessed with power and wanting nothing more than to be recognized as "worthy".

At least he wasn't planning on ending the world, just yours.

After you both reconcile, you spill the beans about where you've gone for the past year, expecting him to laugh or shun you again for keeping such a big secret from him.

Instead..he has this star-eyed look and wanted to know MORE.

So during your next visit to Kitakami, you tell him and Carmine some stories of your Hisuian adventures, showing off Kleavor and your Alpha Garchomp.

Seeing that you still liked to make authentic pokeballs and potions made Kieran appreciate you a lot more. Kitakami used to have a lot of those apricorns, tumblestones, and leeks before everything became mass-produced.

Like him, you really became out-of-touch with today's technology, so while he's learning it, you're re-learning it along with him.

Eventually you tell those same stories to the BB E4, who are all just as shocked, amazed, and bewildered as the twins were.

And when they all came to offer up a trade, you knew what to do:

For Drayton, you gave him a Goomy, insisting that he trains it fully, not wanting to spoil the "surprise".

As lazy as he is, he does so and is stunned when Sliggoo is revealed to be chilling in its own shell, and Goodra had its whole shell on its tail, capable of withdrawing into it anytime

Ngl it makes him wish he had his own shell to withdraw into just to escape situations.

For someone like Kieran who likes old-fashioned stuff, you figured a Hisuian Voltorb would suit him best.

Its appearance reminds you of the olden ways pokeballs were made, and he got the hang of crafting a few himself after a little trial and error!

He gets nervous about it exploding like Kantonian Voltorbs at the slightest touch, but is happy to find out it's super friendly and discharges just to spook humans.

As for Carmine, the sharpness in her golden eyes reminds you of a certain ghost type's...and thus you believed giving her a Hisuian Zorua was ideal. You had a feeling she'd love its evolved form.

When she does evolve it, she's stunned that it has reddish highlights like she does, jokingly asking if this is her in "another life".

Least to say, she loves it indeed.

While you were adamant about giving Amarys your Kleavor, you ended up trading her a Scyther and give her a black augurite afterwards, explaining how it's the secret to its other evolution.

She mentioned deposits of that mineral existing within the canyon biome, but it couldn't actually evolve the surrounding Scyther population due to being simulated.

But thanks to you, she gets to witness that in-action because you held onto an authentic piece of it, and she gives you her thanks.

As for Crispin, well, you believed a Hisuian Growlithe was perfect for him. It was energetic, loyal, and full of fire..just like him.

He got teary-eyed at the story you told of the late Lord Arcanine, his son, how you quelled his frenzy, etc..and feels inspired to train the pup you've given him into something incredible.

One thing Kantonian and Hisuian Arcanines have in common? They love spicy foods.

For Lacey, you trade her a Hisuian-born Petili, encouraging her to use the sun stone right away.

She does and is delighted to see Lilligant as such a graceful dancer..who really packs a punch when it counts!

She'll definitely doll her up and ensure she knew Charm (the only fairy move Hisuian Lilligant could know, alas).

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pla x reader #legends arceus x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon arven #pokemon penny #pokemon nemona #pokemon carmine #pokemon kieran #pokemon drayton #pokemon crispin #pokemon lacey #pokemon amarys #pokemon perrin #headcanons

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welcometothejianghu · 28 days

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 重啟之極海聽雷/Reunion: The Sound of the Providence/The Lost Tomb Reboot/this thing has too many names

Reunion (I'm just going to call it that) is a 2020 action drama about the most specialest little babygirl in the tomb-raiding world, his two husbands, and the cadre of assorted weirdos they pick up as they try to follow a set of directions left by a dead (?) man in the thunder.

Imagine if someone showed you the Mandalorian, and you were like, gee, that was a neat little sci-fi one-shot! because you'd never heard of Star Wars. That was basically my experience watching this show, having no idea that the Lost Tomb franchise (DMBJ) was even a thing. Turns out that not only is there a whole big continuity out there with these characters, but that Reunion takes place a few years after the main story's resolution. Don't worry, though -- Reunion doesn't spoil you for that resolution. It doesn't spoil you for much, period. Look, DMBJ has a weird relationship to endings, okay?

I have written a more thorough where-to-start guide for DMBJ as a whole, so if you want to consider other entry points, well, that information is there for your consideration. Yet it is my opinion that this is the best entry into the overall franchise, and a fun thing to watch just in general, and I'm here to make my case for both of those.

The rest of this rec will assume that you have no familiarity with the DMBJ series. That's okay; you don't need any. All you need is to trust my five reasons you should watch this.

1. Old Man Yaoi

As you begin this show, you are introduced to the Iron Triangle. That's them in the picture up there. Left to right, you have: Xiao Ge, magically tattooed immortal hottie who just got back from ten years in [scene missing]; Wu Xie, our protagonist, who's just a little guy and it's his birthday; and Wang Pangzi, the literal best.

(And yes, Wu Xie is in his 30s and Pangzi is in his 40s, which is not technically old man anything, but ... look, if you watch, you'll see why I think I'm justified in calling it that.)

They are extremely married. They are a disaster trio of disasters so disastrous that no one else should ever be subjected to their chaos. They're going to make sure lots of people are, though, don't you worry about it. Sometimes those people even deserve it.

However, because the show (tragically!!) decides that Xiao Ge has somewhere else to be like 95% of the runtime, most of the relationship you get to see is between Wu Xie and Pangzi.

I'm saying this now as an old gay nerd who just this year celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary: I have never, never felt so represented in media as I have watching Wu Xie and Pangzi interact. There's a little wake-up song they sing together near the end of the show, and it just ... it packs so much character development into thirty seconds. These boys have been living adjacent lives for so long that they've made up their own little shared songs about the mundanities of daily living. That is just what happens when you marry your best friend and then decide to get old and weird together. Ask me how I know.

Look, if you want to know whether this show is for you or not, watch to the end of the first episode, to the part where Pangzi flips over the table. If your heart is filled with joy (as it should be), keep going.

Love makes a tomb-raiding syndicate family.

2. A fun-filled action-packed romp of nonsense!

If you're familiar with Hellblazer canon, this will make sense to you: Reunion is Dangerous Habits. If you're not familiar with Hellblazer canon, try it like this: Reunion is a terrible place to start because it plays on your extant affection for a character who gains a terrible status effect almost immediately. It's a also great place to start because it throws you right in the action with measurably high stakes and gives you a reason to build that affection very quickly.

I'm also going to warn you right off the bat: The plot of this show got cut to ribbons by censors.

See, the DMBJ books, being books, are allowed to get away with supernatural shit! So you've got zombies and ghosts and curses and monsters and immortality and all your other standard ooky spooky semi-urban fantasy trappings. But the DMBJ adaptations, being live-action, are heavily regulated in their content. This is why, in the early Reunion episodes, our heroes are menaced by human-looking creatures that are actually ancient mannequins made of leather that are piloted, mecha-style, by evil clams. Because evil clams are more scientific than zombies. I guess.

So yeah, the plot of this book already had to get mangled into a more "science"-compliant shape even before it made it to filming. The real problem is that a whole lot more of it got cut after it was all filmed and put together. I have read an explanation of what the actual storyline was supposed to be, and yeah, if you know what you’re looking at, you can see (and hear) the scars where major elements got hacked out with a weed whacker.

Therefore: You cannot expect this plot to make sense.

