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sleepyangelkami · 2 days

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Omgg I'm new to tublr but I love ur work smm could you pls do more carl grimes

SHELTERED c.grimes

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.8K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - carl's alexandrian girlfriend had always been somewhat sheltered, never so much as laid eyes on a zombie. however, when he decides to go on a supply run with his dad, some of her friends drag her to a party in the woods where she uncovers her first ever walker.

☆ WARNINGS - blood, gore, zombies, twd themes, violence, guns, crying, anxiety, worry, (1) use of y/n, pet names, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

alexandria was a quiet place in a world of chaos. it was nothing but comfort and clouds, nothing to worry for, nothing to be anxious about.

carl was anything but.

the boy was quite alike a storm the minute he'd entered the town. he was... different from other kids, that much was for sure. he was interested in comics and action while most the kids of alexandria only cared for their xbox's that were powered by the solar pannels.

so it was safe to say that when carl grimes made his way to the gazebo on a sunny day to read his action comic, you sitting with your romance novel threw him off a little.

he soon realised that you too were different.

you two got close so quickly, with your shelteredness, growing up in alexandria and his need to protect, having been on the road for so long, you were practically attached by the hip and the whole of alexandria could see.

when carl first met you, he took not of the plain innocence you displayed, not just because of your skirts and dresses that you pranced around in, pretty bow against your hair, but the fact that you grew up in alexandria. when shit hit the fan and the world turned to death, you never had to experience any of it. you were simply shielded from the dangers of the world as soon as the walls had been placed around your town.

truthfully, carl was glad.

one of the things the boy loved the most about you was the type of purity you displayed. every one of your actions was done with the need to help people. pure intentions.

you didn't have the type of heart for a world like their own, much too sweet to face the death that would stare right back at you.

"do you have to go?" That mumble he'd grown rather attached to. you used that mumble when you were tired, like now when the sun had set and darkness loomed over the town, still wrapped in your own bedsheets.

the boy hummed with dissatisfaction. "i'll be back tomorrow night." it wasn't unusual for the boy to leave at random hours of the night, not making it back until the next. it was to help his father and daryl on their runs, to get what the town needed.

was it selfish to wish he didn't have to?

you made a whine type of noise while muffled between the white pillows. carl only smiled softly. "get some rest, baby." the boy with the cowboy hat pressed a gentle kiss against the crown of your head, picking up his gun and making his way towards the door. "goodnight."

"g'night." but you were almost positive that you'd been asleep by the time the door closed shut again.

as much as carl loved going out on runs, there was something so god awful about leaving you wrapped up in the bed, alone. you were so sheltered your entire life, never knowing what was out there. it was almost as if he felt the need to protect you at all times, every day, assure both you and him that nothing was going to happen to you.

you had no intentions of leaving the walls.

alexandria was your home, your safety. you'd never so much as seen a walker before and you didn't plan on it anytime soon.

so when the words, "so, are you going?" came out of your best friends boyfriends lips, you only stared in shock.

enid, your best friend could only roll her eyes at the boy. "she doesn't want to." she spoke for you. "y/n doesn't like going outside of the walls, you know this."

and yet, he pressed further. "come on, everyone's gonna bet there, this will be the biggest one yet." a party that the teenagers and some of the younger adults went to. it was beyond the walls, out past where you were supposed to be. if anyone were to ever find out, you'd all be killed. so, you kept your mouth shut in hoping that if someone did find out about the parties, you'd never be tied to it. it wasn't as if you'd ever gone to one. "your little boyfriend never lets you go."

ron anderson wasn't the fondest of your boyfriend. it was evident since the day they met that they didn't like each other. believe me, carl had as much of a distaste for the boy as he did him. "carl isn't the reason."

"then what is?" you shrugged your shoulders, glancing down at your shoes. "you never do anything with us, it's like carl is the only thing you care about."

manipulation at it's finest. harmless, though, right?

"what?" an evident frown came across your face upon the realisation that your friends weren't even all the way sure if you liked them. "i do care about you guys."

"then do something with us for a change." the fourth of the group chimed in, mikey was his name. "besides, carl's gone and it's not like we're gonna tell him. your secrets safe with us."

you didn't want to go.

yet somehow, you found yourself wound up exactly where you 'didn't want to be'.

it wasn't that you were worried what carl would think. truthfully, as much as you valued the boy's opinion, you would never let him boss you around and tell you what you could and couldn't do. carl accepted you for all the beauty, all the ugly and never so much as questioned your actions, only doting when you got hurt. you couldn't love someone more. and neither could he.

but when your friends announced that they thought all you cared about was carl, you couldn't help but feel the guilt swirl through your veins. you loved carl, adored even but you could have friends to.

worried that they'd think you didn't want to hang out with them anymore, you found yourself for the first time in your life, exiting the walls.

you knew it was wrong the moment you stepped outside.

carl's old discarded flannel did nothing to help you keep the heat inside your body. you held it close, hoping the scent of carl would overpower the scent of alcohol that filled your nose. "you okay?" enid was the only one who took notice of your stiff figure.

" 'm fine." was the answer you gave, whether or not it had been true. all your mind could travel to was your boyfriend. yes, you never wanted to leave the walls of alexandria in fear of the walkers but you also knew how much carl wished for you to stay behind the protective walls to.

and he was going to be so mad once he found out where you were.

you could imagine him walking onto the street where your house lay. he'd climbed in through your bedroom window thousands of times before, you left it open for him to enter at any stage of the day or night. now, he'd find an empty bed.

enid noticed the way your face was twitching, though. "you sure? i can stay with you, if you want." but you could see the way her eyes were trailing towards her boyfriend from the other side of the party.

"no, it's okay." the girl gave you a unconvinced face. "really, 'm okay, now go get your boyfriend."

but you weren't okay.

the anxious thought started over as soon as enid left your side. the party unfolded, stupid music playing in the background. surely, that would attract walkers? your hazy eyes looked from person to person. enid was sat atop ron's lap, kissing him. mikey was between two girls, grinning to himself with a bottle in his hands. various other teenagers having the time of their lives. one boy, ethan you thought the name was, was standing on top of a makeshift table, chugging cans until the table collapsed beneath him.

you couldn't bear the sight, nor the smell of alcohol or any of the worry that filled your lungs making it suddenly hard to breathe.

you could imagine the state this would end up in, should a walker make it's way here. the teenagers here were the same sheltered people you'd grown up with, they'd went to the school with you in alexandria, they'd never been beyond the walls. now, they had and they hadn't been hunted down by walkers yet so they didn't expect it to happen.

but what if it did?

none of them were fighters, none of them went on supply runs or so much as tried to deal with walkers before.

it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

and you simply couldn't be here anymore.

your chest was heavy as you stood from your place on the ground, trying to make your way towards the woods, tripping over rocks and bottles as you went.

the forest was dark and hidden, no light source aside from the moon. you squinted your eyes, trying to see where you were going. you looked in front of you, suddenly not knowing whether to turn left or right.

had you even taken this road on the way here...?

sudden worry that you were going the wrong way. you couldn't hear the music of the party anymore, it was long gone and it had been your only way back there.

you were lost and if you didn't make it back to the party or alexandria soon, nobody would ever find you. that's what you told yourself, at least. carl would spend forever looking for you until one day, he'll stumble across your dead corpse, either half eaten or roaming around in the same clothes you'd worn that day, his flannel shirt hanging from your frame.

the thoughts caused your head to spin, obviously not taking much notice of the ground in front of you. you held your hands out as your foot tripped over a rock, you used them to catch whatever was in front of you, preventing your fall.

you grasped what you thought was a tree.

until you heard the groan of the dead.

it stared you in the eye, his own glazed over with a type of grey. blood surrounded his mouth, dead skin hanging from his body. he appeared to be missing a finger.

you yelped, falling backwards and straight onto your back. your head scratched itself off a rock, using your hands to straighten yourself back up when you noticed it hadn't just been one dead, but three.

they all turned to you, a sick hungry look in their eye as they began stalking forward, gugrles and groans leaving their mouthes as they found the food of that day.

you'd never seen one before though you knew they'd be horrid looking. you never expected the smell, though. the rotting flesh scent that filled your nose, certainly overpowering the scent of the flannel. their rotted teeth and lack of hair had you scrambling to find something, a rock, a discarded knife or twig, something to use as some kind of a weapon.

but the truth was, you'd been sheltered too long.

how were you ever supposed to pick yourself up out of something like this when you didn't know the first thing about walkers.

you would have accepted your faith with a scream, let them tear into your flesh because you were no help to anybody, including yourself.

you couldn't so much as weave your way away from three walkers, hopeless.

then the sight of a knife sticking into his head was in front of you.

blood spurted out, covering your clothes and the boy next to the walker. carl grimes with his infamous sheriff's hat along with the knife that he plunged into the walker's head. "what the hell are you doing out here?!" shock was evident in his voice, though he appeared to be alone. he whipped around, taking out both the other two walkers while you merely stared in shock.

the blood that spurted onto the ground as the final walker fell to the grass. your glassy eyes could still make out carl's boot stomping onto its head, squishing it and causing blood, insides and flesh to tear and fall.

carl was met with the sight of your glassy eyes staring up at him, fear-stricken expression.

he found himself rushing towards you.

"'m sorry, 'm so sorry, carl. i didn't― ron―" the words came out like a childish blubber, unable to form sentences as fat tears left your eyes, rolling down your flush cheeks.

"are you bit?" carl didn't care for the words you spoke, scanning your body, pushing your arm up to scan wherever he could. "did you hurt your―" he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the blood dripping from your forehead. "what did you do?"

the sound of his disapproving voice was enough for your breath to shake. "'m sorry." you kept repeating. "i just― please don't be mad at me."

finally the words that ached the back of your throat.

it seemed as though shock was the thing that fell across his face, wondering why you'd ever think he'd get mad at you for something like this. "hey, hey, 'm not mad, baby, c'mere." in the dead of night, through the trees, the boy took you into his arms, seating you onto his lap as the sobs emitted your mouth. he carefully drew circles on your back with the palm of his hand. "you're jus' scared, is all, you're okay, sweetheart." sweet nothings filled your ears, nothing but comfort against your skin.

you choked, blubbering as you pushed your face away from the crook of his neck. "the others― we have to warn them." though eyes still full of tears.

innocence had obviously still been deeply embedded into your brain. otherwise, you would have figured out by now that they'd known. "They know, baby." you looked at him with confusion. "saw a couple of them throwing rocks at a walker."

thoughts filled your brain, confused.

enid and ron told you that this was the safest party there was. and despite your obvious doubts about something so ridiculous, they'd assured you that no walker had ever been so much as seen where you would be going.

you felt a pang of betrayal set in your bones. not only at the fact that they'd lied but at the fact that these people you grew up with, very same innocence as your own, were using walkers like toys, pets even.

"come on, pretty girl." fingers working against your waist, gently soothing the skin. "let's get you home."

home. that sounded nice. "'kay." voice still slick with your earlier tears.

carl practically carried you all the way home. it wasn't until you were sat inside your bathroom, sat against the porcelain toilet while he crouched in front of you on the ground that the tears stopped. "'s gonna hurt." he warned.

you nodded, fingers holding around his own hand while the free one used a cotton pad filled with rubbing alcohol to disinfect the wound.

you winced, glass glossing over again. "i know, sweetheart, i know." pretty words falling from his lips as he cared for you like no other human being would ever be capable of doing. "jus' gotta get it done, yeah?"

and he did just that, quickly disinfecting the wound before grasping the gauze. your eyes were open, staring forward at his pretty face in front of you. he looked tired enough but he usually did with his sunken eye and tired perplexion. you always said it was because he wasn't eating enough. that was the thing about carl, always forgetting to take care of himself in the simplest of ways.

but you? no, he couldn't possibly forget a thing.

" 'm sorry." you'd said it before, but you couldn't express it enough.

carl slowly retracted his hands from your face, sighing gently. he moved his hands back up, only this time they cupped your cheeks instead of dusting your forehead. "what you did was stupid." you nodded in agreement. "you should know better, what's out there should stay out there and you should stay in here, where it's safe." you didn't bother explaining the situation, knowing it'd been you who decided to leave, ron didn't decide that for you. "you're lucky today didn't end worse."

"i know." voice cracking as your eyes gazed down upon the tiled ground of your bathroom where carl crouched.

he lifted your face up with his left hand, tilting his head slightly. "but that doesn't mean 'm mad at you, you know that, right?" you shrugged, supposing you didn't know that. "could never be mad at you."

"'m an idiot." you mumbled, attempting to look as far away from the boy as you could.

"a little." he grinned causing you to turn with a smile of your own. "'s okay, though. i'll do the thinkin' for you from now on, yeah?"

didn't seem like too bad of an idea.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

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loves0phelia · 1 day

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frank castle x nurse!gf fluff xx

Midnight Visitor

Summery: the request.

Words: 1k

Warnings: implied smut at the end, injuries, grammar mistakes

A/N: Thank you I loved writing this one.

Your cat was purring in your lap as you stroked her on your couch while watching a movie during your first night off of the entire month. You knew being a nurse wouldn't be easy, you knew you had to prepare mentally every time you went in. But when you got your rare nights off it felt like heaven.

You barely heard the knock that came from your window over the sound of your TV. Some people would scold you about it being bad for your ears.

You did hear when the person on the other side tried pulling up your window but failed as it was locked.

With a sigh, you picked up your kitten and placed her beside you on the couch. After earning a hiss of discomfort, you stood up letting the blanket that was draped over you fall on the cold hardwood floor.

Tiredly you opened the curtains with no hesitation since you already knew who was on the other side. Frank was crouched on your fire escape looking desperate to get in as blood gushed out of his forehead and a massive bruise was forming around his eye.

You unlocked your window and rapidly he opened it letting the freezing air enter your cozy apartment.

“Between all the days you could have chosen to get hurt and come here to get patched up, it had to be on my day off?” Your hands raised on your hips in a scolding manner. A habit you and your twin brother, Matt Murdock, had taken from your late father.

“Hey sweetheart” his lips connected with your cheek as he passed you and made his way into your kitchen gathering the needed supplies as if it were his apartment. At this point it almost was.

“What happened this time? Another mob? Fisk? A gang?” you followed behind him as he walked to the bathroom. After putting down the medical stuff you kept stacked beneath your sink, he sat down on your counter.

“It was your damn brother” He cursed and you began looking over his injuries. You knew it probably hurt like a bitch but Frank would never show how much he suffered.

“What did he do this time?” you asked, whispering as you poured alcohol on a small white cotton.

“He's still mad you and I are together, so when I was about to put down one of those gang members” he paused to curse again as you pressed the cotton ball into his cut. “he took the opportunity to hit me with his stupid ass batons”

You listened carefully as he explained what happened.

“You know he's not completely wrong, Frankie” His eyes shifted from the ceiling to you and glared.

“But they deserve it. They've done worse to innocent people, to children” His voice got darker when he mentioned the last part.

“I know my love, I know” You laid your hand on his cheeks and ran your thumb over it. “You are right, they deserve it but don't you think it would be better if they served justice in prison? where they wouldn't have the choice to live in poor conditions? where they would have no choice but to rot there?”

