#I had some things I wanted to adjust in the first few pages and at some point in the drafting phase | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

velvetures · 9 months

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Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

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seullovesme · 3 months

Text

cockwarming w/ irene bae

pairing ⥬ g!p!irene x reader

genre ⥬ smut

warnings ⥬ sex, slight innocence kink

(nsfw under the cut btw)

just cuddling with irene, listening to her rambling away about her day and how much fun she had because she knows you'll listen to her even if it was nonsense. you discover her love for sudoku and you ask if she could do some with you.

she gets excited and brings out the sudoku book she started, telling you about how easy the first few levels were for her, trying her best to impress you which worked. she begins doing her thing as you compliment her, saying that you're so proud of your smart girl.

but because your girl is skilled, she finished the entire book with some of your help. she's so happy and wishes that you could do more together. this obviously results in you buying a ton of sudoku books because what the bae wants, the bae gets!

irene seated at her desk located in your room, innocently going through her new sudoku book in her sweats with a thin long-sleeve shirt on, when you spot her. she's adorable and you couldn't just stand and admire from afar.

you sit on her lap facing the desk and kiss her cheek, telling her to continue playing. she complies and goes back to filling the boxes with their designated numbers though she's curious on what you're planning to do.

you pull her sweats to her knees, shushing her when she gasped, telling her to put all of her focus on her game. she was trying to stay focused, but your hand on her now hard cock was definitely not helping in the slightest. she stopped and put down her pen when you began to sink down on her, grabbing your waist to guide you.

she was drowning in pleasure from feeling your velvety walls engulf her whole length like it was nothing, and she couldn't hold in her pretty sounds 😵‍💫😵‍💫

you took her hands off of you and put them onto the table. "come on bae... be a good girl and finish up your game. i told you to focus on it didn't i?" you shifted a little to adjust your sitting position, making the sensitive girl under you whimper. she can only obey your command as she took the pen and studied the puzzle carefully, trying to work as fast as she could.

despite her efforts, you could tell she was working slower than she normally was, only spotting a few mistakes that she had made due to her being so distracted. it was cute hearing her struggle to refrain from moving around.

eventually, she completed the whole board and hugged your back, hoping you'd allow her to start railing the shit out of you. her hopes couldn't get very high as you interrupted her thoughts.

"good job! shall we start another?" you grinned and flipped the page, revealing a new one for her to do.

sorry it took a while to post i didnt realize i hit save to drafts instead of post LMFAO also i didnt edit 😞

#seullovesme » posted!#irene x reader #bae joohyun x fem reader #bae joohyun x reader #joohyun x reader #irene fic #irene bae #bae irene #red velvet smut #red velvet joohyun #irene smut #red velvet x female reader #red velvet x reader #g!p irene #kpop gg #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines

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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

Text

Harmony || CL16

Summary: Being a musician isn't the easiest way to make ends meet. Aside from being in the local orchestra, you balance being a tutor and a tuner - one Charles hires to tune his piano. Warnings: none, fluffy WC: 1.2k F1 Masterlist

Of course the city would be busy when you were running late. As much as you might have tried to run, or at least power walk, you didn’t want to damage the precious cargo you were carrying. You managed to make up some time at the sacrifice of your lungs and you were still recovering when you reached the address of your last appointment.

“Sorry I’m late, Mr Leclerc, my violin lesson ran over.”

“That’s okay, and it’s just Charles,” he corrected as he opened his door wider for you to enter his home. It was easy to see where you were going to be working so you headed straight to the upright piano in the light and airy living room. After placing your violin case on the floor beside his coffee table you shrugged off your backpack and opened your tool kit.

“May I?” you asked as you reached for the memorabilia balanced on the top you needed access to.

“Oh, right, sorry.” He rolled his eyes at himself for not preparing the piano for your arrival and helped you clear it off. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you, Mr- I mean Charles.” You opened the top lid before removing the front panel and sat down on the bench. First you tested the keys and pedals to see if any were sticky but they were in good condition, and you listened to each key to determine how much work was needed.