But that's okay! You're not here for the plot to make sense! You're here to watch some characters you love run around through ridiculous and sometimes beautiful labyrinths, trying to solve puzzles you're never given enough information to understand, all in search of the resolution to a mystery that had half its guts torn out before you got to see it -- and you are here to love it. If you have ever laughed and cheered your way through a Mission: Impossible film without pausing to care too much about the plot holes it’s dodging left and right, you are in the correct frame of mind to appreciate this. Just believe that whatever engaging nonsense the show tells you is correct for the time being and go with it.

You cannot watch DMBJ and care about the laws of physics. You simply cannot.

Do not, however, let me give you the impression that the shoddy plotting is accompanied by equally shoddy performances. A major part of this show’s incredible watchability comes from how the cast is shockingly good. There are some serious heavy hitters among the actors. A major part of why this Wu Xie and Pangzi are my favorite together is the incredible chops both Zhu Yilong and Chen Minghao have, to say nothing of their real-life affection for one another. (See that scar on Wu Xie's neck? That scar is there because Zhu Yilong commits to the bit.) Effortlessly charming Mao Xiaotong turns potentially irritating wunderkind Bai Haotian into a perfect precious weirdo baby. Wu Erbai's entire second-season character arc could have been unintentionally comedic, but veteran of queer cinema Hu Jun sells even the undignified moments as relentlessly tragic. And of course Baron Chen absolutely kills it with...

3. This giant fucking loser

This is Hei Xiazi. That's not his name, but it's close enough. Allow me to do a dramatic reenactment of my watching his first scene:

[camera pans over to him]

me: Ugh, I recognize this kind of wannabe badass character design. I hate his type. He's self-important, hyper-masculine, and just a big jerk, and the show thinks he's soooo cool. Barf.

[thirty seconds later]

me: Oh no. I was so wrong. I love him forever now.

This is because he is (as indicated above) a giant fucking loser. Yes, he's a good fighter who knows lots of things. He's also a wet potato chip of a man. Sure, he can get you into a headlock, but he can also annoy you into submission, and that's honestly more fun for him. My wife has used the phrase “Vash the Stampede-coded” to describe him. My wife is not wrong.

And the kind of ridiculous thing is, being such a loser is what wraps back around to making him cool again. He's a loser because he just doesn't fucking care. His masculinity is the opposite of fragile. You tell him to wear a dress and makeup, he'll do it -- and sure, he'll complain, but only because he enjoys complaining. He has no dignity. He’s tits-out. He's gender. He's the worst and also the best.

Hei Xiazi is a major character in the other installations, to the point where he and his boyfriend (more on him later) even have their own movie. But of course, I did not know this on my first watch, so I kept expecting the show to explain his whole deal. It does not, but you don't really need it to. He sees better in the dark. He doesn't age. He's a thug for hire. There, that's all the bio you need.

One of the things that makes him great is that he is the least sexually threatening person ever. Across all the properties he's in, he spends a fair amount of time with women -- sometimes in very close quarters -- and they are perfectly safe around him. I actually wrote a whole post about it once upon a time (warning for tiny spoilers for a series that isn't this one) wherein I claim that not only Xiazi but Reunion in general is the television equivalent of the shirt that says I RESPECT WOMEN SO MUCH I DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

That said, this loser does get a sort-of romance plot here -- and honestly, I find it very cute! It's not even the only instance in this series of a bisexual guy in a long-term same-sex relationship getting a girlfriend, and I like that other one too! Look, the handle of my DMBJ sideblog is @katamaricule because I joked that Wu Xie treats polyamory like a katamari, and if you don't move fast enough, you're going to be rolled right up into his gay little cuddle puddle.

This is not a show for exclusive ships; this is a show for inclusive ships. The Jiumen Association is a polycule. You don't even have to know what the Jiumen Association is to know it's true.

4. The power of friendship

This show has a lot of characters.

I'd say the supporting cast is divided into three categories: characters who have been in previous installments, characters who have not been in previous installments, and characters who probably should have been in previous installments (or at least mentioned) but who were only created for Reunion so we have to pretend like we've known about them all along.

There is no way to tell which is which -- which is part of my argument that this series makes a good entry point to the franchise.

Take Huo Daofu. Huo Daofu is a brilliant doctor masquerading as a donut stand operator who treats Wu Xie with all the cold disdain of a man confronting the person who left him at the altar years ago. On the one hand, yes! We do know Huo Daofu from a previous series, and we've known he's both a doctor and a bitch. On the other hand, oh, we have no idea why he's like this about Wu Xie, and we probably never will. The show just treats it like it's for an excellent reason, and you know what, from what you know about Wu Xie, it probably is.

Consider also Jiang Zisuan. One of the show's principal antagonists, Jiang Zisuan turns out to be the brother of ... well, let's just say it's someone whose having a brother really should have come up before this. It has not come up. (And that's even before we get into the issue of his surname.) His stated identity as that person's brother is so bizarre that my favorite interpretation is that he isn't actually that person's brother -- all the flashbacks we see are just his delusions about a relationship he's completely invented. But there's no way you'd know how fucking weird this is on your first run.

Then there's our friendly little support himbo, Kanjian, who shows up to all occasions with two tickets to the gun show and not a thought in that beautiful head. (His name just means "vest," which is par for the course when it comes to the author's naming conventions.) He was a lot more menacing in the last series (where they kept putting sleeves on him, geez), where most of what we learned about him is that you can loan him out to other tomb-raiding families. Now he's a golden retriever with great aim and a slingshot. It's an upgrade.

The trick is, you cannot be surprised when someone shows up and the show treats them like you should know who they are, even when there's no possible way you could know who they are. I mean, for heaven's sake, Liu Sang arrives in the middle of an obvious beef with Pangzi, the origins of which are never satisfactorily explained, while also having a giant do-I-want-to-fuck-him-or-do-I-want-to-be-him crush on Xiao Ge, which is also never satisfactorily explained. Whatever, you just roll with it. He's got good hearing, a bad attitude, and questionable taste in idols. Now you're good to go.

(I should throw in a special note here that Liu Sang is many, many people's little meow meow, and not undeservedly. For a fuller explanation of why that is, please consult this other post I made.)

Part of the fun of this big cast is the adorable interactions you get. All the characters have appropriately big personalities, and the show loves letting people you wouldn’t expect bounce off one another. It’s not your typical action-hero show where nothing happens without the protagonist in the room. There are lots of exciting combinations and tons of charming dynamics! Unlikely friendships form all over the place! Enemies become allies! Allies become friends! Friends become friends with other friends! Some friends become enemies again! You'll need a scoreboard to keep up!

This is not to say the show treats all its characters perfectly or equally -- one of the precious few main female characters doesn't even get a real name, for heaven's sake, and the less said about the brownface racism, the better. It is, at its heart, a dude show for dudes made in China, with all the troubling decision-making that implies. Where it does deserve credit, though, is in understanding that its supporting characters are actual people with personalities apart from their function in Wu Xie's narrative. Sometimes the show just asks "what if [random character A] and [random character B] had to interact?" and has fun considering the answer! Which is almost always a delight to watch, and sometimes even breaks your heart.

5. Amazing rewatch value!

And by this I mean the experience of watching this show is remarkably different once you have any understanding of the rest of the DMBJ universe.

For instance, there's a point where two characters are scuba-diving past some submerged coffins, and one character tells the other whose coffins they are. Working only on information Reunion has given you, you're like, oh, that's where they buried the guy who built this creepy place, that's a little weird. Once you recognize that name from other series, though, your reaction is far more, excuse me, they did WHAT to WHOSE corpses?