He sighed, leaned into your hand and slowly kissed your palm.

“I would never hate you for killing monsters like them but Matthew is not all wrong. He's just doing what he thinks is right, just like you” you spoke softly before you took his hand in yours to examine his knuckles. They were bloody and bruised. You wish they weren't but you knew he was doing it to make the city better, safe.

“How are you so good to me? I don't deserve you” You stop your work of wrapping his hand in a bandage after he finishes his sentence.

“You deserve everything you ever desire, alright? You are a good man, whoever tries to prove you on the contrary deserve whatever you're gonna do to them” You furiously continue wrapping them. The thought of anyone saying Frank didn't deserve happiness infuriated you.

“Did you just- Did you imply they deserve to be killed?” a smirk appeared on his face and your brow furrowed. It was not the time to make jokes.

“Red would not like what you just said- Hey!” He yelled when you purposely tighten the bandages.

“Okay, okay I'm sorry” You loosened it after his apology and carried on treating his wounds.

you checked his head, his chest, his arms and the rest of his body for other injuries but after a couple of minutes of searching, he seemed fine.

“You might have a headache because of the gash on your forehead so before going to sleep I would recommend you take a Tylenol,” you said while still standing between his knees.

“Can I stay tonight?” His hand came up to your hips to keep you in place. His eyes were begging you.

“You know you always can. You don't even have to ask” you whispered.

"I love you so much” you returned his words before slowly pressing your lips to his. They were chapped from the cold weather but nothing would ever make kissing Frank Castle unpleasant.

“I have to wake up early tomorrow, I have a morning shift at the hospital, and I gotta pay Matt a visit,” you say against his lips and he groans at the mention of his name.

You opened your mouth again, about to add something but his lips connected with your lips shutting you up immediately.

A small moan escaped your lips as his hand grabbed your ass pulling you against him. He stood up now towering over you and without once detaching your lips, you jumped intertwining your legs around his waist.

Your fingers desperately gripped his hair as he held you up while walking messily to your bedroom across your apartment.

Gently, he dropped you into your bed and began kissing down your neck and stomach. Words could not describe how he made you feel that night.`

#frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle angst #frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x y/n #jon bernthal

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grapejuicestyless · 3 days

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No One Wants To Die In The End.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: United through grief, Harry and Y/n have to navigate the same fates they witnessed as young children as understanding adults. After all, no one wants to die in the end, we can only hope death comes easy for us.

“Has anyone ever survived beyond the death rattle breathing?”

I hear my mother ask in a hushed tone, the nurse who came to send my grandma away giving her a tight lipped smile.

I sit on the bed pretending not to be able to hear them, pretending the sound of my grandma choking on her own saliva is normal and the staggering of her breathing between heavy wheezes isn’t concerning while I tell her all about what I learned in fourth grade.

She doesn’t remember me, not much anyway. Ever since the illness started taking pieces of her brain, I’ve been stuck in time. She only knows my name now, and my mom warned me on the way here today not to cry if she couldn’t even remember that. It was her illness forgetting, not my beloved grandma.

Mom says she loved me with all my heart, and that once the illness passes through her, she’ll remember me again fondly. I’ll get to tell her all about my life and growing up and she’ll understand what I’m talking about. She won’t give me the blank stare she does now while I hold her hand, and her skin won’t be so frail.

“We usually recommend getting everything in place by the end of the day. Gather her papers and say your goodbyes. We can’t guarantee anything with how much longer she’ll hold out for.” The nurse says, and though my mom doesn’t cry, I can see her skin hugging her throat constricting it and the soft fluttering of her wet eyelashes.

My mom pulled me away soon after, telling me to say goodbye. This time felt different though, even at age nine I knew that. So I told my grandma I’d be back, even if I wasn’t sure just because it always made her smile, and I promised to keep dancing around in my pajamas before breakfast like she loved.

That day at school, the one after I left my grandma with hundreds of promises to live freely and trust with my heart, I found my mother sat out on the front steps by our old white porch with her head in my hands.

“Hi mama. Can I go to Megans?” I had asked her cheerfully, excited about seeing my best friend, my neighbor and my sister.

Mom had this sad look in her eyes, one that told me to come close without her having to say it. And as I stood between her bent knees and felt her hands on my hips, I saw her shake her head.

“Y/n/n, grandma didn’t make it, baby.” She declared softly, and at the time I didn’t know how to process it, the idea of someone being gone forever. As mom told me how she had only left for a minute to go home and shower and came back to my grandma unresponsive in her sleep, I didn’t think about the fact that my grandma’s laugh would fade with the years, but rather how sad it was that she had to go alone. I prayed selfishly under my breath that I would have someone’s hand to hold when I went, that my rotting body would mean more than any shower ever could.

I didn’t tell mom this, my feelings on the death of grandma, the death of her mom, so I did what I knew how to do best, and I ran, begging softer this time to be able to go across the street just until dinner.

When I got there, I was greeted by Megan, and she looked sad. That’s how most people in my life seemed to look these past few hours, ever since the way my grandma breathed changed.

She pulled me into a hug and cried on my shoulder, promising to be there for me always, that it would get better. At the time I didn’t get it, why my best friend as a child would feel so much grief for a woman she barely knew, how she could feel so much more than I did, but grief hits differently in every person, I wished that someday I’d be able to process it openly instead of suppressing it somewhere I’d never find it. I wished that someday I’d learn how to cry.

Grandma didn’t get a funeral, they stuffed her ashes into a pretty vase with golden birds and her favorite flowers and held the wake early in the morning. Most of her friends I’d never met. It was a small service, a slow one. I spent most of my time playing hide and seek with my cousins and stealing the mints the funeral home left out for guests while my mother cried shaking each guests hand.

“How should we send out the letters?” My mom whispered to my father quietly, like it was something she didn’t want her children to know about.

“What’s the difference? Word spreads fast about people like him.”

People like him, that’s how my dad worded it. People like him, veterans who fought in a war they couldn’t even remember by the end of their lives and refused to replace the old wood paneling on their living room walls from the eighties.

My grandpa was the definition of people like him, he had lived enough lives to grow in white hairs by fourteen years old. Fighting alongside Elvis in the war and dancing with his dying wife in the afternoon.

I never met grandma, my dad said cancer took her before I was born, he says that’s why my name is the way it is, she picked it. But, I did meet grandpa.

He had white hair and a soft stomach from all the Swedish meatballs he made in his spare time. War does funny things like that to a man, make someone so against cooking love the simplicity of it, the safety of food consuming him.

I never really liked his Swedish meatballs, I didn’t like how he made them without sauce, when I was ten my world revolved around marinara sauce.

When I was twelve years old, I remember missing the softness of my grandpas stomach when he hugged me and the lingering smell of Swedish meatballs in his kitchen at dinner time. Which was weird because I never liked it before, but maybe my nose had changed while grandpa was changing in his own ways.

Cancer seemed to run in the family, something that was so small nobody ever suspected it was invading their bodies until the doctors became frantic to get it out.

My grandpa has bright white hair before his treatment, and small silver glasses perches on his swollen nose while he sat in his old brown chair and watched his grandkids school plays through the CD’s my parents would send him.

What a lonely life to live as he got older. The death of his wife and the absence of his grandchildren as they became less and less interested in family time and more focused on running outside freely with their friends.

I was so sidetracked I didn’t even know when grandpa died right away. Not until my father sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch where I laid with my mother rubbing his back slowly, a heavy look on his wrinkled face.

“Grandpa passed last night, Harry. He loved you very much.”

I didn’t cry as my father spoke, simply nodding before walking to my room to toy with my baseball cards and gameboy. I didn’t cry thinking about his passing, which confused me because I was twelve. I understood what death meant and how there was no one who had the power to reverse it, but I felt incapable of crying.

I went to school the next morning like my parents hadn’t told me the news, and my history teacher pulled me out into the hall during second period. He looked sad for me, his hands on my shoulders as he told me he would give me all the time I needed, not to try snd jump back into normalcy during such a tough time.

It made me feel embarrassed, which felt weird considering the context. I felt fine, completely indifferent to something I should have been breaking down over. But I guess grief is weird like that, and I wish I had the strength to be weak.

Grandpa had a big funeral, open casket with formal attire. He didn’t look like grandpa with all that makeup on him. I wanted to open his eyelids to see the colors in his eyes one last time. But that’s unacceptable to do, so I simply kneeled by the casket and prayed for him.

A big black limo took us from the boiling hot church to the graveyard where uniformed men loaded their guns and fired at the sky in honor of my grandpa. The smoke smelled like the low tide at the beach, and some people I’d never seen before sobbed a few rows behind me.

A lot of people showed up for grandpa, veterans from around the country and school friends from when he still had all his youth. Looking around at the crowd, I hoped I too would be able to make such a big impact on so many people. I selfishly prayed under my breath that one day I’d too have a large funeral. That people would care enough to come and cry for me because I would matter that much.

“When did you find out?” Harry asked softly, his large hand capturing mine in a paw-like grip over my knuckles.

I swallowed, wondering when I suspected it in comparison to when I finally got the guts to ask someone for help.

“I’ve known for a while, probably since I was nine. It runs in the family, you know? All these health issues that eat away at our brains?” I laughed, but neither of us found it funny, not when I ran my fingers through my hair to calm down and chunks cane out between my knuckles.

“I just thought I’d be gifted more time, thought biology would be kinder to my bones.”

Harry looks at me with a broken stare, one that hits me in the heart. We both tear up, but neither of us cry. We are our parents, we are the spitting image of them sitting us down to break the news. But at least they went peacefully, right? I know no peace, but still I don’t cry for myself, I feel too pathetic to even try.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, looking bitterly at the youthful green eyes in front of me, how his curly hair seems even more vibrant than nearly a decade ago. He ages backwards and I am already one foot out of the door.

Harry shakes his head.

“You did everything right.” He tells me, fingers pulling the hair from my hands to hide it behind his back.

“Then why do I feel like I have?”

“Nobody wants to die in the end, Y/n/n. It’s a game of chance, each day we live we gamble on how long we have left. Some people search for that end and others stumble on it accidentally, it’s just the chances.”

When he puts it like that, it makes me feel even worse, knowing how quickly I’ll be gone. How I’ve failed my future children I’ll never get to have, my husband who would have loved me I’m sure, and my poor old dog who waits by the food bowl only to find it empty each day I’m gone.

“I don’t like these chances.” I laugh with tears in my eyes, hands holding onto his as our forehead touch, my best friend holding me like no one ever has, not even Megan, who had long grownup into a woman I barely knew, a friend who drifted from me when we were thirteen and cried to her mother about how she missed me when she was sixteen.

Megan held me when my grandma died that day when I was nine, and I was confused as to why she was so sad, but with Harry holding me now, I understand it all better.

“I’m only twenty nine, Harry. At least my grandmothers dementia took away the intense pain of remembering what she was leaving behind.”

“And she lived not knowing who her daughter was for the rest of her life. She must have been so alone.”

I look down at my lap, my palms still pressed against his.

“I’d never forget you, even if my memory starts to go. I’ll never forget you because you’re too important to forget.” Harry smiles when I say that, pulling his hands away from mine to tap his chest quietly.

“And I’d never forget you, even when I’m old and crazy. I’ll keep photos of us on my walls and talk to them when I get bored.” He promised me, the dull light from the sun making the once lavish room feel less like a clean living room and more like a cold hospital.

As the months pass, my hair has been traded for one of Harry’s favorite hats. My shirts switched out for backless gowns with blue dots on the paper like material. My arms are not decorated with the same ink as Harry, but wires and tubes that come from the table beside my hospital bed.

I am twenty nine, but I must look about sixty now with how tired I am from simply trying to steal back the life that was ripped from me unfairly.

And as I fight to keep up with the beeping of the monitors hooked up beside me, I feel my throat rejecting my saliva and my sick coughs stuck behind my teeth.

I heat the same cracking sounds that my grandmother made when I was nine, and I feel relaxed knowing now that it doesn’t hurt to breathe this way, not right now anyway.

And in the silence I can hear an echo of my mother’s words from outside my door, her feminine voice exchanged for the deep one I’d grown rather fond of.

“Has anyone ever survived beyond the death rattle breathing?”

Harry asks in a hushed tone, the nurse different but her answer just the same.

“We usually recommend getting everything in place by the end of the day. Gather her papers and say your goodbyes. We can’t guarantee anything with how much longer she’ll hold out for.”

It’s happening again, the spirit leaving my bones to join everyone I’ve ever loved before, my father and my grandma. My mother and my old cousins. I only wished I didn’t have to leave Harry behind, I wished I could dance with him in our college dorms just one more time like we used to, and set fire to the box mac and cheese just one last time.

I remember everything about Harry, the nurse warning that my image of him might waver as my blood begins to slow under the skin. She tells him not to worry when my skin gets cold, it’s natural for people to cool down as their heart gives out.

Harry comes in and holds my hand, pretending the sound of my breathing doesn’t bother him and the sound of me choking on my own saliva is normal and the staggering of my breathing between heavy wheezes isn’t concerning while he swears to every single higher power he can think of that I’ll be okay.

And I believe him.

Because while he holds my hand in death, he’s fulfilled the one wish I prayed so hard for a a kid. The one selfish wish I made for myself in a time of need.

When I was nine, standing between my mothers legs with my nails between my teeth I prayed selfishly under my breath that I would have someone’s hand to hold when I went, that my rotting body would mean more than any shower ever could.

And here Harry was nearly two decades later, holding my hand and promising serenity in the afterlife.

What he doesn’t know is that I am one of the lucky ones. Even after my heart has stopped, I am given one last gift as an apology for such a short life. I am given an extra second of my brain living on, the soft cries of “I love you’s” from Harry the last thing I hear as my dying gasp is cut short from my death rattle breathing.

I have a small service, Harry and some college friends standing in line shaking the hands of the few guests who walk by to look at my body. My nephews and nieces place hide and seek with each other until the ceremony was over, mints stuffed deep in their pockets as they filed out of the funeral home like nothing had happened.

Being famous is weird, especially after a loved one has passed.

We send out prayers to the families of those affected, the media says, but how has the death of this person affected Harry? How has Y/n’s slipping away crushed him beyond belief? Will he dedicate his next album to her?

They don’t care about Y/n, they only care about how she makes a good headline for their companies, and it makes me sick to think about. How they profit off of my grief while I try to stop memorizing the sound of her broken sigh as she went.

I wonder if I was enough for her during her final days. If my touch was enough to cure her for just a brief second.

It’s no wonder I turned to move-on pills. Ones that lift me up and break me down further until I am face up on the bathroom floor we once shared, my eyes wide as I choke on my breathing and count how many times the lights multiply as I look up to the sky.

It’s not a shock that the headlines are out by the end of the day, the sirens enough to alert all of Hollywood of my dying dreams and my perfect execution.

My family stands in a line while they put my casket into the hearse, makeup on my face like they put on my grandpa, I dan barely recognize myself as I watch the funeral service from another space.

And as they bury me under the ground, the media announces their grief and well wishes to all that attended and the millions watching from their televisions.