“How long have you been learning to play the violin?”

You looked away from the keys as Charles took a seat on the sofa near your instrument. “Oh, no, I teach it. Well, I suppose I am still learning, because there is always room to improve, but my lesson was with a student.”

“So violin tutor and piano tuner,” he said with an impressed nod. “That is quite the niche market.”

“Not as niche as yours,” you pointed out as you pulled a tuning fork out of your tool kit. “There are certainly more than 20 of us in the world.”

The racer cracked a smile that was quite disarming and you had to return to your work as your cheeks warned. “When was she last tuned?”

He chuckled nervously and you winced before he even answered. “When I bought it, two and a half years ago.”

You suppressed the sigh that built and grabbed the adjuster to start moving all the keys up in pitch. “Without regular tuning, you’ll likely find she needs fine tuning again in a few weeks.”

Charles smiled sheepishly and nodded. A comfortable silence fell as you continued your work, moving with confidence through the motions until you were satisfied the piano sounded perfect. Replacing the front panel and closing the top, you took a seat again for the final test. There was already a page of sheet music on the stand so you placed your tablet next to it and opened the app that picked up notes and confirmed if they were in tune or not.

Your eyes scanned the sheet and you heard the melody in your head before you let it flow into your fingers that started their graceful dance across the keys. One page was more than enough to check your work was done but you were a little disappointed that you weren’t able to hear the remainder of the song as you closed the lid.

“I haven’t heard this before,” you said as you picked up the sheet but it had no markings on it. “Who is the artist?”

Charles rose from the sofa and took the page with pink cheeks. “I, uh, I wrote it.”

“It’s beautiful, and sad.” He frowned at the strange compliment and looked away before you placed your hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with sad music. It is meant to be a way of expressing oneself so it doesn’t fester inside. I tell my students it is a good thing.”

His frown softened and his grip on the paper eased before he reached past you to place it back on the stand. “I wanted to add some other instruments once I recorded it, but I wasn’t sure which ones.”

You nodded to yourself as you replayed the sonata in your head, your fingers drawing invisible notes that could accompany the melody. “Hmm, I think I can help…if you want?”

“Please,” he said as he watched you grab your violin case and unlock it. The lid opened with a creak and his eyes widened as he saw the logo for the Monegasque Royal Orchestra in the velvet lining. “You play for the orchestra?”

“Second chair,” you hummed with a proud smile. “We are playing for Prince Albert’s birthday this weekend.”

“I guess I will see you there.”

Of course he would have an invitation to the Prince’s birthday, all the important people in the principality would be there. “That’s one way to make me nervous. I’ll try not to mess up for you.”

“I think you’ll be great,” he said with a grin as he sat at the edge of the bench and watched you raise the delicate violin to your neck.

“Do you want to play and I will join you?”

“Uh, sure.” He was the one who seemed nervous now and he cleared his throat as he turned on the bench seat, his toes hovering over the pedals. “Here we go, I guess.”

His long fingers were elegant and his wrists remained loose as he began to play. You let the first eight bars open before you closed your eyes and drew your bow across the strings in harmony to him. Charles stumbled over the key as the higher octave caught him by surprise but he recovered with a quiet apology and soon the piece rose into an emotive crescendo that had your chest aching before the last note died out.

You let your arm relax and the warmth from the rosewood rest cooled on your skin as you lowered the bow and violin to your sides.

“That was…incredible,” he said as he turned in his seat.

“You are a very talented man, Mr Leclerc,” you said as you carefully laid the violin back into the bracket and locked it up. “A lot of people can play the piano but very few have the creativity to write their own music.”

His blush spread from his cheeks to his neck and he fidgeted with the ring on his finger. “Thank you, for tuning my piano and playing with me.”