Or another point where a character you've already met is on a train, and there's a handsome gentleman who just happens to be riding with her. He hands her his business card! Aw, that's sweet, he seems like a nice guy! Well, no, Xie Yuchen is not nice, but he is one of our allies, and he's Hei Xiazi's boyfriend, and a lot of what he's doing hits real different when you have a fuller grasp on why he's doing it and for whom. (Honestly, a major reason to watch Reunion first is so you're not fully and appropriately upset by how your black/pink gays merely have one teeny tiny scene together.)

From the way the series treats the persistent absence of Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie's third uncle, I absolutely, 100% assumed that he was a completely new character to this installment of the series, an extremely long-lost relative that we've somehow conveniently managed to never talk about before now. So imagine my gobsmacked surprise when I went to watch a different series, set much earlier in the timeline, where the opening scene prominently features Wu Sanxing as an actual character in the present-day narrative! ...Well, sorta. Look, there's a lot of fuckery with his identity in earlier parts of the story, and fortunately you need to know none of it to understand Reunion. But when you do, it suddenly makes a lot more sense why Wu Xie talks about someone who was a major part of Wu Xie's adult life like he died when Wu Xie was nine.

AND THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE A-NING GETS KILLED BY THE SNAKE, AND YOU'RE LIKE, OKAY, AND THEN YOU WATCH ULTIMATE NOTE AND IT WASN'T LIKE THAT AT ALL look, I know there are kinda reasons for this, different production companies and all, but seriously, what the fuck

All of which to say is that the experience of watching Reunion the first time is, hey, this self-contained romp is a lot of fun! The experience of rewatching it after watching any of the other DMBJ installments is a transcendently wonderful head-clutching avalanche of one moment of recognition right after another.

And here's the thing: You will watch more. Reunion is a gateway drug. If you are interested enough to make it through all 62 episodes, you're going to be interested in watching more. Which is great. The English-speaking fandom needs more people. Come down into the tombs. It's great down here. We've got snakes and arguably unintentional homoeroticism. Join us. Join usssssssss

Are you ready for an aventure?

There are a couple different ways to watch the first half, but there's (weirdly) only one way to watch the second, so for both of them, I'm going to send you straight to iQiyi: Season 1 (32 episodes) and Season 2 (30 episodes).

And just so you’re ready when Reunion is done, here’s how you find the rest of the DMBJ series, in the absolutely non-chronological order in which I, personally, think you should watch them:

The Lost Tomb 2 (AsianCrush, YouTube)

Ultimate Note (iQiyi)

The Mystic Nine (iQiyi, Viki)

Sand Sea/Tomb of the Sea (Viki, WeTV, YouTube, also YouTube)

Also, there's a lot of movies and side series and other pieces that are worth seeing, and even a couple of full series I've left off the list, and you can just slot them in wherever. And maybe we'll get Tibetan Sea Flower someday? Look, hope springs eternal.

They're so perfect. Perfect triangle. Perfect boys.

#dmbj #重启 #重启之极海听雷 #盗墓笔记 #Reunion: The Sound of the Providence #the lost tomb reboot #rec post #i made this

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gamergirl929 · 2 months

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When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

A reunion of childhood best friends would typically be a jubilant affair, but not in this case. No, because you were about to reunite with none other than Alex Morgan, the woman who left you behind when you were kids, the woman who'd broken not only your heart but your spirit as well.

I really want to thank @kingofmyheart-19, without them I doubt this fic would have gotten done, they helped so much and listened to my ranting on plot ideas and gave me some of their own, so thank you so, so much for the help, it was SO appreciated! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ They're also a writer as well, so feel free to go check out their page!

Disclaimer: This fic could be very triggering to some, it deals with abuse, speicifically child abuse, so if that's going to trigger you PLEASE skip this one. If you're still here, get ready for a 9K emotional roller coaster. As always, I'd really love to hear what you all think, this has been a fic I've been wanting to write for so long and I'm so happy it's done, so please, let me know what you think.

⚠️Trigger Warning: Child Abuse/Mentions of Child Abuse ⚠️

You closed your eyes, practicing the deep breathing you learned in therapy before your eyes open, the stadium where you would meet the USWNT looming overhead.

You knew you would see her, that you would have to see her, you were now working for her team after all, but the thought of your reunion made your stomach twist.

You could feel your chest tighten, a panic attack looming as you thought about your Y/E/C orbs meeting hers.

You wondered if they were still the same bright blues you remembered.

You shake your head rapidly, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind.

Just because you were about to see each other again after so long, didn’t mean things were the same as they once were, she’d left you behind, and you didn’t think you could ever forgive her for that.

You didn’t know if you could ever forgive Alex Morgan for what she did, in all honesty, you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

With one final deep breath you slip out of your rental car and make your way towards the arena, mere minutes from reuniting with the woman that broke your heart.

************************************************************************

If there was one thing Alex Morgan didn’t expect, it was to see you making your way across the field towards her and the team, Emma Hayes at your side.

Her throat bobbed as she took you in.

You’d gotten taller, easily towering over her.

Your jawline was much sharper, and visibly clenched, something she used to get on you about when you were growing up.

The second your eyes met hers, her heart stalled in her chest, the Y/E/C orbs that would once soften when they locked with her blues, were now cold and sharp.

“Y/N...” Alex whispers when you’re in earshot and you glance her way.

“Do I know you?” You ask, a harshness to your tone that takes her aback, she’d never heard you speak that way, especially to her.

Her mouth opens and closes rapidly, the woman searching for anything at all to say, but it’s as if her vocal cords had stopped working.

Her teammates eye her curiously, their eyes darting between the two of you.

“Well, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s going to be our new trainer, she comes HIGHLY recommended, so try to make her feel welcome, okay?” Emma smiles, in no way missing the way Alex stares pleadingly at your profile.

Eventually, your eyes catch hers, her orbs the same bright blues that you often found yourself getting lost in years ago.

Alex isn’t able to utter a single word before you’re turning on your heels and moving towards the sidelines, Emma Hayes in toe.

Alex jumps when a hand settles on her back, a hand belonging to her longtime friend, Kelley O’Hara.

“Are you okay Al? Is something wrong?” She asks, able to read the woman’s face easily, picking up on the fact that she was incredibly upset.

“Ye-Yeah.” Alex stammers, her blues orbs burning holes in your back as you move out of sight.

“Everything is fine.”

**********************************************************************

The second Alex saw you, all the emotions she tried so, so hard to bury came rushing back, hitting her like a tidal wave.

She wasn’t prepared for the way you looked at her, your eyes hard and icy, a look she vaguely remembered when she spotted you in the hallways of your high school, your books hugged to your chest and a new bruise gracing your face or your arms, the woman knowing full well that more bruises were hidden beneath your clothes.

She knew deep down she deserved it; she severed ties with you when you needed her the most, and she could never wash away the guilt she felt every time you passed her in the hallway, your face twisted in a pained grimace.

That night, she stares at the ceiling, her blue orbs glassy as she remembers the first time, she saw signs of the abuse you were enduring at home.

***********************************************************************

“What are those from?” A small Alex Morgan asks as she points to the circular marks dotting your forearm, the skin a bright and angry red, the wounds fresh.

You shake your head rapidly, pulling your arm away from her.

“N-N-Nothing.” You mumble, the girl scoffing as she gently takes your arm, her blue orbs zeroing in on the sores covering your arm.

“What happened?” She asks and you shake your head, tears glistening in your Y/E/C orbs.

“Y/N...” She whispers, gently rubbing your arm, careful not to touch the marks.

“You can tell me anything...” She says, frowning when she sees a tear streaming down your cheek.

“What happened?” She asks again and you swallow, your mouth opening and closing before you croak out a single word.