As a kid, I hoped I too would be able to make such a big impact on so many people. I selfishly prayed under my breath that one day I’d too have a large funeral. That people would care enough to come and cry for me because I would matter that much.

But now that it’s happening, I only care for one thing, I only asked for one thing in the letter I left behind. Lay me beside my best friend, so I can keep holding her hand through death, and we can laugh in the afterlife like we did when we were healthy, happy, and together.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #yn x harry #harry x reader #harrystyles #harry styles #hslot harry #yn x harrystyles

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scrollonso · 1 day

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Hi I’d actually LOVE to hear more about the way you view Strollonso dynamic because a) the way you write about them makes ME feel insane and b) I am also attempting to write fic of these two and require all the references I can so I can feel at least marginally confident dipping my toes in rpf

Anyway keep being amazing and being awesome with your writings!! I hope we can all survive our parasocial relationship with this 20something rich white boy!!!

i have SO MUCH to say.

okay lets start off with their different instagram useage. lance hardly ever posts (averaging like 1 post a month) but nando on the other hand... (like 4 posts a week) so with this difference we get fernando mentioning and talking about and posting and praising lance and its so sweet because hes not doing it for lance to see hes doing it because he MEANS it.

then the fact that theyre so touchy for literally no reason and this isnt even new in 2017 (i believe) fernando was touching all up on lance after he got a podium and now that theyre teammates theres always some kind of contact going on (nando grabbing lances neck, arm, hands, hugging, etc.)

and yk i cant NOT mention the "happy you are not in alpine?" video because HELLO. the way lance walks over and grabs him straight away with a "yes, man" then when nando realizes its lance his whole face lights up. UGH. then when they hugged they were so close, lances lips practically against fernandos skin as he spoke like god get a rooommmmm... AND NANDOS HAND ON LANCES FACE? like he full on cupped lances cheek and the eye contact and smiles?? u dont do all this with a teammate u dont want to fuck.

then when nando won "overtake of the month" and told the woman interviewing him that he didnt vote for himself but for "this guy" (lance) like in what world are you VOTING for your TEAMMATE who in most cases is your biggest competition??

and back to their hugs, any time they hug its never a half assed side hug its always both arms tightly around eachother smiling talking chests pressed together like U DONT HUG JUST ANYONE THAT CLOSELY??

then when lance got p5 and nando got p3 (dont remember what race) and while celebrating with the team nando put a hand on his face again and one on his waist?? and people say they have a "father son dynamic" 😣

i posted abt this a while ago but them walking together is like my favourite thing ever because theyre so close and aware of eachother its like theyre two teenagers with a crush 😭 then ofc that video of nando waiting for lance because he was walking slow like ugh theyre so sweet

then we know lance obvi doesnt enjoy media much and usually has a poker face or is showing the person talking to him that he isnt enjoying the conversation but as soon as he sees fernando or he gets involved he has the biggest toothy grin on his face like i know your cheeks hurt after geeking over this man so much

and we're all aware that nando is practically known for being evil and mean and having big rivalries with his teammates (besides carlo they're my babies) but thats never been a problem with lance theyve genuinely always been just love and had this sweet bond and dynamic since before nando and lance even thought of joining aston and its beautiful

also i adore how they basically refuse to fight eachother or risk their relationship its so sweet and its a very unique thing to see because this is a sport and thats the whole point. from lance saying he wasnt going to fight because it was fernando and nando giving lance his brake information because he knew it would help it really shows just how mature they are and how in the end they value their relationship and their teams performance as a whole so they put that above fighting eachother.

#kat talks #this is more rambling #but u get it #im so normal about them #f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #fernando alonso #aston martin #ls18 #strollonso #fa14 #1418 #i love them #my babies #old man x twink #the best dynamic

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suzukiblu · 3 days

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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for @this-was-a-terrible-idea behind the cut; nineties "Captain America" ride or die. ( chrono || non-chrono )

Hawaii is . . . a place. The asset might actually hate it, which is almost a novelty at this point in its existence. Hating something that isn’t a fascist organization or a murderous supervillain is something it honestly thought it’d forgotten how to do.

It’s a weapon, after all. A weapon and a thing and not enough of a person to hate things like “getting too much sun” and “too many tourists on the beach”.

There really are a fucking lot of tourists, though.

The asset suspects that Captain America just picked up the first brochure he saw at the airport and has been following its advice, as opposed to, he doesn’t know, asking a single fucking local where a quieter place to hang out might be?

Then again, Captain America seems to be enjoying the scenery. By which the asset means people-watching all the pretty dames in unexpectedly skimpy swimsuits. Which is definitely not typical Captain America behavior, but . . . well, what the hell does the asset know, anyway? The kid’s closer to the height it remembers, at least, if still a lot thicker. And his face looks right. And his tendency to get himself punched in the face, that’s right too.

The eyes are definitely right.

The asset gave Captain America its leather jacket for civilian camouflage on the way here. The kid proceeded to wear it over the damn armor because he refuses to wear anything but the armor, and also sewed a giant white star patch to the back of it and bought the douchiest sunglasses that the future has ever produced to wear with it. The asset has never previously seen cause to use the word “douchiest” in cold blood, but Captain America has once again expanded its horizons in new and unanticipated ways.

Fuckin’ punk.

“Punk” has some different definitions in the future, apparently, but Captain America seems determined to live up to all of them.

The asset also hates punk music, it turns out. Go figure.

How the fuck do people even dance to that shit, though?

. . . well, now it sounds like an actual centenarian, it guesses. Great. Which it is, technically, but that’s not the fucking point, alright? It’s a goddamn old man yelling at the kids on the corner for playing too loud or whatever, apparently.

As much as it counts as a “man”, anyway, old or not.

“Damn,” Captain America whistles, peering over his glasses at the back of a very pretty dame who’s just walked by.

The asset is increasingly certain something is awry here.

“You really should pick an alias, Cap,” it says.

“Why?” Captain America says, wrinkling his nose at it.

Because there is absolutely no way HYDRA is not going to find us while you’re walking around in their gear in public with their shield on your back, but I would like to at least PRETEND we’re trying to hide, the asset doesn’t say.

“It’d make it easier to avoid HYDRA’s attention,” it says instead. Baby steps or whatever.

Captain America, unfortunately, is still the same stubborn little shit he’s always been, and “baby steps” have absolutely never worked on him.

“So what?” he says. “We’ll just kick their asses if they do.”

The asset really should’ve known better.

“Understood,” it says instead of You’re a fucking idiot, kid, because . . . because it’s not the person who’s allowed to say things like that to Captain America.

It doesn’t have the right to be that person anymore.

Doesn’t deserve to be.

“Wanna hit the waves?” Captain America suggests. The asset will literally never want to do that, but supposes it should appreciate being asked for its opinion.

“No,” it says. Captain America doesn’t tase it for the refusal, which is . . . novel, again.

It really had forgotten how to say that word, it thinks, but Captain America has definitely reintroduced it to its vocabulary. Both in DC and in that lab, and especially ever since following him out of that lab.

The asset was really not prepared to have to explain why the legal drinking age applies to Captain America, for one thing. Though it’s not like alcohol really affects him, so . . .

It’s very difficult to explain to Captain America why a rule or law that he thinks is stupid or irrelevant is a rule or law that he should still consider listening to, is the thing. More accurately, it’s a fucking moron’s game, and most of the time the best the asset can do is distract or reroute him.

Still. Walking into a club or bar in HYDRA-issue stars-and-stripes body armor and ordering a cocktail that looks like the damn Fourth of July while undeniably a teenager would definitely draw both unnecessary and unwanted attention.

Also, the drinks are too damn expensive these days anyway, to say nothing of the damn cover charges. If the asset hears that “inflation” bullshit one more time, it’s gonna go goddamn dig up Reagan and kill him deader.

Trickle-down economics its ass.

“C’mon, Buck, you’re supposed to be the fun one, aren’t you?” Captain America teases it with a smirk, pushing his stupid douchey sunglasses up into his hair. The asset cannot think of a single thing more “fun” than avoiding ending up in HYDRA’s many arms again. Not regularly getting its brains fried out of its head is in fact the most fun it’s ever had in its life.

Seriously. Fuck everything else except that. There is not a single damn thing the asset wouldn’t rather do than that.

Except for be face-to-face with Steve Rogers again, obviously.

“I’m too busy sweatin’ to death for fun, Cap,” it says dubiously, hitching its heavy duffel bag up a little higher on the metal shoulder that’s currently mostly-camouflaged by a denim jacket and an unfortunate embarrassment of a Hawaiian shirt that Captain America had laughed at it for wearing. The asset doesn’t experience embarrassment when the alternative is sticking out like a sore thumb and obvious target, for obvious reasons, but Captain America apparently didn’t get that memo and had again refused to wear anything but the body armor.

Christ’s sake, they’re on a goddamn tropical island. Isn’t that fucking hot?

Stubborn little shit.

The stupid bullheaded stubbornness is SOP for Captain America, at least.

“Toldja you were overdressed,” Captain America hums. The asset rolls its eyes, which is a strange impulse, but it does it before it thinks better of it and then it’s already done it, so fuck it.

“You’re wearin’ a leather jacket and fuckin’ nanobot-enforced Kevlar right now,” it reminds him dubiously.

“Breathes pretty good, actually,” Captain America says with a grin, adjusting his lapels as he preens.

The asset genuinely does not know what its life even is anymore.

#this-was-a-terrible-idea #wip: nineties 'captain america' ride or die

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cinnbar-bun · 2 days

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Hi. I hope you’re doing well at the moment. If not, feel free to push off writing this request or to ignore it altogether.

I’m curious to see what headcanons you have about Bruno and how he’d feel about receiving flower arrangements from a S/O.

Your wish is my command, nonnie!!!

Bruno Bucciarati Receiving a Flower Arrangement From his S/O

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~1k

Notes: Just fluff, plus a minor mention of Bruno's backstory in a bullet point (nothing major). GN reader as always, and just lots of loving for our fave capo <3 As well as cameos from the rest of the gang.

One thing that’s for certain is that your capo adores the flowers. He was rather shocked to see the florist hand deliver him such a large bouquet.

At first, he briefly thought it was from you- but, well, that’d be kind of selfish to assume, wouldn’t it? So he thinks it’s maybe a thank-you gift from one of the many citizens in Napoli he’s helped.

However, once he reads the card with the message you put on it, the adoration on his face is clear. He’s touched beyond belief.

He immediately puts the flowers in a vase as a centerpiece for the table of their room. He’s kind of hoping that the others ask about it so he can proudly gloat that his lovely, wonderful partner got them for him.

Mista and Narancia will whine and then wonder if they can ever get flowers from their s/o one day, and Bruno teases them by saying that if they get their act together, they just might.

Fugo acts like he doesn’t give a shit but he’s pretty happy that Bruno is happy and has you as his partner. The young boy is grateful that there’s someone who takes care of Bruno after all Bruno does for everyone else.

Abbacchio complains about the smell of the flowers, citing them as being too strong or something while he’s drinking his wine or listening to his music. Despite that, he’ll be damned before he touches or does anything to them. Bruno knows Abbacchio would never throw them out despite his complaints, so he often jokes back that Abbacchio is just jealous he is not getting flowers.

Trish is wide-eyed at the gift you got Bruno, thinking it’s romantic, and remarks that the bouquet has to be super expensive. She joins in with Mista and Narancia about wanting a nice bouquet of flowers from her future lover.

Giorno thinks it’s a nice gift and feels it says a lot about you that you would gift Bruno them. Especially if you took the time to arrange the bouquet or choose specific flowers/colors, it makes Giorno appreciate and think higher of you.

Bruno would love any kind of bouquet you’d get him. He adores them and always, always, always will appreciate them and do his best to keep them alive and fresh for as long as possible (including, but not limited to, enlisting Giorno’s help to freshen them up)

That said, he does have different (but positive) reactions to the flowers depending on what type you may have chosen for him!

If you got him roses (any color): he’d be extra romantic and sappy to you. Roses are the flowers of love, aren’t they? And this was most certainly your way of trying to show him your desire for him, wasn’t it? So he’ll pay it back by using more Italian pet names with you or more romantic gestures as if he were a lovesick puppy.

If you got him a bright, colorful bouquet: he’d be quick to think it stands out from the rest of the room, but frankly, it was a necessary one. He would do his best to make the flowers stand out even more by using a colorful vase/glass and putting it directly in front of everyone. Everyone has to see this. He smiles brightly when he sees them, too, and it makes him think about how much light you’ve given in his life. He becomes eager to pull you close.

If you got him a white bouquet (any flowers): He’d be more solemn and deliberate in his movements and decisions. Quieter displays of his affection will ensue, with him taking your hand to his and pressing kisses on it, buying your favorite food/drink, and whispering the sweetest words of poetry known to man in your ear. Those flowers were what he saw often during funeral processions, but it’s also seen in weddings, too. It’s a sort of reminder to himself that his time with you is limited and that every moment with you is a precious thing to be savored.

If you got him a pastel bouquet: He reacts in a way that’s a mixture of the bright flowers and the white flowers. He reacts more on the quieter end, but is less prone to the feelings of nostalgia he may have had with the white flowers. He finds these ones sweet and gentle, and it, in turn, makes him act pretty gentle with you. Tons of romantic words in your ear and kisses peppered all over your face are what awaits you.

If you got him a bouquet with darker flowers: At first, he’s taken aback by the colors. Not in a bad way, they’re flowers and they’re from you on top of that. He’s just a bit surprised that flowers could be arranged in such a way, but it’s so unique like you? Oh my gosh? It’s unconventional but makes him smile, and he is proud to have them as a centerpiece. He’s quick to thank you and he will get more specific in his praises and compliments for you. More affectionate and grateful here, but more teasing as well.

Seriously, buy him flowers, it makes his day- nay, his week(s)- and gives him more motivation. He’s not used to being treated often, but with you, every day is a treat, and every gift you give him makes him practically melt.

Plus, how could you resist the wide-eyed smile he does when he realizes that you were the one who sent the flowers?

#jojo x reader #jjba x reader #reader insert #x reader #jojo hcs #jjba hcs #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jojo #jjba #golden wind #jjba part 5 #vento aureo #bruno bucciarati x reader #Bruno bucellati x reader

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venileix · 1 day

Text

𝜗𝜚 .Orange Jumpsuit

PAIRING: AJ x F!reader SYNOPSIS: AJ comes home with the jumpsuit tied around his waist, and with his tank top exposing his tattoos and muscles, you find yourself more attracted to him than ever before. WARNINGS: sexual content, oral (giving), Aj's crippling praise and ever so slight degradation kinks NOTES: MDNI!

⋆𝜗𝜚˚｡⋆

You knew AJ was stressed out about this job. They never did another job this fast after an old one, but he promised himself he'd go all in on this so he wouldn't have to get involved in that life for a long time.

You knew that even though he loved the thrill of a job, he was nervous about the lack of overall planning for this one.

Aj always made sure you were flown out of town with friends during his jobs, scared about anything happening to you, but with how sudden this opportunity arose, he had to settle on practically barricading you inside his apartment.

The two of you had been married for just over a year now, and he promised this was his last job.