“It was a pleasure.” You packed up your tools and shoved them into your backpack before picking up the violin case and looking at the door. “I hope you enjoy the concert.”

“I’m sure I will,” he said with a genuine smile as he walked with you to the entrance way. “Maybe we can have a drink together afterwards?”

You clutched the handle of the case tighter and tried to control your excitement with a small nod, but your smile was uncontrollable and bright. “I would like that.”

“I’ll see you Saturday.”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine

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say-al0e · 19 days

Text

Body Electric

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Steve has never lived in a home full of noise but he likes to think he'd enjoy spending the rest of his life in one. (AKA Steve Harrington is soft and proposes.) | Ft. Anon Request: "Is that my shirt?" + "We should get married." "Funny." "I'm not joking." (Listen, when I took the requests, I intended to stick to them, even if it's been like two years.) Warnings: Mentions of the Upside Down, some anxiety. Nothing too graphic or heavy. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader (I think it might actually be GN!Reader) Word Count: 2.7k

Faint sounds of life - rain pattering against the windows, falling in sheets; a car starting in the parking lot; music, pouring from a neighbor’s stereo and bleeding through the thin walls; a laugh track, the theme tune to some primetime television show from the apartment next door - never left much room for silence in the small apartment Steve shared with you.

If you listened, waited a few moments with bated breath, you could hear the sounds of a dozen lives being lived without ever leaving the comfort of your own home. It was strange, especially for him, as he’d spent much of his life living in silence.

There were stretches of his memory, days at a time he could recount passing without hearing even the faintest sound of life from another being. Now, nearly every moment was filled with some kind of sound; the noise of neighbors, the noise of the city, the noise of you.

It was new, completely and utterly foreign, but in no way unwelcome.

Steve noticed it before you did. You grew up in a house full of noise; parents who cut on the radio first thing in the morning, just to hear the news, and siblings whose vocabulary lacked the word quiet. He found it harder to allow it all to fade into the background and still startled at the occasional slamming door. Whereas you adjusted quickly, Steve still heard every minute noise just as clearly as he had that first night.

A small part of him - that same part that hoped he never got used to the giddy feeling that still bubbled in the pit of his stomach every time you smiled at him, eyes glittering with a soft fondness he’d never tire of - hoped he would never adjust.

In addition to the noise of your neighbors, the world carrying on around you, Steve could clearly hear you.

The quiet humming in the morning as you dressed for class or work, usually some tune that only existed in your head; the clink of dishes as you made coffee for the both of you, his just the way he’d always liked; the sound of your voice, echoing over the shower as you danced in the bathroom; your soft breathing, quiet hums of content with each plot twist; the rustle of paper, pages flipping as you spent your night reading.

Steve was able to hear each sound you made, no matter how quiet, and reveled in the noise.

Every moment that he spent with you, in the small apartment surrounded by a dozen other lives, was one he was grateful for. And though the television played low in the background, volume never raising much higher out of respect for your neighbors - something he’d never had to consider before, something that secretly made him smile - he couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to watch. There’d been a reason he wanted it on, but you were more interesting, anyway.

He rested with his head on your lap, cradled by the plush of your thighs, and watched as you flipped through the yellowed pages of a book you’d picked up earlier in the week. He couldn’t read the title - it was upside down and the spine was cracked, the perks of choosing well-loved secondhand books - but you were enamored and that was enough for him. It would soon be added to the little shelf in the corner of the living room, already overflowing with titles you devoured steadily, but the realization only made him smile as your lips pursed in concentration.

There were moments Steve hated interrupting, blissful seconds where the weight of the world no longer rested on your shoulders. Others, however, he just couldn’t help himself. As happy as he was for you both to exist in your own worlds, there were moments he was desperate to recapture your attention and remind yourself that you were his.

As such, he felt little guilt as he shifted and turned his full attention to you.

Soft fingers gripped the hem of your shirt, rubbed at the worn cotton idly, and Steve’s warm brown eyes met yours when you spared him a moment of attention. “Is that my shirt?”