“Dad.”

**********************************************************************

Needless to say, Alex didn’t sleep well that night, her mind racing, wondering if the wounds on your arm had increased in number.

She honestly wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

Eventually, Alex dragged herself onto the bus that morning, her blue orbs immediately finding your Y/E/C’s.

You almost immediately turn away, as if you’re unable to look at her for too long.

She pauses, attempting to find something, anything to say to you, but again, she finds herself unable to speak.

She sighs in defeat before making her way towards the back of the bus, unaware that your eyes are on her, your nostrils flaring.

She had no right to speak to you, no right to even look at you, not after the things she’d done, not after she’d left you behind to be abused and neglected.

You growl, turning towards the front of the bus, your fingers curling around the seat in front of you.

If you had anything to say about it, you wouldn’t speak to Alex Morgan ever again, in reality, it wasn’t that you wouldn’t it was that you couldn’t.

**********************************************************************

Unfortunately, you’re forced to speak to her, the forward seeking you out when you reach the hotel, pushing her way into the elevator with you.

Your throat bobs as you stare blankly forward, your foot tapping and hands trembling, something Alex notices immediately.

“Y/N.” She whispers, her voice cracking, the sound pulling at your heartstrings, that sadness ebbing away a beat later.

“Y/N, you can’t ignore me forever.” She sighs and you shake your head.

“I told you; I have no idea who you are.” You say, the woman growling as you hastily exit the elevator, her hand catching your wrist, something that noticeably makes you jump.

“That’s bullshit Y/N, and you know--

Your lip curls in a snarl as you jerk your arm from her grasp.

“I USED to have a friend named Alex Morgan, but that was a long time ago.” You say through gritted teeth before turning on your heels and marching down the hallway, leaving a crestfallen Alex Morgan behind.

**********************************************************************

Despite the fact that your last interaction didn’t go well, Alex continued to try and speak to you, popping up seemingly everywhere.

Unfortunately, you would be on the road for a significant amount of time considering it was She Believes Season, the entirety of the team together more often than not.

The close quarters resulted in early mornings, and one morning, you’d made the mistake of rolling up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the multiple scars littering your skin.

Alex stiffened the moment she saw them, tears filling her blue orbs as she saw the massive number of burns on your skin, burns she knew were made by the end of a cigarette.

She’s unable to keep the tears in her eyes at bay, tears streaming down her cheeks.

You pick your head up, the feel of someone staring at you setting the hairs of your arms on end.

Your eyes catch hers and your brows furrow, following her gaze to the scars dotting your arms.

Your eyes meet hers before dropping to your marred arm, your nostrils flaring as you turn away, tugging your arm out of view.

“Alex...?”

Alex jumps, her eyes meeting Kelley’s concerned brown orbs.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” She asks, watching as Alex wipes her tears away with the sleeve of her sweater.

“It’s alright Kel, it’s nothing.” She sniffles, her eyes burning holes in the back of your head.

Kelley eyes her profile worriedly before turning away reluctantly, wondering what it was that was troubling her so.

**********************************************************************

“When did that happen?” Alex asks when she catches you in the hallway on your way to your hotel room.

You turn on your heels, coming face to face with the woman you’d been trying to avoid, her blue orbs zeroed in on your scarred arm.

You pull your arm out of view, tucking it behind you.

“Like you care.” You bite, turning on your heels to take your leave.

“Y/N, you can tell me anything.” She whispers, her words stopping you in your tracks, taking you back to the day on the playground when you’d first told her that your father had burned your arm, when you’d first told her your father was abusing you.

“Like you don’t know.” You mumble, unable to turn to face her, tears stinging your eyes.

Your breath hitches when she slips around you, gently taking your wrist and inspecting your arm closely.

You’re unable to stop your heart from skipping a beat when she brushes the scars, her touch light and tender.

The scars were generally perfect circles, aside from those that overlapped, forming random shapes along your arm.

Alex frowned as she caressed the lumpy and disfigured skin, her eyes glazing over.

“Don’t act like you care.” You mutter, the forward frowning.

“I do care, Y/N.”

You scoff, pulling your arm out of her grasp, briefly missing the way her fingertips felt against your skin.

“If you cared Alex, I wouldn’t have these.” You growl, her throat bobbing.

“You can’t blame me for that Y/N, it isn’t fair.”

You bark out a laugh, the sound taking her by surprise.

“I wouldn’t have half the scars I do if it wasn’t for you. You abandoned me when I needed you the most, and for what Alex!?” You yell, surprised by the sound of your own voice and the anger in your tone.

Alex’s mouth opens and closes rapidly, the forward unable to find her words, that being enough to send you shoving passed her, your shoulder knocking hers as you make your way down the hall towards your hotel room, leaving the woman behind, just as she’d done to you.

That night, you can’t help but stare at your shirtless self in the mirror, the scars typically hidden beneath your clothes revealed, of course, to your eyes only.

How could you ever forgive Alex when your skin looked like yours?

How could you ever forgive the woman that you’d blamed for receiving them in the first place?

***********************************************************************

It was unsurprising to Alex that you put so much pressure on her during practice, as if getting back at her for all the pain she caused.

“Pick it up Morgan!” You yell, Alex noticeably slacking considering you’d spent the practice already putting her through the ringer.

It’s only after her drills end that she comes to a halt, panting heavily, her hands on her knees as she attempts to fill her lungs with air.

You shake your head, making your way towards her and leaning down.

“You don’t just make the team because you’re a pretty face, you know that right?” You bite, the forward shooting you a glare.

Your brows furrow when the corners of her mouth tick upward.

“Did you just say I’m pretty?” She teases and you scoff, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Of course, THAT’S what you take from that.”

Alex’s lips split in a grin, her smile just as bright as it always had been, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

“Hey, you said it, not me.” She smirks and you roll your eyes, turning her towards the remainder of the team before giving her a light shove.

“Get your ass over there Morgan.” You grumble, her grin widening before she skips towards the others.

You roll your eyes, unable to hold back a small smile as you too make your way towards the team.

**********************************************************************

The distance between you and Alex was still massive, no bridge long enough to bring the two of you together.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Alex’s part, whereas she tried to reach out, you’d only pull back, unwilling to bridge the gap, in fact, increasing its size.

Alex watched as you focused your attention Lindsey’s knee, wrapping it gently, the blonde saying something to you she can’t quite hear, but whatever it was, it makes you smile, a smile that still makes her heart skip a beat after all these years.

You move to your feet, giving the midfielder a pat on the shoulder before she turns and jogs onto the field.

“Thanks Y/N!” Emily says patting your back a bit harder than intended, as she jogs passed following Lindsey onto the field.

You go ridged, your hands trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.

Alex jogs towards you, the emotional turmoil you were experiencing unnoticed by the remainder of the team.

“Y/N...?” Alex whispers as she gently takes your trembling hands in her own, stopping their quaking.

Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, an anxiety attack impending, something Alex had seen happen to you multiple times before.

“Y/N?” She says again, giving your hands a squeeze, this time however, you speak.

“I said I was sorry... Please don’t…” You mutter, Alex’s eyes widening before immediately filling with tears.

“Come on.” She whispers, silently guiding you away from the team, catching sight of Emma Hayes watching the two of you, the forward shaking her head rapidly.

When you’re in a secluded spot, Alex cups your cheeks.

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut even more so than they already were, your hands shaking violently.

The tears in Alex’s eyes begin to stream down her face as she tries to think of something, ANYTHING to get you out of the catatonic state you’re in.