As the sky grew darker, the abrupt sound of the lock of the door twisting brought your attention away from the dinner you were preparing.

As the door opened, you relaxed at the beeps of the alarm passcode being entered, knowing it was your husband.

Cutting the strawberries for the desert, you felt arms wrap around your waist, "What are you making?"

You gently place the knife down on the cutting board, twisting your body around in your husband's arms to face him.

"Your favorite," You grin, dragging your hands up his exposed arms to rest on his shoulders, "How is everything coming along?"

"All is going according to plan, don’t worry your pretty little head about any of that.” He only ever tells you the basic details of these jobs, not wanting to worry you about his safety.

Aj grinned reassuringly as he looked at the unconvinced look in your eyes. He knew you were concerned for how stressed out he's been lately, and he was starting to feel bad for making you worry.

"You're lucky you're hot," You roll your eyes at your husband playfully before trailing your eyes down his body.

He had that orange jumpsuit they were using as a disguise tied around his waist, exposing his white tank top and tattoos that lined his arms.

He stayed quiet, allowing you to bring your hands up to his hair, pushing some strands back as he looked down at you.

While you didn't mind his obsession over hats, you had always loved when he didn't wear them, so you can mess with his hair.

You brought your hands back down to his shoulders, fingers gently tracing his bicep where he had your name in cursive.

He got it the day before your wedding, surprising you with it on your wedding night. Needless to say, you gave him a nice surprise in return that night.

You can feel Aj's muscles flex under your touch, making you teasingly smirk as you slowly look back up to meet his eyes.

The moment your eyes meet his, his lips are on yours, and the hands that were wrapped around your waist pushed your hips into the counter.

You let him take the lead, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeper. Aj's hands find their way to your thighs, pulling your body closer to him, if that was even possible.

"Jump," His breath is hot against your lips, making your eyes flutter open, revealing his smug grin as he stared down at you through eyes heavy with desire.

The hands wrapped around the back of your thighs aided you as you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Aj pulled the two of you away from the kitchen, carrying you towards the plush couch in your living room.

Your usual cooking playlist played softly from the large TV on the wall, filling the air with soothing music.

He takes a seat in the middle of the couch, keeping you in his lap.

"I really like getting to see your tattoos like this," You stare down at Aj, watching him smirk at you admitting to your unhidden attraction to his body.

"I would hope so," his fingers rub circles at your hips, "You did half of them."

You subtly rock your hips forward, teasing the man under you as you press against him, "Well I think I made you look pretty damn hot."

He laughs at your words, gripping at your hips to continue making you grind down against him.

"It's all thanks to you, sweetheart." You giggle at his words, bringing your head down, placing soft kisses against his jaw, leading down his neck towards his collar bone.

He let out heavy breaths at the feeling of your lips on his skin mixed with the feeling of your cunt rocking against him.

You slowly pull away, looking at the beautiful man below you through half lidded eyes, a seductive smirk on your lips, "You seem pretty stressed out."

Aj's eyes follow your movements as you slowly lift yourself from his lap, moving his hands away from you as you now stand in front of him.

"Maybe I should help you with that," You can see his jaw clench as you lower yourself to your knees.

He was at a loss for words as you slowly untie the orange coveralls at his hips, pulling them down to reveal his black boxers.

"Look at this," You giggle at the sight of the wet spot on his boxers that showed his evident excitement, "So fucking desperate for me."

Your words were almost enough to make him lose his cool right then and there, but then, as you placed your palm against his bulge, he melted back into the couch, stuttering whatever he was about to say.

"So pathetic; you're so hard for me," You move your palm away from him, moving to pull down the waistband of his boxers, letting him spring free.

"You're so fucking beautiful, sweethear-" He cuts himself off abruptly with a moan as your lips wrap around his tip.

You suck gently, using your tongue to trace his slit, loving the sounds of his moans and whines.

"You're doing so amazing, darling," His voice is hoarse from the pleasure and the sight of you between his legs.

With the praise, you take more of him into your mouth, moaning at the way his tip hits the back of your throat as you feel his hand tangle itself in your hair.

"That's right," His grip on your hair tightens as you hollow out your cheeks around him, "Just like that, baby."

It was adorable to you how easily you can cause his undoing, how easy it was to make him melt in your hands.

You speed up your movements as you bob your head up and down, changing the pressure of your cheeks around him as you moved.

"Oh, baby," He's practically whimpering as he tugs at your hair, "Please don't stop, I'm so close."

It was like music to your ears, his begging tone making you want to never stop pleasing him.

In just a few more seconds, you feel his tip hit the back of your throat again, releasing his warm seed into your mouth, moaning as he feels your throat constrict with its natural instinct to swallow.

He panted as he pulled your mouth off of him, eyes staring down at you with the most loving look you've ever seen from anyone but him.

"So pretty with my cum down your throat." You both smirk at each other as you wipe your lips.

#drooling over aj's tattoos #aj in that slutty tank top showing off his tattoos #hayden christensen #takers aj #aj #aj takers #hayden christensen takers #hayden christensen aj #i need him so bad #hayden christensen smut #smut

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arcanarix · 3 hours

Text

toji x gn!reader, afab!reader

CW // stalker toji, under desk oral / cunnilingus

toji murmurs your name into your ear as your eyes squeeze shut, desperate to ignore the embarrassment burning in your chest.

“what’s wrong? you don’t need to be shy.”

you’re supposed to be in a video call with your supervisor in half an hour. but toji has a little issue with keeping his hands to himself. not that it ever bothers you, but you have to plaster on that customer service voice and expression and maintaining that while toji’s free roaming hands are sneaking down to your thighs is next to impossible.

“if i get fired, you owe me a job,” you threaten, “and honestly, i can’t afford that now.”

oh toji knows you can’t, and that’s why he’s slick about this, slipping under your desk and prying your legs apart. your face reddens, and you adjust yourself, swiping a facial tissue off of your large monitor stand and wiping the sweat and heat away.

toji can’t keep his hands to himself. toji can’t let you have your personal space either. not that you’re aware but up until now he knows how you spend every second of your day. he only wants to get to know you a bit more intimately. to you you have dated only three or so months but to him? Three years.

his eyes shimmer at the sight. since you work from home, you forgo wearing pants and sometimes even your underwear in the house which has given him plenty of open opportunities obviously not to your knowledge.

your pussy is so cute, so bubblegum pink, and so ripe and all his to devour as you struggle to contain your moans and cries for him to just take you right there. sometimes he idolizes taking you in front of your boss or supervisors, but he knows you don’t enjoy playing with fire in that regard and he respects your boundaries.

mostly.

you jump in your seat as your video call begins, and sighing, you opt for shutting off the video while toji is trailing kisses between your inner thighs, leaving little marks behind. greeting the supervisor, the meeting begins and you know toji’s going to take his sweet time but also is sneaky about everything. you’re not so sure you can behave though.

You’re caught off guard as your supervisor calls out to you and toji’s nose is pressed into your already dripping cunt; you can hear the wetness splatter onto your chair. you know it’s in your head but you also have sharp ears.

“Is everything alright?”

“er, yes, um,” you compose yourself, hooking your legs around toji’s neck and pulling him in close. you stifle a giggle as his tongue flicks along your nethers, like he’s honored to get to do this to you, like he’s proud to be on his knees for you.

“please, what were you saying about the deployment stage?”

“right. so let’s see here in these charts . . .”

it’s all white noise to you. try as you might your senses are all zeroed in on toji’s remarkable and skilled tongue.

your eyes trail down but they just see the crown of toji’s head. he’s hiding the little noises he makes pigging out on your cunt, and you bite down on your lip as your legs close in a little more.

the supervisor addresses you again.

“have you finished your assigned work?”

“yes sir, i did everything expected of me this week—!”

—toji pries your legs apart for more access, targeting your little clit.

“well done. looks like that’s all for this evening. great work team!”

you sign off and sigh in exasperation before melting into your chair and into the sensation of toji going to town on you.

“don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“mmm. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

toji never plans to, anyway.

24 notes · View notes

starsinthesky5 · 3 hours

Text

the alchemy || joe burrow x reader

description: why fight a feeling that is so strong? sometimes things are meant to be and you should let things fall into place. the transformation of something dull and broken into gold is hard to ignore, and you shouldn’t ignore it :)

a/n: another request! i love this song soo much so i hope you all enjoy! for the purposes of this fic, this takes place after their first superbowl appearance and after joe sprains his mcl.

also another flashback heavy fic because of the song 🤍

warnings: language, angst, allusions to sex

word count: 10k (dang she’s a long one)

————————————————————

Have you ever experienced something that happens once every few lifetimes? When those chemicals just hit you like white wine and make you drunk on the feeling. The feeling you get when you’re with the right person, that unbreakable connection, that intense and passionate love? That’s what you feel with Joe. Anyone in your position would hang onto that for as long as they could, and never let go. And you were, but something scared you and caused you to pull away.

Flashback to a few weeks ago

You and Joe were lying on the couch, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and watching a movie. You were wearing one of his hoodies and leaning against his chest. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder and your head was tucked under it. You guys were having some downtime together and were trying to squeeze in as much as you could before the football season started in a few weeks.

You looked up at him and saw the content look on his face, and it was all because of you. He looked comfortable for the first time in a long time. A lot was riding on this season, and Joe was a little overwhelmed with everything going on, but you were there to help him every step of the way.

“How ya feeling?” You asked your boyfriend.

He looked down at you and smiled, “I feel amazing. A lot better than I have these past few months,”.

You looked into his compelling eyes and could tell he was being truthful. He’d been struggling these past few months with his knee sprain, going to the Superbowl and losing, plus trying to get back to where he was before while trying to block out the outside noise. It had been a rough off-season for him, but one of the highlights had been meeting you early on.

You and Joe had met right after the Super Bowl through mutual friends. When you first met, there was an instant connection, emotionally and physically. It was like pure electricity and heat between you two, something you hadn’t experienced in a while. No matter how hard you tried to deny it and run from it, you couldn’t.

“That’s really great, Joe. I’m so proud of you for pushing through,” you grinned.

“I owe it to you. You really helped me pull through all this these past few months. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his hand moving to your cheek.

“Joe,” you said while placing your hand on top of his, wanting to tell him that he got to where he is right now because of his own hard work and dedication. You were just a silent observer to his greatness.

“You’ve done so much for me. These past few months have been a dream. Getting to spend all this time with you has literally been the biggest blessing and a huge reminder that things don’t always have to be so complicated,” he says before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your soft pink lips.

Your relationship with Joe felt pretty easy and relaxed, which was different for you since your previous relationships felt the complete opposite. You were his sanctuary and he was your light at the end of the dark tunnel.

You lean into the kiss for a few seconds before he pulls away. He searches your eyes for a few moments, “I love you,” he says against your lips. It felt like the word stopped and you got punched in the gut when he said those three words. You hadn’t heard those three words in a very long time, and the last person who said those words to you absolutely destroyed you. You had had a few relationships throughout your life, each one worse than the other and it crushed you every time it ended. Your first serious relationship ended because the guy fell out of love. Your next relationship ended because the guy had feelings for someone else. And your last relationship, your longest, ended because he cheated on you multiple times and tried to make it seem like it was your fault, and that was the final blow. He used those three words against you every time, and now those three words came out of Joe’s mouth.

He noticed your startled facial expression and immediately pulled back. “Are you okay?” He asked.

You were frozen. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond to him. It’s not that you didn’t love him, it’s just you were scared that it would happen to you again, and you wouldn’t be able to make it to the other side this time. You fell hard and fast for Joe, meaning if anything happened, it would shatter you beyond the point of return.

“I’m fine,” you lie while moving out of his arms.

“No, you’re not, I can see it. I just screwed things up didn’t I?” He said as he grabbed your hand. His face sported a worried and nervous look.

“No no no, you didn’t. I did,” you say, your heart racing and your face burning. “I can’t say it back,” you whisper as tears fill your eyes.

Joe stayed silent for a few moments as he collected his thoughts. He loved you so much and knew why you couldn’t say it back. It broke his heart that you were scared to say it back. He knew you cared for him and your relationship was going amazingly, but he still tried to do everything he could to make you forget about the others before him. He was trying to undo the damage they had done.

“Y/N-”,

“You deserve to have those three words said to you and I just can’t say it back. You are the most lovable, caring, and thoughtful human I have ever met, and I can’t even say it back?” You say as hot tears slide down your cheeks, feeling absolutely shitty that you were putting him in this position.

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says as he grabs your hands to calm you down. “I don’t care if you can’t say it back right now. I know it’s not easy for you,”.

“But you should care,”.

“But I don’t. I know why you can’t and it’s okay. If you need time, I’m here. I can wait. I will wait,” he soothes.

Your heart broke at the situation. You felt horrible for not being able to say those 3 words to him even though you felt those feelings towards him. He was willing to wait for you, but was he really? Joe could have anyone he wanted, so would he wait for you to make up your mind when he could just move to the next girl? You needed a minute to get yourself together, he didn’t deserve this, especially right before the start of the season.

“I- I just need a minute. I’m so sorry. I’ll text you, but I just need a minute from this,” you said as you got off the couch, collecting your things so you could leave.

Joe gets up, the look on his face makes you want to cry even harder. He lets out a sigh, “That’s okay, I understand. When you’re ready, I’m here,” he says.

You give him a little smile as you pull him in for a hug before walking to the door and leaving his house.

End of flashback

The sounds of football reporters from the TV snapped you back to the present. It was currently Game Day, week 1 to be specific, and you were watching from your couch in your apartment. You should be watching from the Burrow Suite, just like how you and Joe talked about all off-season, but you weren’t, and it broke your heart.

It had been a few weeks since you had seen him, you were constantly replaying the horrible conversation in your head and feeling worse each time. He had texted you a few times to check in, but that was about it. You asked for space and he was giving it to you and you didn’t want to cause any more distress to him, especially since week 1 was right around the corner. You didn’t know how he was feeling, what he was doing, or who he was with. It was driving you insane, but you didn’t need to be filling his space with your mess right now.

You watched the TV carefully as the camera moved back down onto the field, and closer to Joe. He was sitting on the bench in his pre-game gear, seemingly lost in thought as he stared off into space. He turned around and looked up for a few seconds, and that sight alone made your eyes well with tears again.

You knew exactly what he was looking at and who he was looking for. You. He was looking for you in the suite. And here you were, sitting on the couch, alone, while you were supposed to be cheering him on in person. You wiped your eyes and took a few deep breaths. You didn’t want to distract him with your drama, so you understood that this needed to happen. He had to be laser-focused and you were being a distraction.

And he was laser-focused. The Bengals won their first game of the season, 35-17, and Joe absolutely killed it. He didn’t miss a beat and the team was on fire from start to finish. The big smile on his face in his on-field interview calms you down and his post-game presser reassures you that he is doing good, at least for right now.

A few hours later, you were lost in your thoughts. You were pondering whether or not you should send him a text about how great he did in the game. Was it stupid to text him? Did he even care? What if another girl was with him right now doing what you would be doing with him after his game?

“Fuck it,” you mumbled while typing up a little message.

Hey! Watched the game today and you killed it!!! Didn’t miss a single beat, so proud of you!