“Our shirt.” Steve laughed, easily amused by the same reply you’d been giving him for years, any time he pointed out you wearing his clothes. “I think I’m allowed to wear it. We both graduated from Hawkins High,” you reminded him - as if he needed it. He regularly regretted not meeting you sooner, not paying attention to you when you both roamed the halls of Hawkins High.

Either way, he was glad that he managed to find his way to you in the end.

“Sure,” he agreed easily, happily. “But you could wear your own. I saw another gym shirt in the dresser. What’re you reading?”

“Not as soft as yours,” you reasoned, as if it made perfect sense. And who was he to argue? He would’ve happily given up his shirts if it meant seeing you like this - soft, relaxed, content. Before he could even consider mentioning that, making the moment sappy, you hummed. “I Sing the Body Electric!. It’s a bunch of short stories,” you explained, dropping one hand to card through his hair, tough light as you worked your fingers through the freshly washed strands. “There’s one, the same title as the book, that was a Twilight Zone episode. I think you’d like it.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled. He’d never much cared for science fiction, despite your love for it, and always felt a little left out when you and Eddie began your deep dives into the meaning of episodes. He’d never managed to make it all the way through an episode and was skeptical as he asked, “What makes you think that?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “it’s just nice. It’s about a family. After the mom dies, they build this robot grandma. The daughter hates her, hates everyone because she thinks her mom left her, and refuses to love her. Then, the grandma saves her. It seems like she’s dead but she comes back and the little girl realizes she can’t leave her so she starts loving again.”

“Nice?” Steve tipped his head to get a better look at you, brows furrowed. “Jesus, babe, that sounds kind of awful. Like, horror movie stuff.” His face scrunched as he attempted to think, considering the few horror movies he’d seen and managed to retain. “Oh, like that one with the guy who puts people in his basement,” he exclaimed.

“There’s a bunch of horror movies where a guy puts people in his basement.” When Steve raised his brows, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Point made,” you conceded. “But, still. It’s a bad description, maybe. It’s, like,” you paused for a moment, thumb marking your place in the book as you considered. “You go through a lot of shit and build up these walls because you’ve been hurt. Then someone comes in, goes through it all with you, and starts to chip away at the walls. Then, they get hurt and you start to realize what they mean to you. And when they come back to you, it makes you realize that you don’t want to deal with life without them. It’s, like, poetic, or something.”

“Poetic,” Steve mumbled, agreeable. His entire body warmed at the sentiment, even as he teasingly asked, “Are you reading into it?”

“I could be.” Your fingers continued to card through his hair, touch gentle as his gaze grew softer. “We’ve been through a lot of shit together, Harrington,” you reminded him, though there was no need. He remembered every moment vividly. “You didn’t believe in love anymore and I didn’t like you very much until you saved me from becoming demodog food. Guess it’s nice to think that even with all the shit we went through, something good came of it.”

Steve knew that nostalgia wan’t the right word, not when considering the hell Hawkins put you through. But he fond himself grateful for it, just the same. When he considered his life, where he might be if he’d never stumbled upon scenes out of his worst nightmares, he wondered if he’d have the life loved so much without the hell you both went through.

As much as you teased him for being a secret romantic, he liked to think he would. In any universe, in any timeline, he liked to think he would’ve found you. Eventually, anyway.

That was a declaration he’d made before, under the cover of darkness after a nightmare or two, and he knew you felt the same. He also knew that the moment wasn’t right, not when you were looking down with a soft smile reserved just for him.

So, instead of declaring that you were the best thing he’d ever been lucky enough to find, he softly urged, “Read to me.”

Despite your rumination on why he’d enjoy the book, you knew Steve. Science fiction wasn’t his favorite and he’d likely be out in a matter of moments. He could see the surprise, your brows winging up, as you asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he encouraged as he brushed his fingers over your exposed thigh. “There’s nothing good on,” he teased, though you both knew he’d settled onto the couch with the intention of watching something or other. “Might as well.”