Her eyes widen, a memory flickering in the back of her mind as she pulls you into her, one arm around you and the other resting on the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in the fine hairs there.

She remembered holding you that way in high school, before your friendship ended, a nightmare pulling you from your sleep one night as the two of you slept side by side.

“I’ve got you.” She whispers in your ear, drawing lazy circles against the nape of your neck.

“And I’m not letting you go, never again.” She whispers, cooing softly in your ear.

Your breathing begins to slow, the motion of her fingers against the nape of your neck lulling you into a sense of calm, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

She knew when you realized it was her that was holding you, you’d pull away, and the thought tore her heart in two.

You begin to relax, your shoulders sagging as your eyes slowly flutter open.

Almost immediately you move out of Alex’s hold, the forward frowning, missing the way you felt against her, missing the way her fingers felt tangled in your hair.

“What the hell are you doing?” You snarl, putting as much distance as you possibly can between the two of you.

“I-I didn’t know what else to do, you were having a panic attack.” She explains, her voice quivering.

You scoff.

“I didn’t NEED your help, I would’ve been just fine without you, like I ALWAYS have been.” You bark out before hastily leaving the room, not even sparing a glance back at the woman whose shoulder you roughly knocked into on your way out.

**********************************************************************

Even though you were angry at her, you knew you had to thank Alex.

You couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if Alex hadn’t taken charge and took you to a secluded place to calm down, using a technique she became accustomed to using in your later high school years.

You could still feel her fingers gently drawing circles against the nape of your neck, something you longed to feel again, but you wouldn’t let her get that close again, you couldn’t.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when the very woman who’d been on your mind comes towards you, the woman silently shuffling from foot to foot as she waits to get her ankle wrapped.

You give Kelley a smile, the defender’s ankle wrapped in her own bit of tape before she jogs off, turning and giving Alex’s hand a squeeze on her way passed.

Alex comes to a stop in front of you, her throat bobbing as you gently take her ankle in your hands.

You’re silently wrapping her ankle in bright pink tape when you finally find your voice.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, blue orbs widening as they meet your Y/E/C’s.

“You don’t need to be.” She smiles softly and you clear your throat, the sight of that smile effecting you more than you’d care to admit.

“I do." You sigh, the forwards cheeks flushing as you subconsciously caress her ankle.

“You...” You swallow hard, your throat bobbing.

“If you weren’t there for me the other day, I don’t know what I would’ve done, so... Thank you, Alex.” You whisper, clearing your throat, your eyes widening when you realize you’d been running your thumb gently back and forth along her ankle.

You give her a nod, reluctantly releasing her ankle, your old friend staring down at you for a moment before she smiles.

“You don’t have to thank me.” She mumbles softly, before her lips split in a grin.

“But you’re welcome.”

You watch as she makes her way onto the field, a smile stretching across your own face as you turn to Lindsey Horan, the blonde waiting for her knee to be wrapped.

However, you can’t help but look passed her, specifically at Alex Morgan, the woman beaming, wearing a smile you hadn’t seen her wear in a long, long time.

A smile that makes the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir, butterflies that died a long, long time ago, butterflies that were slowly coming back to life.

You didn’t like that the feelings you did your best to bury were resurfacing.

You blamed her, you were supposed to hate her, but the more she smiled your way, the more that anger and blame started to ebb away.

Your brows furrow as your phone again begins to ring, an unknown number stretched across its screen.

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto the top of a nearby bag.

Alex glances your way, smiling softly when your eyes meet.

The relationship between the two of you began to slowly change, you no longer looked at her with absolute disdain, instead wearing an expression she couldn’t quite place.

It’s when Emma Hayes blows her whistle that Alex sighs, making her way towards her bag, unaware that your phone had slipped inside.

She runs her hand through her sweat covered hair, catching sight of you out of the corner of her eye as you chat with Emma Hayes, a smile on your face.

She’d missed seeing that smile, mostly, she missed seeing that smile directed at her.

She turns away, reluctantly, unaware that your phone was buried deep inside her bag.

**********************************************************************

You growl, searching wildly through your bag in an attempt to find your phone, sighing when you come up empty.

You flop down onto your hotel room’s bed, your head in your hands.

The last thing you wanted to do today was lose your phone, but here you were, attempting to remember where you’d last seen the device.

A tentative knock on your hotel room door makes you jump, your brows furrowing as you make your way towards it.

You tug the door open, your eyes widening and brows knitting in confusion when you see Alex standing behind the door, the woman shuffling nervously from foot to foot.

“Uhhh, yeah?” You say, the woman nodding into your hotel room.

“Can I come in?” She asks and you hum, eyeing her intently before you step aside, uncertain why you’d allowed her into your room.

The door clicks shut behind you before you turn towards her, your arms crossed across your chest.

“What is it?” You ask, your eyes widening when you realize she was holding your phone.

“I found it in my bag.” She says, the look on her face telling you there was something more to the reason why she was in your room.

“Th-Thanks.” You stutter, taking it from her hand, the forward’s throat bobbing.

“It was ringing, and I answered it.” She says, your brows knitting, anger building in your chest at the thought of the woman invading your privacy.

“I’m-I’m sorry Y/N, I promise, I really didn’t know it was your phone.” She stutters, the anger you were feeling dissipating at the look on Alex’s face.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” You ask and she, sheepishly nods.

“It was your mother.”

Your eyes double in size, your body going ridged at the mention of the woman who’d done nothing, merely watching as your father abused and neglected you, a woman you hadn’t talked to since you were kicked out at 18.

You make your way towards your bed, taking a seat on its end, Alex making her way towards you, waiting until you give her a nod before she too sits down.

The room is enveloped in silence for a moment before you find your voice.

“Wh-What did she want?” You stammer, realizing the calls you’d been getting the last few days must have been from your mother.

Alex swallows hard, staring at her intertwined fingers, her mouth opening and closing.

“It’s your dad.” She whispers, noting the hitch in your breath, the woman unable to stop herself from reaching for, and covering your hand.

You find yourself taking comfort in her touch, something you thought you would never do again.

“What happened?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alex clears her throat, seemingly searching for what to say before she mutters.

“He’s dying.”

You snort, in a sick sense, happy that the man who destroyed your childhood was about to die.

“Your mom said, he wants to...” She pauses, staring at your profile as she speaks.

“He wants to apologize, for everything, before he passes.”

You stiffen, your hands balling into fists, Alex’s thumb delicately running along your white knuckles.

You chuckle.

“Of course he does. He wants to clear his own conscious before he dies.” You snarl angrily, the thought of calling your mother and ripping her a new one prominent in your mind.

Alex remains silent, your brows furrowing as you turn towards her, her mouth opening and closing rapidly.

“What?” You ask, the forward shrugging.

“I may have...” She stops mid-sentence, shuffling nervously.

“Said some things.”

Your brows arch, noting that she’s refusing to look you in the eye.

“Like what?” You ask and she clears her throat.

“I may have told her your dad was a piece of shit, and that you didn’t owe him anything, that he doesn’t deserve to see you after all he did, and that she was a bitch who doesn’t deserve to see you either because she was just as guilty. He abused you, and she just watched and did nothing about it.”

Your brows arch, your eyes burning holes in the side of Alex’s head before you laugh, her blue orbs widening as she turns towards you.

You wrap your arms around your middle as you’re overcome with laughter, the thought of the look on your mother’s face as Alex tore her a new one, and the look on her face when it was Alex that answered the phone making you laugh uncontrollably.

You knew her and your father weren’t her biggest fans, considering she treated you the way you were meant to be treated, and loved you in a way that they never did.