Remember to elevate your leg with a cushion in case your knee feels a bit off. And also ice it, I think the ice wrap is in the freezer :))

You knew that his knee would probably be a little sore after today's game just like it would be after practice. You had discovered that throughout the off-season after he’d come over to your place after practice every day. You would be the one to help soothe any discomfort he had but since you weren’t there, you had to remind him.

Flashback to June

You were finishing up a project for work until you heard a soft knock on your apartment door. You looked over to the clock which read 3:30, meaning it was probably Joe since he would come over after practice wrapped up for the day. He would usually come over every Wednesday and Friday and sometimes stay the night or end up going back to his house pretty late. When he first started to do this, you asked him if it was too tiring for him since you figured he’d be able to fully unwind and decompress more in the comfort of his own home. But he told you that being with you was his way of relaxing and decompressing.

You hopped off of the barstool and turned off the stove before walking over to the door to let him in. You made some spicy chicken and rice, seasoning everything just as he liked it.

You opened the door and Joe immediately leaped onto you, pulling you in for an intimate hug.

“Hello to you too,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his large frame.

He lets out a laugh as you lead him back into your apartment, still hugging each other. He uses his foot to kick the door shut and pulls you in closer.

“You’re extra clingy today,” you laugh as you rub his back.

“Mmm, I missed you,” he mumbled against your head, pressing a delicate kiss onto your hair.

“Me too,” you said as you stood on your toes so you could press a kiss to his cheek. You pulled away from each other after a few more moments of being in each other’s arms and Joe’s nose wiggled as a smirk appeared on his face.

“You made my favorite,” he said, immediately recognizing the mouthwatering aroma.

“That I did,” you giggled. “Here, come sit on the couch. You’re probably sore and exhausted,”.

“Ooo, do I get treatment from my sexy nurse today?” He teased as he walked over and collapsed on the couch.

“If sweatpants and an old ass tank top from high school are sexy, then yes,” You grin while moving the cushions to help him elevate his knee.

He stares at you while you help him get cozy, “You don’t have to do all this,”.

“Since you demand to come over after practice, the least I can do is help you get comfy. Don’t want your knee to act up because you didn’t take care of yourself just because you were with me,” you say while moving his leg over to the cushions.

“Does it feel weird?” You look up and ask.

He lets out a sigh, “Yeah, a little,”.

“I’ll grab the ice wrap,” you say as you walk over to the freezer.

“Yes, Ms. Nurse,” he salutes before grabbing the TV remote to turn on an episode of The Office.

“Really funny, Joe,” you say.

A few minutes later, you wrap his knee in the ice wrap and curl up next to him on your couch, your head tucked under his strong arm and his hand sliding up and down your arm. You were playing with the strings of his hoodie and asked, “How was practice?”.

“It was good. I’m feeling and moving a lot better and the knee isn’t so bad. The soreness and weirdness will probably linger for a little bit so I’ll just have to put up with it,”.

“Good thing we got a routine down for taking care of it,” you smile.

“All thanks to you,” he says as he shakes your shoulder.

“You give me too much credit,”.

“Mmm no I don’t. You know exactly what works and what doesn’t work. But I think the biggest remedy is you. You make my life and evenings after practice so much more relaxing. Best medicine and treatment by far,” he says as he looks down into your eyes.

You stare into his baby blues for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

“You’re too much, Burrow,” you laugh as you pull away.

“But you can handle me so I can’t be thaaat much,” he smirks.

“What’s with the smirk,” you giggle.

“It’s just that you can handle me in more ways than one,” he says as he moves you into his lap, straddling his hips and chest pressed against his warm skin.

“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” you say as you shake your head. “But you are right, I can handle you in every way possible. Never too much,” you say as you lean back in for another kiss.

End of flashback

You let out a deep breath and quickly turned your phone off so you would stop thinking about it. He probably wouldn’t even answer until tomorrow so why bother thinking about it? You got up off the couch and walked into your kitchen to heat up some leftover pasta and heard a chime come from the living room. You whipped your head around and saw your phone light up. Your eyes widened and you ran back over to the couch to check what it was.

Thank You! And thanks for the reminder. I already have the knee wrapped and my leg elevated. I’m glad you decided to watch. I was hoping you’d make it to the game but I get it

Your shoulders dropped at his text. He wanted you there and you let him down. You didn’t know how to respond to him because you didn’t want to make it worse, so you just decided to send a white heart emoji and turn your phone off.

You moved back onto the couch and fell back into the pillows. A loud exhale escapes your mouth, “What is wrong with me,” you say to yourself.

A few weeks later

It had been a few weeks since the first game of the season. It was currently week 6 and you still hadn’t seen Joe or really talked to him. The Bengals were 2-3 and you knew that was killing Joe and you wanted nothing more than to reassure him that it was going to get better. Like clockwork, the analysts began their ‘is Burrow really as good as people think he is?’ agenda just because he had a few bad games.

To help take your mind off of things, Jess had invited you out for lunch so you were getting ready for that. You were putting on your last bit of jewelry when one of your necklaces on your stand caught your eye. It was the infinity necklace Joe had gifted you for your birthday a few months ago.

Flashback to your birthday (August)

“And here is the last birthday gift,” Joe says as he places a tiny box in your lap.

“Are you sure it’s the last one?” You giggle.

He raises his brow and gives you a look that immediately shuts you up. He had surprised you with quite a few gifts today and many of them were very expensive looking. Each time you told him you didn’t need or want anything, but he clearly had a different idea.

“Okay, Okay,” you retreat, causing him to let out a laugh.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as you open the box. Inside the box was a beautiful diamond infinity necklace. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open, “Joe, this is so beautiful,” you say as you examine the gorgeous diamonds.

“Only the best for my girl,” he smiles as he squeezes your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to do all this. This must’ve been so expensive,”.

“So what? It’s your birthday and I think this infinity symbol really resonates with how I feel about you,” he says as he picks up the necklace out of the box. “Here, turn around so I can put it on,”.

You turn around and move your hair out of the way. The smile on your face says enough about your emotions. Butterflies filled your belly and your heart was overflowing with adoration. He was so good to you and always made sure you felt valued by him, and he would do anything to show you and seemingly wanted to show you that forever. Infinity. He wanted to be with you for infinity.

End of flashback

You stared at the necklace for a few moments. You hadn’t worn it since the day you freaked out on Joe but you looked at it every day. A silent reminder that he does value you and he does care, but moreover, he adores you. But you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t show him the same love he gave you.

You grabbed the necklace, not overthinking it, and put it around your neck. You then grabbed your stuff and left your apartment so you wouldn’t have time to reconsider wearing it.

A few hours later

“So she told me she couldn’t go because she spilled Juice all over her dress but I think it was because she didn’t want to be around Becca since she started dating her exes best friend,” Jess says as she takes a sip of her lemonade.

“Man, your college friends are really something,” you laugh as you take a bite of your salad.

“Tell me about it,” she smiles.

“So, what’s going on with you and Joe?” She asks straight up. “I see that you’re wearing the necklace,” she points out.

Your smile drops a bit as you take a deep breath. You knew you’d have to talk about it at some point and you really needed to talk about it to someone who you could confide in. Jess was the perfect person. You and her immediately clicked when you first met at a team dinner back in the off-season and have been great friends ever since.

“I don’t know. He told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back,” you frowned. “And as for the necklace, I don’t really know why I put it on today,”.

“Oh, Y/N,” she says as she reaches for your hand.

“I want to say it back but I’m scared. Joe has the ability to rip me to shreds if things go south and I can’t go through that again. Not after what happened in my last relationship. He’s so perfect and that worries me,” you say.

“Joe isn’t like the others,” Jess says.

“I know, and that’s why I’m confused. I don’t know why I’m being like this. He hasn’t given me a single reason to be this fearful. And I honestly don’t understand why he’s putting up with this. He’s probably better off forgetting about me and moving on with some other girl,”.

“Are you crazy?” She questioned. “Joe hasn’t stopped asking me about you. Every time I see him at the game he’s always asking about you and if you’re doing alright,” she giggles.

“Really?” You say, a little shocked that he thought about you that much, especially on game day.

“Yes, really. Y/N, he loves you. I’ve known Joe for a very long time and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s never been this in love with someone before. You’re special. You bring out the absolute best in him and he does the same for you,”.

“And you're saying there isn’t anyone else that he’ll just go to after he gets bored with me?” You ask.

“Nope. Never was and never will be. You’re the one to beat. You stole his heart. He’s never going to get bored when he has someone special like you in his life,” she winks.

“I think you’re just afraid of getting your heart broken again, and that’s fair. You’ve been through a lot and it can’t be easy to get into it again after going through a really tough and long relationship. But as your friend and as Joe’s friend, you owe it to him and yourself to try. He cares about you more than he cares about anyone, and that says a lot,”.

“The way Joe spent all those months in the off-season trying to win you over was unlike anything we’ve ever seen him do,”

Flashback to March

“He’s here?” you say to Jenna, wide-eyed and slightly nervous.

“Yeah, Dylan invited him,” She giggled. “Be prepared for another round of flirting, he is relentless,”.

Today was your friend Jenna’s birthday dinner. You had become friends at the end of last year when your job transferred you to the Cincinnati branch, and you instantly hit it off and became close friends in a short amount of time. She introduced you to all her friends and you became a part of their big group and that also meant becoming friends with her fiancee’s friends. They were all great and super friendly, except one of them was a bit too friendly with you. It was none other than the Bengals Quarterback, Joe Burrow. He and Dylan went to OSU together and were a part of the football program there and have kept in touch ever since, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked into your friend’s dinner.

“He just never stops. Like 2 weeks ago when we all went to Dinner for Jess’s birthday, he was stuck to my side the entire time,” you said to her.

“What did I tell you? He likes you, Y/N,” she laughed as she sipped her drink.

“Yeah right. I know how these football players roll and I am not about to get caught up in that mess and get my heart broken all in one go,” you say as you watch him closely. Joe had taken a particular interest in you ever since you had met in February. You weren’t exactly sure why, but every time you would see him, he would end up stuck to your side the entire time. He would constantly talk to you, literally never shutting up. He would make little comments about how pretty you looked and how you were the nicest person he had ever met. You had a lot of things in common such as your music taste, your favorite movies, your small-town upbringing, and even your childlike tendencies such as playing Mario Kart & Smash Bros religiously at your grown age. Just the usual flirting but you were not buying into it. Sure, you would play into it and flirt back, but you had 0 intentions of actually starting something with him out of all people.

Each time you saw him, each time he would try to get you to hang out with him, just the two of you. Whether it was him suggesting that you two watch a movie at his place, go out to a new restaurant, or do anything you wanted to do, you always shut him down. Partly because you had your guard up around him for various reasons, but also because you didn’t think he actually liked you. You thought he just wanted to hook up and become casual fuck buddies like a typical football player, but you had no idea that those were not his intentions at all.

Joe really did like you and was doing anything to get you to give him a chance. He hadn’t felt this way about a girl in a very long time, and he was set on winning you over by any means necessary. You felt a little bad watching him struggle with you each time, but you were silently enjoying it. Something about having a star QB wrapped around your finger was amusing.

“I won’t lie, it is kinda fun to watch him attempt to make a move every time we see each other,” you laugh as you continue to stare at him. Although you didn’t want any part of him, he did look absolutely sexy. You would be lying to yourself if you said he wasn’t the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life.

“I give it a few months. You’ll be wrapped up in his arms,” Jenna says as she waves Joe over. He ends his conversation with a friend and starts walking over, a smile creeps up onto his face when he notices you sitting at the table.

You whip your head over to face her as you see him start to walk over, “What are you doing?” you say as you try not to act rude.

“You’ll thank me for this in a few months,” she winks as she gets up from her chair, greeting Joe, and then walking over to Dylan, Sam, and Jess.

You took a few deep breaths as you watched him sit down right next to you. “Here we go again,” you thought to yourself.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, flashing his gorgeous smile to you.

“Hi, Joe,” you smile back.

“You look really pretty tonight,” he says as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Thank you,” you say back, hardly putting any effort into the conversation.

You both find yourself in some awkward silence for a few moments before Joe speaks up once again. “Soo, What have you been up to?”.

“Oh, nothing much. Just the usual,” you say as you play with the rings on your fingers.

“Cool, Cool,” he nods, the smile on his face slowly fading away.

“So Um, have you given my dinner offer any thought since the last time we saw each other?” he asked, referring to when he asked you if you wanted to get dinner with him at this new sushi place downtown that he had been dying to go to.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Sorry, but I’m swamped with work for a while, don’t think I’ll have any time,” you lied, fully expecting him to keep pushing you for it like he usually does. It kinda was like a game of cat and mouse. You kept running away and he kept chasing, never being able to catch you, but also never giving up.

He stays quiet for a few seconds as you watch his head drop and the grip on his drink tighten. He would normally start the playful banter by now but he hadn’t, which was odd.

“See, I just don’t get it,” he said, looking back up at you, his usually joy-filled eyes now empty.

“Get what?” you ask him, sitting up in your seat.

“You. I don’t get you. Ever since we met, you’ve been giving me mixed signals. I thought we had something going on here since you were very clearly flirting back, but every fucking time I try to move to the next step, you dodge me like the plague. I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?” he said.

“Joe, I-” you said, not knowing what to say to him. You felt horrible but he was right. You were sending him mixed signals but you thought he was having fun as well. Truth was, you weren’t dodging him, deep down you knew he was a good person and you actually enjoyed his company, you were just dodging the idea of dating and being in a relationship again. You just struggled with the idea of opening up to a person like that again, especially since the last time you did, it was used against you. And you were taking it out on Joe.

“What? Literally, what could you possibly have to say?” he asks, his face turning a little red but his voice remaining leveled. Even though he was upset, he made sure not to raise his voice.

You felt like throwing up in the moment because you felt awful for making him feel like this. The silence in between was enough of a response for him to get up. “Yeah, I figured. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry if something about me makes you want to run in the opposite direction,” he says as he turns around and walks back over to your friends who had just watched all this unfold.

You just sat there in silence, feeling shitty for making him feel like he was the problem when in reality, it was you. You got up and walked to the bathroom, trying to escape the now awkward ambiance and also compose yourself.

“What was that about?” Jess asked Joe when he walked over to them.

He shook his head and took a few deep breaths before saying, “I don’t know. I thought she liked me too but every single time I try to make a move, she shuts me down,”. “I don’t know what the fuck I did,”.

“Joe, you didn’t do anything,” Jenna said.

“Then why is she acting like this? When we first met, everything was going well. We had good conversations, she could be around me without looking like she had to throw up, and now? Now she won’t even hold a conversation with me,” he said.

“It’s because she’s scared of getting her heart broken again. All her exes were absolute assholes, each one worse than the other. Her last one really did a number on her but that’s not my story to tell. Just know, it was bad,” Jenna said.

“Jenna’s right. It is not your fault at all. I think deep down, she likes you too but is scared to admit it,” Jess added. “She always looks relaxed with you and seems like she always is having fun,”.

“I just wish she would give me a chance. It feels like I hit a brick wall with her and shit is not moving,” Joe says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, don’t give up man. I know you and you definitely don’t back down from a challenge,” Dylan says, patting his back.

“Yup. She’ll come around,” Sam says.

“You just have to show her that you really really care about her. I know her and I know that once she sees how sincere you are about this, she’ll come through,” Jenna says.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but Y/N loves cliche romantic gestures. Specifically handwritten love letters,” Jess winks.

“Ooo, nothing more romantic than a love letter,” Jenna says while looking over to see if you have come back from the bathroom.

“A love letter? Do I look like Romeo,” Joe scoffs. Seriously, a love letter? Joe could barely write out a sincere birthday message for his friends and family and they expect him to write a love letter?

“Listen, if you really wanna get the girl, try one more time,” Jess encourages.

He thinks about it for a few seconds before giving in. This had to work. If you really liked gestures like this, Joe was going to make sure it was the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.“This better work,” He says.

“Just don’t feel bad Joe. She just needs to see that you really want this and I think this just might do it,” Jenna says.

“Yeah, I Hope so,” Joe says as he glances over to where you were sitting, the seat now empty. “I’m gonna go get some air,” he says to your friends as he walks out to the entrance of the restaurant.

They were right. Joe never backed down from a challenge and he really wanted you. He was going to do whatever it took to win you over, even if that meant doing something he would never think to do in a million years.

“I’ve never seen Joe like this before,” Sam says to everyone after Joe walks away.

“Tell me about it. She has him wrapped around her finger and I really hope she doesn’t pass on this,” Jess says.

“They’re perfect for each other. She just needs to see it and hopefully this will do it,” Jenna says as you walk back out to the dining room.

A few days later

It had been a few days since Jenna’s birthday dinner. You had managed to avoid Joe the entire night but still felt guilty at the fact that you had been so terrible to him for reasons out of his control.

You were sitting on your couch reading one of your favorite romance novels. Everything was always so perfect in the books. The girl always got the boy and everything was so romantic and beautiful. When was it going to be your turn? When would you be able to feel like the girls in the books? A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts, “Hm?” You questioned since you weren’t expecting anyone.

You walked over to the door, opened it, and then were met with a large flower arrangement, no human in sight.

“What the hell,” you said to yourself as you crouched down to pick up the beautiful flowers, which happened to be your favorite, pink roses.

You kicked the door shut with your foot as you walked over to the kitchen island. “Who are these from?” You asked yourself. You searched the flowers for a card and found one tucked into the bottom of the pot.

You pulled over a barstool and sat down before you opened up the envelope. A little note was folded inside. You carefully pulled the paper out and opened it up to read it. You tilted your head out of confusion. The note was handwritten and the handwriting looked a little familiar.

—

Dear Y/N,

I don’t really know how to do this, but please don’t think this is cringey or corny. I think I’ve rewritten this letter like 5 times now so I'm really trying to make this work. Anyways, I feel awful for the way I handled things the other day and I know you’re probably sick of me but I just can’t ignore these feelings anymore.

From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you—something that drew me in and captivated my heart. You’re a very special girl and you deserve all the happiness in the world, and I hope that I can be a part of that. I know it’s only been a short amount of time since we’ve met but every time I see you, I’m reminded that you’re not just something I dreamed about. You’re real and you’re here. And I want to be with you.

Your smile lights up my world and your laughter is like music to my ears. Every time you walk into a room, my heart skips a beat and I find myself completely enchanted by your presence. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, both inside and out.

I find myself constantly thinking about you, day and night, dreaming of the day when I can finally tell you how much you mean to me. Your kindness, your intelligence, your sense of humor - all of these things make me fall for you more and more with each passing day.

I know that I might just be a small blip on your radar, but I couldn't let another day go by without expressing my feelings for you. I know that this is hard for you, but I really hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that I’m different, and that we can be different.

Sending my love,

Joe.

—

You felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks and onto the countertop, as you finished reading the letter. Nobody had ever written you a love letter before even though it was something you would constantly dream about and mention indirectly to your ex-lovers. None of them got the hint that this was something you wanted. But here you were, reading a love letter from a guy who didn’t even know about your silly little dream but somehow made it come true.

He really cared about you and he wasn’t playing around. The contents of the letter had made his feelings about you incredibly clear and opened up your eyes to what you were missing out on. He was such a sweet, kind-hearted, and gentle person and you had him right at your fingertips. And you were about to push him away for good.

You wiped your tears as you pulled out your phone from your pocket, pulling up Joe’s contact and hitting the call button. You prayed he would pick up, and he did.

“Hello?” He said, slightly breathless as he was in the middle of working out.

“You’re an idiot,” you laughed through the tears.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s me,” you sniffled. He remained quiet on the other end so you took it as a chance to finally reciprocate the feelings he had for you.

“I got your letter and flowers,” you smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked, putting his dumbbell down and sitting on the workout bench. His stomach was in knots as he was anxious about what your response would be.

“Are you free tonight? I heard that the new sushi place downtown is to die for,” you giggled as you twirled your hair.

Joe’s face immediately lit up and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He stayed silent for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and he sure as hell wasn’t. “Yeah, I am. I’ll pick you up in an hour,” he says.

“It’s a date,” you say, biting your bottom lip, your stomach filled with butterflies and anticipation. It was finally your chance to get the boy.

After weeks of waiting and trying, Joe had finally won you over. He had finally won the trophy and ultimate prize which was you.

End of flashback

Nobody had played the field for you like Joe had. You were pretty unlucky when it came to relationships but when you met Joe, everyone who was attempting to play the field just ended up warming the bench. He never gave anyone else a moment to try to win you over. Throughout the off-season, he was doing just about everything to win your heart and he was killing it. You were on a winning streak, up until you ruined it with your childish fears.

“I just- I haven’t felt the way I feel with him in a long time and that scares the hell out of me. The last time I felt that way, I was so blinded by it and it got the best of me,” you replied, your stomach churning at the mention of your last relationship.

“I understand that. But not every guy is going to take advantage of your love. Even though I’ve known you for a few months, I can see that you have so much love inside of you. I can see the love in your eyes for him. Don’t let your past get in the way of something promising and special,” she told you.

“You tell me something new he does for you and a new funny story about him literally every time I see you. You always have this radiant smile when you’re around him and this look in your eyes that most people would say only is seen in someone once every few lifetimes,” Jess adds as she points at your necklace.

“Like look at that. He basically told you it was you and him for infinity. He’s not going anywhere, trust me,” she laughs. “Don’t fight it,”.

You take another deep breath and think about what she’s saying. She’s right. You and Joe had been together for 6 months and in those 6 months he never made you feel bad about yourself, he never made you feel neglected, and he definitely never made you feel unloved. He was different from everyone else and you loved him so much. It wasn’t his fault that the others hurt you so badly and you owed it to him to try.

He was what you had been waiting for your entire life and now that you’d finally had it, you were so close to ruining it. He wasn’t like the others, not one bit. You loved everything about him and he loved everything about you. He showed you what real love felt like, and taught you how to love again. She was right, why should you fight it? You had struck gold with Joe.

“I love him,” you realize, a smile creeping up your face.

“There we go,” she says as she claps her hands together and falls back into the chair.

“I really love him,” you repeat, wanting to scream it at the top of your lungs.

“And I’m sure he would be incredibly happy to hear that,” she smiles. “Wait, you should come to the game on Sunday,” she

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t I wait to talk to him until after this week's game?” You asked.

“I have a feeling he’d be more than excited to see you at the game this week. Might give him that kick he needs to break out of whatever came over him this past 2 games,” she says.

“Yeah, he has been a little off lately,” you frown. You didn’t know if it was because of you or his knee or something else, but something was off about him.

“If you decide to come, I’ll be waiting at the suite entrance since I know it would be your first time at a game,”

“Maybe I’ll come around, it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen him,” you said.

It was true, it had been so long since you’d seen him. And you missed him so much. You missed his little laugh, his silly jokes, his adorable smile, his beautiful eyes, his sexy morning voice, and most importantly, the warm and comforting feeling you got around him.

“Mhm,” she replied. “You should wear his jersey too. I’m sure he’d love it,”.

Sunday — Paycor Stadium

You walked into the stadium, taking a deep breath as you made it inside. You were wearing his jersey for the first time and were feeling a little nervous about the entire situation. You haven’t been to his game before, you haven’t even worn his jersey before, and you definitely didn’t know what the hell you were going to say to him once you saw him. You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t realize that you had walked over to the Suite entrance where Jess was waiting for you, just like she had said.

“You made it!” She said as she pulled you in for a hug. “And your outfit looks so cute,” she adds, pointing out your jersey. You had put on the white bengal jersey, a vintage Bengals dad hat, and your favorite pair of jean shorts. And the cherry on top is your infinity necklace.

“Yeah,” you said, a little frazzled because of the many thoughts floating through your head.

She noticed your worried face and said, “Hey, don’t stress. It’ll be just fine, I promise,”.

“I hope so,” you mumble.

She turned her head around, looking to see if the hallway behind her was clear. “Joe won’t be able to come up here now, but that hallway leads straight to the tunnel and locker room entrance,” she says, fully implying that you should go down there and see him.

A smile creeps up your face and you start playing with the infinity necklace around your neck. “Go get your boy,” she teases.

She was right, time to stop being afraid. He was yours and you were his, there was no use fighting the alchemy. What’s meant to be, is meant to be, and you two were meant to be.

You told her you’d be back in 10 or so minutes and made your way down the illustrious hallway. The walls were decorated with Bengals memorabilia, ranging from the beginning of the team and up to now. There were quite a few things on the walls about Joe, and seeing them made your heart full.

You made your way down to the tunnel and locker room area, not sure where you should go from here. He did tell you a while back that family was allowed to be down here once in a while before or after the game, but you didn’t know where you should be.

You took a peak at the field, seeing that there were a few players in their jerseys out there. “He must be getting ready to go out for some last-minute warmups before the walk-in,” you said to yourself.

A sigh left your lips as you sat down on the bench across from the locker room entrance. You waited there for a few moments until you saw the door open, and out came Sam.

You immediately stood up and walked over to him and he noticed you instantly, “Oh- Hey Y/N! It’s great to see you. Jess told me you may be coming to the game so it’s great to see you here! How are you?” he asked.

“I’m amazing Sam, Um, where’s Joe?” You said, getting straight to the point.

He chuckled and shook his head, “He should be coming out in a minute. Man, you two are definitely something,”.

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he quickly cut you off because he had to go. “Anyways, I gotta go out there but good luck and enjoy your first in-person game,” he smiles as he puts his helmet on and starts to jog out.

You say goodbye to him as you lean back against the wall. “Any minute now,” you whisper to yourself.

A few minutes pass and you decide to go on your phone, seeing a few messages from Jess. She was letting you know that she was sitting inside the suite and grabbed you some food for when you got back. You were in the middle of sending her an update when you heard the door swing open. 3 men stepped out in their football gear and walked over to the tunnel, however, 1 stayed right in front of you.

“Y/N?” the familiar voice asked.

You looked up from your phone, and there he was. The man of your dreams, the person who made you feel cherished and safe.

“Joe,” was all you could say. The nerves you had been feeling for the past hour suddenly disappeared at the sight of him.

He walked closer to you as you slipped your phone into your back pocket. His heart fluttered as he noticed you had his jersey on, but most importantly, you had the necklace on.

“What are you doing-,” he said before you leaped into his arms, taking him by surprise which caused him to stumble back a little.

“I’m so sorry. I am so so so so sooo sorry,” you said as you pushed your face into the crook of his neck. His arms hovered for a second before moving around your waist, holding you tightly.

“For what?” he asked.

You pulled your face out of his neck and met his eyes, “Everything. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere,” you said as you gazed lovingly into his eyes.

“But that’s only if you still want me-,” you add before he leans down and pushes his lips against yours. God, you missed the feeling of his lips against yours.

You both pull away after a few seconds, “Does that answer your question?”.

You grin at his little gesture, “Absolutely,”.

He pulls you back into him, swaying you back and forth for a little. “We can talk after the game? At least, that’s if you’re staying,”.

“You really think I would be wearing your jersey if I wasn’t here to watch you,”.

“Fair point,” he laughs. He looked out over at the field and saw a few of the staff looking for him. “I gotta go,”.

You release yourself from his embrace, “Don’t wanna keep them waiting too long,” you giggle. “I’ll be up in the Burrow Suite, just like we talked about,”.

Joe felt like melting in the moment. He still couldn’t believe you were here, in his jersey, and were about to watch him play. He was scared and thought that he had lost you for good after what happened but you proved him wrong.

“I’ll be looking for you,” he says, giving you a look that tells you he means business.

“And I’ll be there, I swear,” you salute.

He pulls you back in for another hug, “God, I can’t believe you’re here right now,”.

“Well, get used to it. I think I’ll be letting them know to save a permanent seat for me up there,”.

“I’ll buy you a whole suite just for yourself if you want me to,” he jokes, only partly.

“Baby Steps, Joey. Baby steps,” you giggle.

Your tender moment is soon interrupted by a training staff member walking by, “Joe, we need you out there. They wanna go over a few things before kick-off,”.

“I‘ll be there in a sec,” he says, still holding you.

“You should probably go before they send out a search party,” you say as you look up at him.

“You’re probably right,” he laughs as he lets go of you. “I’ll see you after the game in the suite. Hope you have fun,” he smiles.

“Oh I will,” you respond. Joe presses a kiss onto your cheek before walking towards the tunnel.

“Wait,” you whisper to yourself. “Wait, Joe!” You yell as you speed walk over to him before he goes out. He quickly turns around, “What’s Wrong?”.

You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders before moving your face closer to his, pressing a warm kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips after you pull away. His eyes widen at your words and his stomach does a backflip. “Knock ‘em dead, Shiesty,” you say as you press another kiss to his lips before walking back to the hallway that leads up to the Suites. He felt absolutely love-struck as he watched you walk away. You said it. You finally said it.

“Damn,” He whispered to himself, a huge smile on his face.

An hour later

The game was going great. Joe was killing it and seemed to have snapped out of whatever came over him the past two weeks. It was the start of the fourth quarter, the Bengals leading 27-21, and you were having the time of your life.

“This is so fucking fun,” you grin as you take another sip of your drink.

“Welcome to the football life my friend,” Jess laughs.

“He’s too good, he is TOO good,” you yell, slightly tipsy since you had a few drinks. You mental note to not drink stadium cocktails because they were so strong, and you were definitely feeling it.

“Ooof, third down and this is a crucial spot,” you say, standing up and moving closer to the railing.

“Let’s see how it goes,” Jess says, putting her drink down and joining you at the railing. You held your breath as you watched the play unfold. Joe took a few steps to the side and a little back and then moved around as the pocket collapsed. He found an opening and launched the ball down the field, all the way into the endzone, which was then caught by Ja’marr for the touchdown.

The crowd erupted at Joe’s impressive movement considering his knee and the amazing throw. “Holy Shit! That was a Dime!” you screamed over to Jess as you jumped up and down.

“Look down there!” she said as she shook your arm out of joy.