“I would’ve paid to see that.” You say, wiping a tear from your eyes, the forward beside you smiling, her lips splitting into a grin.

“I meant what I said, you don’t owe them anything Y/N, even if he’s dying, you don’t have to go to see him, unless you want to.”

You shake your head, your eyes dropping to your and Alex’s joined hands, the feel of her hand in your own making your heart skip a beat.

“I know.” You say, taking a deep breath before exhaling loudly.

“I kind of want to see him, to show him that even though he treated me the way he did, he didn’t break me, that I became successful, and I didn’t need him or my mother to do it.”

You swallow hard, your gaze falling to your lap.

“I suppose...” You pause, frowning, unable to stop tears forming in your eyes.

“I suppose he did break me, didn’t he?” You mutter, your eyes widening a gasp leaving you as Alex’s hand leaves your own, the woman instead wrapping her arms tightly around you.

The tears that formed in your eyes began streaming down your cheeks as she held you tightly, her cheek pressing against your shoulder.

“He didn’t Y/N.” She whispers, squeezing you gently, not wanting to throw you into a panic attack like you’d had the other day.

You close your eyes, sagging in her hold, the hotel room falling silent as you simply let Alex hold you in her arms, a feeling you didn’t realize you’d missed so much.

You’re unsure of what makes you say it, but before you can think your lips are moving.

“I don’t know if I can face them alone.” You confess, Alex turning her head and kissing your temple, the woman stiffening when she realizes what she did, though she in no way relinquishes her hold on you.

“You don’t have to Y/N.” She whispers, smiling when she feels your arm slip around her.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart lightening in your chest at the thought of the forward coming back to your hometown with you.

“I’ll go with you.” She mutters nervously, leaning heavily into you, her hold on you tightening.

You go silent before you rest your head against hers, a soft sigh leaving you as you give her side a squeeze.

“I think I’d like that very much.”

**********************************************************************

The relationship between you drastically changed after that, the bridge was all but mended, the two of you almost as inseparable as when you were kids.

And when the She Believes Tournament ended, with the USWNT as the victors, you and Alex decided it was time to prepare to head back to your hometown, a place that held so many bad memories for you.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your apartment door, your hand freezing on the doorknob as you take a deep breath.

Despite the fact that things were better between the two of you, you still got nervous, worried that she would disappear again and break your heart.

You pull the door open slowly, Alex smiling when your eyes meet hers, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder a suitcase in one hand.

“Are you ready?” She asks as you step aside, allowing her inside, the woman taking in your small apartment.

“Honestly, not really.” You sigh, leaning against the island in your kitchenette.

Alex makes her way towards you with a frown, taking your hands, the gesture making your cheeks flush.

“Well, you’re not going alone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” She whispers as she caresses your knuckles.

You couldn’t lie, the feelings you had for Alex had resurfaced, and the closer you became, the more you realized that the feelings you had in high school had come back, tenfold.

You were in love with the woman currently holding your hands, the woman whose blue orbs sparkled when she smiled, the woman who’d broken your heart all those years ago.

You give her hands a squeeze, noting the flush of her own cheeks.

“I know.” You whisper pushing yourself off the island and moving to your full height.

“And it means a lot to me.” You say, bashfully staring at the floor beneath your feet.

Alex smiles softly, turning your hands over in her own before intertwining your fingers.

“It’s the least I could do.” She says, giving your hands a squeeze.

Her hands leave yours reluctantly and you sigh, missing the feel of her smooth palms against your own.

“Well, let’s go.”

**********************************************************************

Alex’s fingers drum on the steering wheel, her eyes darting to the passenger's seat, where you're fast asleep.

She knew this journey would take a toll on you, she knew that this was one of the hardest things you ever had to do, and she was happy you’d allowed her to be along for the ride.

You mumble in your sleep, your brows furrowing as your head turns back and forth.

Alex reaches towards you, gently covering your hand with her own as she pulls into the tiny roadside hotel the two of you were planning on staying in for the night before you reach your hometown the following day.

“Hey.” Alex whispers, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your eyes slowly flutter open, your brows furrowing as you blink rapidly to clear your vision.

“Are we here?” You rasp, the sound of your sleepy voice making her smile lovingly.

“No, we’re at the hotel.”

You hum, stretching your arms above your head before you open the passenger's side door and slip out with a groan.

Alex slides out the driver’s side door, she too stretching.

“We had reservations, right?” You ask and she nods rapidly.

“I’ll go check us in.”

You watch her go with a small smile, the woman disappearing into the small hotel’s lobby, leaving you with the suitcases, which you didn’t mind.

You lean back against Alex’s car, staring up at the random hotel you’d decided to stop at on your way home.

You sigh, leaning your head against the car behind you.

You didn’t want to go home, you didn’t want to face your father and your mother, but you knew you had to.

You had to show them that you were well off, you had to show them that you’d made it without them, that you survived your father’s abuse and your mother’s refusal to do anything about it.

And having Alex Morgan by your side was just a plus, a major plus.

You remember your father taunting you, making comments about how Alex had finally learned how pathetic you were and made the right decision to distance herself from you.

Your throat bobs as you bite your bottom lip, staving off tears at the thought of your father’s harsh words.

Your mother wanted you to come home to hear their apology, but you had ulterior motives.

You were never going to accept her apology, and you were certainly never going to accept his, much like his apologies during your childhood, they meant absolutely nothing, and that wasn’t about to change.

“Hey.”

You jump, your eyes flashing open, immediately locking with Alex’s blue orbs.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern evident in her tone.

You clear your throat, pushing off the car as you nod.

“Yeah, I’m just fine.”

***********************************************************************

It didn’t take long for the two of you to settle into your room, the pair of you flopping down onto the beds you’d be sleeping on for the night.

“I’m so tired.” You yawn, rolling off the bed and heading to your suitcase.

Before you realize what, you’re doing, you tug your shirt over your head, revealing your near bare back to the woman in the opposite bed.

“Oh my god.”

You twist on your heels, your eyes wide.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” You ask as you approach the forward, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What is—

You pause your throat bobbing as you glance down at yourself, realizing your torso was bare, covered only by the sports bra you were wearing.

Meaning each and every scar that covered your flesh was revealed, scars dotting your arms, as well as covering your chest and back.

Alex’s hands tremble as she makes her way towards you, her eyes focused intently on your chest, a number of scars littering your skin, some from glass, some from a belt, and others you couldn’t really remember.

Lashes covered your stomach, as well as your back, red welts made mostly by your father’s favorite belt.

A wide array of cigarette burns covered your skin, mostly all over your arms, but some were on your chest and stomach.

“Jesus Christ.” Alex whispers, her voice cracking as she places her hands on your shoulders, taking in the destruction your father left behind on your skin.

“I-I...” She stammers, her bottom lip trembling as she turns you around, lash marks covering your back, overlapping into a mess of patterns.

Alex sobs, your breath hitching as she wraps her arms around you from behind, burying her face in the nape of your neck.

“I’m so sorry.” She cries, clinging onto you for dear life, her tears running down your scarred back.

You turn in her hold, wrapping your arms tightly around her, the woman burying her face in your neck as she cries.

“This is all my fault.” She sniffs, realizing that you hadn’t had the scars you do before the two of you had stopped being friends.

You shake your head, your chin resting on the top of her head.

“It isn’t. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.” You whisper, ducking down to kiss her head.

Alex pulls back, her watery blue orbs locking with your equally watery Y/E/C’s.

“It is Y/N!” She cries, searching your face intently.

“You didn’t have these before we stopped being friends.” She says, whimpering as she takes in your scars again.