You looked down and saw Joe facing the suite, on a knee doing what looked like the ‘archer’ pose, and drawing back his bow and arrow. He smiled as he released the imaginary bow straight up at you. Everyone below you in the stands looked up to see what he was paying so close attention to and saw you.

“Awww,” Jess teased.

You moved your hand to your heart as if you were struck by the bow and stumbled back for dramatic effect, and he noticed. Everyone noticed. He waved at you as he got up and a blush rose on your cheeks. It was very clear that the sign on his heart was still reserved for you by his very public declaration of his love for you. If people hadn’t caught on that Joe Burrow had a girlfriend, they sure knew now.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him as he took his helmet off.

“I love you too,” he mouthed back, setting off fireworks in your heart.

A few hours later

The game ended with the Bengals winning 37-24, and people were raving about how Joe was finally looking like himself again. You had the best time watching him absolutely tear it up. You were currently waiting for him to meet you in the suite, pure dopamine coursing through your veins after that electric game.

You were staring out onto the empty field, taking in the feeling. The bright lights and the poster of Joe being lifted up over his friend’s heads after the win that sent them to the Super Bowl last year on the side of the stadium made this all start to feel real. This was going to be a common thing for you, you belonged here.

You heard the door swing open, meaning Joe was finally here. You turned around and saw him standing there with the biggest smile on his face. You ran over and launched yourself into his arms, pressing maybe a dozen kisses around his face.

“You did so good, Joe,” you say in between kisses. “I’m so proud of you,”.

“Thank You,” he laughs as he holds you closer, never wanting to let go now that he had you for good. “I needed that extra kick from the heroine from earlier,”.

“What Kick?” you asked, incredibly confused.

He burst out laughing once he realized what you were thinking of. “Heroine with an e”, he jokes. “Ya know, a girl with extraordinary characteristics and a great way of going about things,”.

“And am I supposed to be the Heroine?” you said as you tilted your head.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nods.

“But what did I say that gave you the extra kick?” you asked, completely oblivious.

“Oh, you know, the ‘L’ word,” he said.

You paused for a few seconds before shouting, “Oh, you mean love?” as you leaned back a little while Joe nodded. “Yup it is true, I love you! I loveeee you Joe Burrow!,” you screamed at the top of your lungs. Normally you would never think of screaming in public like this, but it was a mostly empty stadium and empty suite. Just the two of you and you felt that feeling so strongly and this was the best way to let it out.

“Are you drunk?” He laughs.

“Maybeee a little. Don’t get mad, those stadium cocktails are not for the weak,” you slur. “But that doesn’t make this any different, I still love you. Sober, Drunk, or High,”.

“I love you,” he laughed before leaning in to press a deep kiss onto your pink lips which caused you to stumble back a little, his grip on your waist incredibly strong like he was never going to let go.

You both stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, chatting about the game and how he absolutely loved the feeling he got once he saw you sitting in his suite. And you telling him about how much fun you had at your first football game.

“It was amazing,” you said as you both sat down on the couch in the corner. “I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life ,”.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he grinned, reaching over and entwining your fingers.

“I’m so proud of you, I mean you really killed it. I know the last few games were tough and those clowns wouldn’t shut up about their stupid ‘burrow is overrated’ agenda, but you didn’t let that get to you. You went straight for the crown,”.

Joe started laughing which made you a little confused. “What’s so funny?” you asked.

“Just laughing at the scene. I can’t believe you’re here right now and giving me a motivational speech about football,”.

“We’ll get used to it Joe, I think I’m taking a permanent position as your personal cheerleader,” you say as you run your hand through his wet curls.

“God, I love you,” he says, your smile dropping a little which he notices.

“Hey Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks while absentmindedly rubbing your hand to help you relax.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” you said while looking down at your feet.

“Hey, don’t say that,” he says as he squeezes your hand. “You’re here, that is what matters,”.

“You’re right, I am,” you say as you look back up with a smile. “And I don’t ever plan on leaving. You are what I’ve been waiting for and I finally have what I’ve always wanted. Someone who really loves me and appreciates everything about me. Someone who gets me and makes me feel like I’m on Cloud 9,”.

“I’m done being afraid of Love. You’ve shown me what true love feels like and that you are not like the amateurs. You know exactly how to win a girl over and treat her like she is the most special person in the world,”

“Not only that. You also have someone who is infatuated with you, thinks you’re the coolest girl in the world, the most gorgeous woman to grace the planet, and the most remarkable human being he has ever met,” he adds.

You feel like a breath of fresh air just hit your face and like you could breathe again. It was going to be different this time. It was going to be different because of Joe.

“I love you,” you said to him again.

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he says as he moves his hand to cup your cheek.

“Good, I’ll never get tired of saying it,” you say as you move your hand onto his which is on your cheek.

“I’m glad we just let things fall into place by itself,” he says. “Well, other than my many attempts to win you over in the beginning. But after I finally won you over, everything was natural. Even this moment,” he says as he moves his hand back to yours, once again entwining your fingers.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Who are we to fight the alchemy?”.

“Alchemy?” He asks as he raises his eyebrow.

“Yup. Same thing as chemistry, but that’s too common of a word to describe this. Alchemy is rare and it’s magical. A kind of transformation that only happens once every few lifetimes,”.

“You turned something broken and dull into gold,” you add. “Alchemy,”.

“Huh, I guess I should use the word Alchemy to describe us from now on,” he says while rubbing your thigh.

You moved closer to his warm body and pressed a slow kiss onto his lips, “Sounds like a plan,”. The love inside of you quickly turned to lust at the sight of your boyfriend plus the alcohol in your system. He looked absolutely mouthwatering. His wet hair from his post game shower, his flowy black shorts, and his partially wet white tee was sending you into overdrive.

“Did I mention how sexy you look wearing my jersey?” he teased as he looked down at your outfit.

“I mean, it is yours so technically you look sexy wearing it too,” you giggled.

“Mmm, you make it look sexier,” he disagrees.

The soft glow of the lamp next to the couch wrapped around you both as you sat on the couch with Joe. The tension between you was palpable, the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

You finally accepted your love for Joe and he was yours. Now you could fully enjoy these moments with him without that nagging thought of getting your heart broken in the back of your mind.

Without saying a word, he reached out and pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce and hungry kiss.

His hands roamed your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't control. The physical connection between you was extremely clear once again. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you building with every passing second.

You straddled his lap, feeling the hard muscles of his chest beneath your fingertips as you ran your hands over his body, desperate for more. Joe's kisses were fierce and demanding, his passion evident in every touch.

Lost in the moment, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you became lost in each other. As the intensity of your passion grew, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a heated embrace. And in that moment, nothing else mattered but the raw love you felt for each other.

You pulled away from the passionate kiss, breathless and your chest heaving. You looked into his ocean blue eyes which were filled with love and warmth and said, “I love you Joe Burrow, forever and ever,”.

You weren’t scared anymore. You stopped fighting the alchemy and let the magical transformation happen just like it was supposed to.

—The End—

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 4 hours

Text

unpopular(ish) tig opinions/mostly just me ranting

a few people have done this so here are mine (also just me ranting)

this one isn't super controversial but i don't really like alisa. she's nice and all, but the way she treats libby is just so weird to me and i can't bring myself to love her.

most people in this fandom are grayson stans but my fav is jameson. i love grayson, don't get me wrong, but i feel like his character is sort of overdone. i mean, almost all love interests nowadays are moody, broody, i never smile except when im with you. im happy avery ended up with jamie not just cause they fit together, but bc, for once, the love interest isn't the broody type (like i said, love grayson dont hate me)

i commented this under a post, and i don't think this is super unpopular but im lyra neutral. i literally cannot love a character unless i know them (i dont hate her either, i just don't have an opinion)

ok, this one might get me some hate, but, although grayson had the right to be mad in tig bc avery inherited the money, i do think he did go too far sometimes. there's this one time, where he was just unnecessarily rude to avery, telling her she didn't know what it was like to suffer (midway through to book, don't remember the chapter but its there and it makes no sense bc she grew up with no money while this dude is a privileged white man, like all of his brothers (except for xander cause he isn't white)). like i said, he had the right to be mad, but avery did nothing to him, and, so, he had no right to say some of the things he said to her. he does get better, and he does apologize (i think, but even if he doesn't idc cause hes nice to her now). like i said, he had the right to be mad cause i mean he did grow up thinking he'd inherit and he didn't, but he shouldn't have taken out all of his anger on her. he had the right to doubt her and think she had ulterior motives, but he had no right to accuse her of being a gold digger when she had done NOTHING to gray for him think that (dont take this as me not liking gray, he's one of my fav characters ever (but no one beats jamie (and nash)))

idk if this one will make sense and ik some people will agree with me if this does, but the way avery is treated in this fandom is really shitty. she's pretty much only mentioned when people are talking about the love triangle. she's bashed bc she didn't choose grayson (which she had the right to bc jamie was made for her and gray wasn't), her trauma is super overlooked. i wish people would pay more attention to her. also, i mentioned this earlier, but some people (not many but some) let other people (like gray and thea) get away will at the mean things they said to avery bc they're their favorite characters. (obviously, they can be your fav characters. my best friend's fav character is gray, and, when i first read the books, i liked gray over jamie for a small period of time, but its wrong to let them get away things just bc you like them.

people will agree with me, but jameson and grayson's trauma should NOT be compared. trauma is trauma no matter how "bad" it is (note the quotation marks around bad). ive mostly seen people compare jamie to gray saying that gray's trauma is worse which is so fucking mean. they both have trauma. they both have it bad. no one should be comparing. i will make a longer post about this bc this is smth i'm very passionate about and it pisses me off. (ive lost count of the amount of times ive compared my trauma to others thinking i had no right to complain bc others had it worse, so don't do it to fictional characters plsss)

the tiktok/insta fandom sucks. the amount of averygrayson shippers ive seen bash avery on those platforms is too much. the only healthy part of the fandom is on tumblr.

not controversial but thea is not a girl boss, she's just a mean girl. she's not iconic.

people should not bash people for their favorite characters. i've seen this mostly on older posts (like before tfg was released) but some people will go 'xander's my fav' or 'avery's my fav' and people in the comments would go 'but grayson exists' or 'but jameson exists'. let people like who they want to like. all characters are great (mostly, i hate thea and all of the bad guys).

i couldn't care less about eve's redemption arc. she ruined toby's life, and as someone who loves toby and avery's father-daughter dynamic, i will never forgive her. she also treated grayson horribly, basically got alisa kidnapped (cause alisa wouldn't have gotten kidnapped if eve hadn't gotten toby kidnapped), and more so if she ever does get a redemption arc, i will be throwing hands.

if i see people complaining about lyra's character when tgg comes out bc 'they were expecting someone different' i will be pissed. im sure lyra will be great (hopefully). it doesn't matter if she's a girl boss or a more like rebecca.

grayson is not 'the most misunderstood character in the fandom'. he's literally the most popular character. people are constantly gushing about him and his trauma. other characters like avery, jameson, and xander (and others) are so much more misunderstood. no ones takes the time to understand them like they do with grayson. people are constantly talking about his trauma, and how people shouldn't hate him bc he's 'misunderstood'. people have the right to hate him, and his trauma isn't overlooked as the fandom's most popular character. he is a complex character, and i will be making in depth posts about him bc i find him interesting and i really like his character, but he's the most understood character in the fandom. i've noticed that people tend to say he's misunderstood right after coming up with the most nonsensical take defending all of his actions saying that he has trauma (trauma is not an excuse its an explanation)

even if grayson would've gotten up to help avery after the bombing 1. he would've never gotten there on time and 2. he might have gotten more hurt.

i said this earlier while talking about gray but trauma is not an excuse its an explanation. do with that what you will. i just have to repeat it.

people who claim jameson was not affected by emily's trauma are the bane of my existence (yes, they exist, i've seen them)

ik i mentioned gray a lot in this and it might seem like i don't like him, but i swear i LOVE him. i find his character very interesting and complex and i really wanna analyze his character once i'm done rereading. i just hate toxic grayson stans (most of yall aren't, but they exist)

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #averyjameson #averygrayson #alisa ortega #thea calligaris #eve laughlin

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tunaababee · 22 hours

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we will be everything we say - Chapter 6

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 3.5k // updates Mondays (aest)

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: TW for mentions of parental death and abusive behaviours. if you're unable to handle that right now and would like a chapter summary, head to AO3 and look at the chapter's end notes! please look after yourself.

Chapter 6: twenty-three and twenty-four

Tension lingered in the air like a heavy fog, accompanying the grey clouds overhead that helped set the incredibly morose atmosphere. It was fitting, considering what was happening today.

Feyre sat with her sisters, side by side, in the front row of the funeral home. It was a small, simple service - their father had never been a very outgoing man, and it had only gotten worse after their mother had died. Elain had been the one to handle all of the correspondence with the florist, a blend of tulips, carnations, and baby’s breath all stark white in large bunches over the casket. Elain barely looked like herself, with the long-sleeved black dress seeming to drain her of life so much so that she seemed to rival the lifeless body of their father in the coffin at the front of the room. It didn’t help that Elain probably took his passing the hardest. Nesta, on the other hand, looked like she was in her element. Cold, sharp, all angles and precision. Her outfit looked like she was ready to go to a board meeting or an interview, all practicality and projecting that strong visage she held so deeply on to. Both sisters knew there were a lot of complicated feelings towards their father that were simmering just barely underneath the surface of that tailored coat and her a-line skirt, but nobody dared speak it. They just wanted to get through today and put it behind them. The three of them could unpack their own baggage at a later date.

Today Feyre was nervous for a couple of reasons - she’d never been very good at public speaking, and yet she was the one who was giving the eulogy. She heard the funeral officiant say her name, rising from her seat and moving to the front of the room like a ghost of herself, hands shaking slightly. Her hands smoothed out her dress anxiously, fingers moving to fiddle with the oversized sleeves of her long cardigan before she gripped the cistern. Her eulogy was true, but simple - he was a caring husband, a father who loved his daughters, a man who never quite recovered from his demons. The details of what she wrote were merely a haze in her mind as she read it off of the paper she had prepared. But that wasn’t the main reason she was nervous.

What really made her nervous today was the pair of piercing violet eyes looking straight at her from the very back of the room, feeling as if they were piercing her right in the gut.

He had shown up. She had been the one to invite him, after all, but she’d be lying if she said a part of her hadn’t wanted him to come simply to avoid having to talk to him at all. How do you pick back up where you left off with your best friend when you hadn’t talked to them in two years?

She already had to pace the apartment for an hour or so as she tried to send the text to him in the first place to let him know, to get the wording and the tone right, to hope to every god known to man that he still had the same number. To hope that he would come at all. She kept it clinical, at the end of the day.

“Hi there, Rhysand. I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to let you know that my dad passed away a few days ago.

The funeral is next week to the day at 11:00am if you’d like to attend and pay your respects. Prythian Funeral Home.

I hope you’re well.”

It was anxiety-inducing enough to have sent the text in the first place that she hadn’t even bothered to see if Rhys had replied. Instead, Feyre threw herself into funeral preparations - inviting all of her and her sisters’ close friends who had known him and any of his previous business associates he had left. It didn’t fill the room, but it made it feel less pathetic than just the three of them, and that’s all that mattered to them.