“I—

“No.” She says, shaking her head rapidly.

“If I would’ve just told you how I felt, you wouldn’t have these.” She sniffles, your eyes widening, and brows furrowing.

“What do you mean?” You ask, staring closely at the woman’s face, noting the way her throat bobs.

“Come on, Al.” You whisper, gently placing your hands on her waist.

“You can tell me anything.” You say, repeating the words she’d said on the playground so long ago.

Much to your surprise, she stares at you blankly for a moment before leaning in, your breath catching as her lips meet yours.

The butterflies that recently began to stir, burst to life as you kiss your childhood best friend, something you’d wanted to do for so long.

Your lips lock, the kiss stimulating every one of your nerve endings.

You never wanted it to end, you never wanted to stop kissing Alex Morgan.

She sighs against your lips as you kiss passionately, feelings the two of you had for so long now revealed.

Reluctantly, you part, Alex’s forehead resting against yours as you catch your breath.

“Wow.” You whisper, smiling when Alex leans in for another kiss, this one softer, and shorter than the one you’d just shared.

Alex’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds before she clears her throat.

“I didn’t know how to tell you back then how I felt, I was scared, I thought if I pushed you away, the feelings would go away, but they didn’t.”

She cups your cheeks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“They never went away, because I love you, Y/N.” She confesses, your eyes doubling in size, your heart skipping a beat.

“I always have, I just never knew how to say it...”

She licks her lips, inhaling deeply before continuing.

“When I saw you walking across the field, those feelings came flooding back.”

She rests her forehead against yours.

“I love you Y/N, I always have, and I always will.”

The room falls silent, the woman in front of you baring her entire soul to you, the knowledge that she’d felt the same making your stomach lurch with excitement.

You lean in, pressing a feather light kiss to her lips.

“I love you too, Al.” You whisper, Alex smiling against your lips as she throws her arms around your neck, kissing you passionately, the feel of her lips against yours something she couldn't get enough of.

The kisses remain tame, the urge to turn them into something more not present in any sense, the two of you catching up on the tender and loving kisses you’d missed when growing up.

You again, reluctantly part, your arms wrapping tightly around Alex, the forward burying her nose in the crook of your neck.

Unfortunately, your lips part in a lengthy, and loud yawn, the woman in your arms giggling as she leans back, leaning in to peck your lips before stepping out of your embrace.

“We should get some sleep, huh?” She asks and you nod, making your way towards your suitcase and grabbing the shirt you’d first intended to put on.

“Wait.” Alex whispers, placing her hand gently on your back so as to not scare you.

You turn to face her, a single brow arched as she motions to the shirt in your hands.

“Keep it off.” She says your throat bobbing as your eyes dart from Alex’s blue orbs to the shirt and back.

You hum, dropping the shirt before grabbing a few things from your suitcase and nodding to the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back.” You smile, pecking her lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

Alex, meanwhile, makes her way towards her own suitcase, slipping into a pair of shorts and a tank top just as you’re moving out of the bathroom.

She turns towards you, noting the way you shuffle on your feet, a sports bra covering your upper torso and a pair of sweats hugging your hips.

She holds her hand out, motioning towards one of the beds, your cheeks flushing at the silent invitation.

Nervously, you make your way towards her, her hand immediately settling on your bare stomach before she nods towards the bed.

“Do you want to share?” She asks in an uncertain whisper.

You gently take her chin between your thumb and index finger, tilting her head upwards until her blue orbs meet your Y/E/C’s.

“I’d love nothing more.”

Eventually, you turn the overhead light off, and shuffle into bed, the flickering TV the only thing bringing some source of light to the room.

Alex leans back, her blue orbs dragging down your front, taking in the scars covering your chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat when she ducks down, gently kissing a long scar running along your collarbone before turning her attention to the others she can reach.

Your eyes flutter shut, the feel of her lips a complete contrast to what it felt like to get the scars in the first place.

You can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks before you realize you’re crying.

Alex pulls away from you, tears forming in her own eyes when she sees you’re crying.

She cups your cheeks, pressing a tender, and loving kiss to your lips.

“Shhhhh.” She coos, her fingers running through your hair as you bury your face in her neck.

It isn’t long before you fall silent, falling fast asleep, tear tracks visible on your face as your childhood best friend holds you tightly.

She ducks down, kissing the top of your head, a hum leaving you as you snuggle closer.

“I love you Y/N, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”

**********************************************************************

The remainder of the journey is uneventful, Alex’s hand in yours more often than not, the woman kissing you tenderly any chance she got, realizing how much the feel of her lips against yours calmed you.

Before you realize it, you’re passing the sign informing you that you’d made it, you’d made it to the place that held so many awful memories for you.

You cling to Alex’s hand tightly, the woman noting the feel of your clammy palm against hers.

“We’re here.” She whispers and you nod, your chest tightening.

“Y-Y-Yeah...” You stammer, the air within the car becoming less and less until you feel as if you’re unable to breathe.

Alex almost immediately pulls to the side of the road, gently cupping your cheeks, her forehead resting against yours.

“It’s alright.” She whispers, taking your hand and pressing it against her own chest.

“Try to match me.”

You whimper, tears running down your face, but your breathing halts entirely when you feel Alex’s lips pressing against yours.

You slowly part, noting the fact that your anxiety attack had been stopped dead in its tracks, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Are you okay?” She says softly, her lips brushing yours as she whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut, the tightness in your chest ebbing slightly, but not entirely going away, you knew what you had to do to get it to go away, and that was to confront your father.

“I have to confront him before I’ll be okay.” You confess, Alex kissing your lips again before turning her attention to the road.

“Well, let’s go do that.”

Alex takes your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours as you stand outside the hospital where your father and mother are, the aforementioned woman making her way towards you, tears in her eyes.

“Y/N...” She says, opening her arms, but quickly realizing the last thing she’d get was a hug from you, especially considering Alex had stepped partially in front of you, her protective side warming your heart considerably.

Your mother comes to a stop, her throat bobbing.

“I understand.” She says and your nostrils flare.

“Where is he?” You say curtly, Alex gently squeezing your hand, earning a squeeze in return.

Your mother frowns before nodding to the hospital.

“This way.”

**********************************************************************

Your mother didn’t even attempt to make small talk on the way to the room, she knew you weren’t there to embrace her and forgive her for everything she didn’t do when you were growing up.

Alex’s hand remained in yours, even as your grip on her hand became painful, she didn’t let go.

You needed an anchor, and she would be that anchor, for as long as you needed and as long as you would let her.

Your mother comes to a stop outside one of the many hospital rooms before turning towards you, her hands clasped in front of her.

“He’s in here.” She says, unable to look you in the eye.

“Please, try not to upset him, he doesn’t have much time left.”

Your lip's part, your nostrils flaring angrily, before you can speak however, Alex beats you to it.

“Yeah, because he cared so much about not upsetting Y/N when she was growing up.” She bites, your mother having the decency to look remorseful.

She didn’t abuse you, she never hit you, but she allowed it, and it was that thought that made you keep distance between the two of you, you weren’t about to forgive the woman who stood aside while your father scarred your body and beat you senseless.

She simply nods before stepping aside, motioning towards the room, knowing full well that the visit wasn’t going to go how your father expected.

You come to a stop, your chest tightening at the thought of seeing the man again, your free hand beginning to shake.

Alex turns you towards her, the woman cupping your cheek with her free hand, the other in a vice grip.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” She whispers, resting her forehead against your own.

You nod, your throat bobbing.