The whole time Feyre was up there, it was a pointed effort not to meet Rhys’ eyes. If she did, she felt like she was going to break. So her eyes kept flickering around the room. From Cassian to Amren, from Vassa to Lucien, to anyone but him. Him in his immaculate dress shirt and perfectly tailored trousers, his artfully arranged raven-black hair and his hands adorned in a smattering of silver bands he fiddled with out of the corner of her eye.

The rest of the service after that was a blur. Most people had cleared out of the funeral home to head to Elain’s for the wake - she had tried to offer to cook for everyone, but Feyre and Nesta insisted on catering as Elain had already done so much, was always doing so much. She was already letting Feyre live with her for the time being and it made her feel awful asking for much else. Feyre opted to linger behind, talking to almost each and every person who had come. She gathered up the flowers, made sure that they knew exactly which plot to bury him in - right with their mother - and that there was nothing else to be tended to. Really, she was using it as an escape and a moment to breathe. A moment to delay the inevitable.

And yet, Rhys had always had impeccable timing for better or worse. Today was no different.

He caught her sitting outside on the concrete steps of the funeral home, gazing listlessly into the near-empty parking lot. She didn’t turn to meet his eyes, couldn’t bear it, but was so acutely aware as he sat down on the steps with her. Rhys pressed his side into the wall, Feyre pressing into the railing, a gap that lingered heavily between them. Two years of self-imposed exile that she couldn’t help but feel ashamed about, and this is what it amounted to - two people who knew each other so deeply pretending like they barely knew anything anymore on the steps in a town they’d both called home. She could hear Rhys inhale, ready to break the silence, but she raced to go first. She was the one who had pushed him out in the first place, it was only fair that she had to be the one to try and let him back in.

“Thanks for coming today. You didn’t have to.” Feyre’s eyes were trained firmly on her hands folded into her lap. She could hear his breath hitch slightly, whether it was in relief or confusion or something else, she couldn’t tell.

“Of course I had to. Even if he wasn’t always the most… present person. He was still like a father to me. Still let me in his home, eat his food, stay over. It wouldn’t be right to miss it.” Rhys’ eyes flicked up to Feyre’s face and she could feel them practically burning a hole in her temple, her cheek, her eyes, everywhere she knew he was observing. Trying to get a read on her, trying to ask without being demanding.

“That… means a lot, Rhys. I know it’s been a while.”

A dry laugh escaped him. “Yeah, that’s, uh, that’s an understatement. But I can’t blame you for it.”

Feyre’s heart twisted in guilt and hurt at that. She deserved it - while he had been the one to kiss her, she had been the one to force that distance no matter how much she just wanted her best friend back. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that Rhys would have probably been in a similar way. A heavy sigh passed her lips, turning her head to finally face him properly after two long years apart. He was very much the same, yet different. The same slant of his jaw, the same expressions she had known since she was young. But he was slightly taller, hints of tattoos peeking out beneath the collar of his shirt, a mild weariness about him that wasn’t there before. Maybe it had been hidden by his confidence the last time she saw him. It didn’t matter now - all that mattered was that he had shown up.

“Yeah, well… You weren’t the only one that fucked up that day. Don’t shoulder all of that on your own. God knows we’ve all made enough mistakes over the course of our lives, can’t keep beating yourself up for every slight you’ve made.” Not that it was going to stop her from beating herself up about it, but Rhys didn’t need to hear that part.

“I don’t know, I feel like I fucked up pretty bad. Lost my best friend a couple of years ago because I wanted to make things easier for her. Read the room wrong and ended up hurting her instead, it’s probably one of the biggest regrets I’ve ever had.” He turned his head to meet her gaze, eyes full of hurt and regret, yet an ever-present hope lingered behind them regardless. Feyre struggled to keep looking at him without faltering from nerves.

“What a coincidence, I lost my best friend a couple of years ago, too,” Feyre said, a dry chuckle escaping her. “I thought I knew exactly how my life should go and that he was a little bit insane. Pressure from my fiance didn’t help, so I iced him out and now I’m basically at rock bottom. I miss him a lot, but I don’t know if I can get him back. I hurt him pretty badly.”

“Feyre, I-”

“Rhys, if you’re about to apologise, I don’t want you to because you shouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to be friends or didn’t ever want to see me again after this-”

Before she could continue, Rhys’ hand darted out to grab a hold of both of her own, folded in her lap anxiously until he had bridged the gap between them.

“Feyre, I can’t imagine a world where we’re not in each other’s lives. Living through it was hell, and I’d rather die than experience that again.”

She could feel the dam of emotions she’d been holding inside of her heart begin to crack, tears welling up until they spilled over her cheeks and Rhysand was pulling her into his side, legs pressed together as they gave each other the first hug they’d shared in two whole years. Feyre’s arms squeezed around his waist like her life depended on it, his arms wrapped around hers like a comforting blanket. Like home.

“I missed you so fucking much, Rhys. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to apologise right now, neither are you.” Amusement had snuck into Rhys’ voice, and despite her tears and sniffles she couldn’t help but laugh a little. As her head moved to his shoulder, he moved his own head to rest on hers. Relief and catharsis thrummed through her veins all the way through to her toes.

“God, we’re fucking idiots. I can’t believe we let this go on for so long.”

“Tell me about it. I have no fucking clue what you’ve even been up to for the past two years.”

Feyre broke from the hug, wiping at her eyes with a small frown on her face as she sat up. “Wait, not even from Mor or anybody else..?”

“Not a peep. You said you wanted space, so I tried to respect your privacy.”

She couldn’t help but wheeze dryly a little at that. “So you don’t know? NIce of you to be so chivalrous, but even I’m surprised this didn’t get back to you. Fucking hell, okay.”

Confusion contorted Rhys’s features. “Feyre, I can’t emphasise enough how much I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A tense moment of silence passed between them, Feyre taking a breath as she let the pause hang in the air for just a moment.

“...Tamlin and I split up. Probably about six months ago, now. Wasn’t exactly amicable to say the least.”

His hand came to rest on her shoulder softly. “Oh Feyre, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it. I know how much everyone else couldn’t stand him.”

“I mean… Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy. Run me through the past two years, tell me how this happened. We have a lot to catch up on anyway, right?”

“That's true. Were you after the full spiel or the summarised version?” She laughed slightly as she turned to him with a small smile. It was nice to be able to sit with him again, feeling at ease for the first time in a long while.

“Whatever you're willing to give me.”

“Well,” Feyre started dramatically, placing her hand over his on his knee. “About six months after we saw each other last, Tamlin and I ended up moving to Seattle so he could do… Business bullshit, I don't know. He very deliberately never involved me in the brewery stuff more than I needed to be, which was usually just as a pretty little toy. I mean, at the time I felt so special, y'know? All these trips, the move, the dresses. Really, it was the smaller things that got me - the food, the comfort. Things that I had to work for before. He told me so many wonderful things and that I was soooo perfect, so it was easy enough to fall into.

“It was kind of a whole ‘boiling a frog’ situation. He would make me feel so safe and loved before slowly coaxing me to do different stuff. Tamlin certainly didn't like me talking to you before all of this.”

“Of course, it's hard not to be intimidated by all this latent natural charm.” Rhys postured, fussing with his collar in a flair of dramatics that made the both of them giggle like they were back to being kids again.

“Of course! But, haha, he definitely wasn't enthused. So he let up for a bit after that. But soon it was getting me to dress up a little more each and every day, even when I was ducking out to get groceries or something. Phasing out things that we had in the pantry or the fridge - snacks would go missing, judging looks, shit like that. Then about a year ago we moved. It got worse after that.

“Literally the only people I knew after we moved were Tamlin and Lucien. Even Lucien didn't wanna be around him more than he had to by the end of things because it was getting unbearable. He could dress how he wanted, eat how he wanted, act how he wanted. He'd be perfectly content. But the minute I questioned things, it was like a fucking heel turn. Sometimes asking who he was on the phone with prompted him to start blaming all his problems on me. Telling me I was nothing but a piece of shit who made him feel depressed and awful. Every time I stepped out of line in his eyes he just got… angrier. Never hit me or anything, but fuck, I think he got close some days.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder tug her in close once more - the warm tears spilled reluctantly down her cheeks, though she'd be lying if she said she was surprised she was crying about it. The only other person who had heard about it until now was the therapist Lucien and her sisters had all pitched in to get her a few sessions with - she didn’t end up sticking with them, though. Not that Feyre hadn’t appreciated the gesture, but she didn’t feel quite ready. But with Rhys? She couldn’t help but spill her guts bare. She gently wiped at her eyes, taking a heavy breath before resuming.

“Anyways, uh… Finally got sick of it a little while after trying to cover up some of the mirrors in the house. I wasn’t painting or drawing anymore, he said that it was a dumb hobby and that it was beneath me. Didn’t have any hobbies anymore, really. No job, either. My entire wardrobe was full of these designer labels and uncomfortable dresses - piles of heels and bags and accessories. Gaudy, flashy jewelry as far as the eye could see. I was so gaunt, I didn’t have any life left in me. I dressed how he wanted, looked how he wanted, talked how he wanted, ate how he wanted. Thought how he wanted me to as well, that I wasn’t worth anything unless I was by his side,” She scoffed slightly, looking up at the sky a little as her head came to rest on Rhysand’s shoulder.

“But I had a kind of lucid moment where I was covering up those mirrors, not wanting to even be here anymore where I was just like, what am I even doing here? I was in such a gilded fucking cage and so sick of it. Tamlin was on one of his rare solo trips at the time so I just… left. Texted Lucien - he’d seen me deteriorating for a while and tried to get me to see things differently before, but it was hard when I was so isolated, y’know? He helped me get all my shit out. Left Tamlin with nothing but a note and that ugly fucking ring. Blocked him on everything. Let Nesta and Elain know, and the rest is history. Been living with Elain back in Prythian since, teaching nighttime painting classes and working as a cashier to try and save up enough money to move out.” Feyre sniffled a little before putting a big smile on her face and turning to Rhys, bringing her hands under her chin to frame it in an effort to lighten the heavy atmosphere. If she didn’t try to take it at least a little less seriously, then she was just going to get in her head about the whole situation all over again, and that’s the last thing she wanted. Not when she had come so far already.

“Shit, Feyre… Can’t say I can beat that in terms of a one-eighty.” Rhys smiled at her slightly, a smidge of sadness mixed with a dose of pride in his stare. She let out a little laugh in turn.

“Hey, go big or go home, right?”

“You never did anything half-assed, that’s for sure.” Rhys took her hand resting upon his knee into both of his, squeezing gently. “I’m just glad you’re happier. That you’re safe. We have plenty of time for all of that ‘I told you so’ type of shit later.”

Feyre simply rolled her eyes, nudging his side with her own. “Thanks, Rhys. But what about you? I can’t just dump all of the ways my life temporarily turned into a tire fire only to not hear about you in return.”

Rhys shuffled a little uncomfortably beside her - he always had trouble when the focus shifted to him in anything more than a surface level, necessary capacity. It was his turn to sigh heavily, looking down at the ground. His head tilted to rest on top of hers, like not a second had passed between when they had been thick as thieves up to now.

“Well, it’s kind of weird. I mean, I’ve done a lot but at the same time not a lot has changed. I’m still close with everybody, especially Cass and Az, but I know that wouldn’t surprise anybody.”

Feyre chuckled slightly. “Well duh, you guys are brothers at this point. It’d be weirder if you weren’t still close.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the two paused for a moment. There was a sentence unspoken between them that they both knew deep in their bones, hanging in the air like a sword of Damocles - it wouldn’t have been as weird as when the two of them stopped talking. But neither of them needed to tell the other that. That fact was as true as the sky being blue or the grass being green. Rhys broke the tension first, not wanting to linger on it any longer than the two of them had to.

“I ended up leaving Prythian about a year ago, though. Dad had died - he hadn’t been in good health for a while, so nobody was surprised. I finally fully inherited the business instead of just being a figurehead beneath him, but I never really had any interest in it. I did well in my business degree but it just… never quite clicked with me the way I think he hoped it would. It wasn’t exactly a huge emotional loss to me when he went. Ended up selling the whole thing and moving to New York, actually.”

“Makes sense - you always struck me as a city guy.”

“What can I say? I have very particular taste.” The two chuckled in tandem, the warmth of it rumbling through Feyre’s throat and chest.

“But anyway, I actually ended up putting my degree to use and started my own business. I picked up tailoring and design from Mom way back when and I always enjoyed it, so why not, right? It felt good - feels good - to still have that connection to her. Started out just selling stuff online before I moved into some actual brick and mortar stores. There’s not a lot, but they’re going well at least.”

Feyre sat up, surprise and delight written all over her face at the news. “Holy shit, that’s amazing Rhys! I’m so proud of you - ‘not much has changed’ my ass! You’re like a big business mogul now.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows at her. “Feyre, I’m literally just a small business owner.” “Yeah, now, but you’ve always been ambitious. You’re gonna be some thriving CEO type in no time.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Archeron.” Rhys smirked, mussing up Feyre’s hair a little while taking care to make sure the silver rings he wore didn’t catch in the strands. She didn’t hesitate to mess his own hair up in return, mock offense spreading over his features before melting into a laugh.

“But seriously, I meant it when I said not much has changed, in a way. I live in a new place now and I’ve got a business going, but I still talk to the same people. I don’t go out much, I’m a pretty big homebody unless it’s for any of our inner circle. It all feels so… the same. But not, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.” With that, Feyre pushed up and off of the stairs, brushing down the back of her dress and cardigan to neaten them up as she stood. She turned to Rhys, reaching a hand out to help him up. It was a handy excuse to touch him again anyway, to feel some of the closeness she had been missing for so long.

Sitting and talking with Rhys so casually felt like a puzzle piece she didn’t entirely realise had gone missing clicked back into place. Everything felt so right and comfortable - like her world had been spinning on a slightly wrong angle, only to be righted with a gentle touch again. He took the hand she offered as he stood up - not that he needed the help. Rhys looked down at her with something that Feyre couldn’t quite pick, something between reverence and relief. She would take either. It didn’t matter so long as they could be in each other’s lives again.

“C’mon, we should head to the wake. If we’re overly late, I think Nesta might lose it a little.” Feyre cocked her head in the direction of her car, a small black thing in the back corner of the parking lot.

“...As in, we go to the wake together?” He almost looked like a lost puppy as he posed the question. Feyre rolled her eyes with a little smile and dragged him by the arm towards her car.

“No shit. You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you. I’m not gonna have you wasting money on an Uber when we could spend more time catching up on the way there. If I can’t spend my days beating myself up for shutting you out, then I can at least make the most of letting you back in.”

Rhys nodded almost dumbly as he climbed into the passenger seat, looking over at Feyre as the two buckled themselves into the car.

“...I’d really love that, Feyre. I’ve missed you too.”

The feeling that washed over Feyre’s bones was something that she didn’t think could ever be beat - that things would work out and be okay after all, in the end.

#feysand #rhysand x feyre archeron #fanfiction #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar #acotar fanfiction #friends to lovers

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