“Promise?” You whisper, your voice noticeably cracking.

Alex smiles, closing the distance between you, her lips lightly meeting your own.

Your mother meanwhile is unable to keep herself from smiling, happy in the knowledge that you had someone to care for you, unlike she had when you were growing up.

You give Alex a barely visible nod, the woman taking your hand and stepping through the doorway with you, partially in front of you in a protective gesture.

“There she is.”

You come to a screeching halt, your eyes darting towards your father who’s resting in the hospital bed, looking much smaller than he did when you were growing up.

“Well, aren’t you going to give your old man a hug?” He asks, his eyes still holding a hint of the anger you saw all the years ago.

“No.” You say curtly, leading Alex further into the room, your hands now full-on sweating, your face flushed.

“Why not?” He asks, his voice having an edge to it.

“Why?” You ask, laughing humorlessly.

You stare at the man blankly, realizing he had deluded himself into thinking you had no reason for not coming over and hugging him.

“Are you kidding me?” Alex snarls, the woman taken aback when you move towards his bed.

“Maybe because you spent my childhood beating the hell out of me?!” You roar, knowing your voice could be heard rooms away.

His lips part, the man about to say something but you don’t care, rolling your sleeves up and showing him the scars on your arms.

“Maybe this is why?” You yell, unbuttoning your shirt hastily, uncaring that you were basically standing in the hospital room wearing only a sports bra.

Your mother is unable to stop her breath from hitching when she sees the scarred flesh of your torso.

“Maybe this is why, DAD.” You say, your voice dripping with contempt.

Your father remains silent, the anger you’d typically seen burning in his eyes still there growing.

“I just wanted to see you before I go.” He growls, and you scoff.

“Well, here I am.” You say, throwing your hands in the air, Alex watching in something akin to awe as you confront your abuser.

“I’m not going to give you a big hug, and I’m not going to tell you I’ll miss you, because I won’t.” You bite, noting the jumping in your father’s jaw.

“How dare you—

“How dare I?” You bark out a laugh.

“How dare you think I should come here and just forgive you, just forget what you did to me growing up, how dare YOU.” You yell, cut off by a nearby nurse.

“Is something wrong?” She asks, her brows knitted in confusion.

Alex turns to her.

“This has been a long time coming, she needs this, let it happen.” She whispers, the woman shaking her head.

“I never said I was sorry.” Your father mumbles and you’re unable to stop yourself from laughing.

“Of course you didn’t, because you never felt bad for beating me.” You shake your head, the nurse, surprisingly, backing out of the room.

“Well, you didn’t break me, you didn’t win.” You say, your hands balling into fists.

“I came here to tell you that, and now that I did, I can move on with my life.” You say, turning towards Alex before leaving the room hastily, leaning against the wall outside of the room.

Alex turns to your father, the man shooting her a glare, a glare she returns, her blue orbs smoldering.

“You tried so hard to break her, but it didn’t work. She’s one of the best women I know, and I love her, more than you ever did, more than either of you ever did.” She snarls angrily, glancing at your mother who’s staring at the floor.

“She’s better than either of you, she rose above your abuse and became an amazing and talented woman, someone I’m proud to call my girlfriend.” She says confidently, your eyes widening when you realize what Alex had just said.

“Of course, as if she couldn’t disappoint me more.” Your father growls in reference to the fact that you and Alex were together.

Your hands ball into fists, the thought of walking in and jacking his jaw prominent.

“We don’t need your approval; we don’t want it.” She says, walking closer to the bed, the nurse who’d come in earlier coming towards you along with another nurse.

“Y/N is a better person than you could ever hope be.” She growls, turning to make her way out of the room, shooting a glare over her shoulder.

“I'm proud of her for coming here, for saying what she needed to say, and I know I put distance between the two of us growing up, but I’m going to be there for her no matter what, more than you ever were.” She says before making her way out of the room, zeroing in on where you were leaning against a nearby wall.

She hastily makes her way towards you, throwing her arms around you, squeezing you tightly.

Unbeknownst to you, your mother had followed you out, wearing a frown.

“I asked you not to upset him.”

Alex relinquishes her hold on you, the two of you sending the older woman a piercing glare.

“Well, I asked you to be there for me growing up, and you weren’t. Looks like neither of us got what we wanted.” You say, taking Alex’s hand, the nurses making their way towards you coming to a halt.

“Don’t worry.” You say, glancing at the women.

“We’re leaving.” You say, turning towards your mother.

“The only reason you need to call me again is to tell me he’s dead.” You say, turning on your heels, and making your way down the hallway, Alex’s hand holding yours tightly.

It’s only when you’re walking out of the hospital’s entrance that you break down, falling to your knees, your body wracked with sobs.

Alex drops down beside you, wrapping her arms tightly around you as you sob loudly against her chest, the relief of finally telling your father how you felt, making you emotional.

“You did it, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.” Alex whispers, running her fingers through your hair as she coos softly in your ear.

You sniffle, tears streaming down your face, your nose running as you cry against her chest.

Eventually, you fall silent, your body twitching every so often as you sniff.

You pull back, your bloodshot Y/E/C orbs meeting Alex’s red rimmed blues.

She cups your cheeks, leaning her forehead against your own.

“How do you feel?” She asks as you breathe in deep, filling your lungs with air, your chest no longer feeling as tight as it did.

You sigh, cupping her cheeks, wiping the tears Alex didn’t realize were streaming down her cheeks away.

“Lighter.” You say softly, bumping your nose against Alex’s.

You fall silent before your lips split in a grin.

“Girlfriend, huh?” You tease, her cheeks flushing.

“I-I mean...” She stutters, cut off by your lips meeting hers in a tender, chaste kiss.

“I do like the sound of that.” You smile, Alex throwing her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze.

The two of you eventually make your way towards Alex’s car, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.

“I’m so proud of you.” Alex says as she slips into the driver’s seat.

You turn back towards the hospital, staring up at the hospital where your mother and father currently were, an abusive man you’d finally told how you felt, a demon from your past that you’d finally faced and conquered.

You smile, slipping in the passenger's seat beside Alex, the woman immediately taking your hand.

“You know.” You pause, turning towards Alex who’s wearing a tender smile.

Your own lips split in a grin.

“I’m proud of me too.”

***********************************************************************

It’s nearly two years later that you find yourself back in your hometown, rain pouring down around you as you stand at your father’s grave.

You stare down at the stone stoically, noting the fact that it doesn’t say anything about being a loving father, but only a loving husband.

Your eyes widen when a dark shadow falls over you, a shadow belonging to an umbrella, an umbrella Alex Morgan is currently holding.

You take her hand, your fingertips brushing the ring wrapped around her ring finger, a ring you’d proposed to her with not that long ago.

Life had torn you apart, creating a distance between you so vast that you were not sure if the gap would be bridged, but it was also life that brought you together again.

It was life that led Alex to confess her feelings for you, and life that led you to where you currently were now, standing in the middle of the graveyard, your hand in Alex’s, the band of her engagement ring cold against your palm.

You turn towards her, smiling softly.

“Are you ready?” You ask, her brows arching when she turns towards you.

“Are you?” She asks, squeezing your hand as you turn back to the stone, nodding.

“Yeah, I am.”

Alex turns, her fingers intertwining with yours as you make your way back towards her car.

You chance one last look over your shoulder, staring at your father’s stone again before turning away, eager to start your life with the woman currently holding your hand, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.

After all these years, you were finally free, and you were free to live your life with the woman you loved, and that woman was your childhood best friend, and fiancé, Alex Morgan.

#uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine #please let me know what you think!

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