Whatever it was he’d planned on watching was completely lost, entirely out of mind - and he knew he’d only remember what it was when someone inevitably asked him what he thought of it. There wasn’t a single moment of hesitation as he turned off the television, plunging the apartment into the only sort of quiet you could get, and glanced up at you expectantly.

As you’d done a hundred times before, you picked a page and started to read. The story itself was never very important. Steve was used to being dropped into the middle of your favorite books, just because he wanted to hear your voice.

There were nights where you read him Tolkien, Bradbury, Orwell, and a plethora of others he could never name. There was science fiction and fantasy, romance and mystery, fiction and non. He’d heard at least a portion of nearly every book on the shelf because on the nights when there was nothing on, when the anxiety you both learned to live with settled a little too heavy on his chest, when he just wanted to be selfish and drown himself in your attention, you read to him. Your voice filled the apartment, soft and warm as you read from another short story.

Steve tried to pay attention to the words. He wanted to be able to discuss it with you, to have the kinds of conversations you had with Robin or with Eddie about symbolism and meaning, but he found his attention drifting.

It wasn’t that he had no interest. Though he couldn’t discuss relevant social themes in The Twilight Zone or which horror franchise was better, he wanted nothing more than to hear your opinion on the matter. He’d never read Bradbury on his own but usually found himself enthralled when you read it to him.

All he wanted was to live in that moment forever. To lie there, in the safety and comfort of your shared apartment with your voice washing over him; he was certain that there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

The thought had plagued him for month - years, really, as he’d known you were the one the moment you followed him into the depths of hell to protect a ragtag group of children - but marriage was always a fantasy. The moment hadn’t been right. He’d rehearsed the speech a dozen times, pictured what the ring might look like, where he might take you to pop the question.

It was almost agonizing, wondering when the perfect moment might strike, when you would both be ready to step into the future. But he realized that there was nothing technically “perfect” in your lives. From the moment you met, life was chaos and that was part of the appeal.

There would never be a perfect moment but he knew that nothing would feel as right as that moment, lying on the couch, with your fingers tangled in his hair as you lounged in his stolen gym shirt.

Without allowing himself to think too hard, he hummed, “We should get married.”

The words were spoken casually, as if he were commenting on the weather or the story you were reading to him. It was easy, completely concealed the heavy thud of his heart and the overwhelming noise blaring in his mind - the little voice yelling that he should’ve waited, he should’ve made it perfect.

For a brief moment, your fingers stilled in his hair. It wasn’t the first time Steve broached the subject, however, it was the first time he phrased it that way. Like he was looking for an answer, a reply, a decision.

Then, you continued carding through the soft strands as you hummed. “Funny.”

“I’m not joking.” He lifted a hand, carefully removed yours from his hair, before he sat up and turned to face you. The look on your face was nearly unreadable, though Steve had spent years practicing. He could see a slight apprehension - not at the idea; he knew you would marry him in a heartbeat, that you’d happily spend the rest of your life with him - and a hint of glimmering excitement, though it was overshadowed by an emotion he couldn’t place. Still, he carried on. “I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“Steve.” The sigh of his name was soft, breathless, and in it he could detect the emotion that darkened your eyes. It was nerves, a residual unease - fear that life was going to well, anything more might leave you both scrambling from long-gone monsters once more.

“I know,” he assured you, voice just as soft as your own - mindful, of your feelings and of the privacy you no longer had. This was a moment for you, to be shared only between the inhabitants of the small apartment, and he was careful to keep quiet as he shifted closer and reached for your hand. “It’s weird,” he began, smiling as he met your eyes. “Some days, I wake up and I wait a few minutes, just to be sure I’m not still in Hawkins. I’m afraid that the last few years have been a dream, that I’m going to get a call any minute that the kids found something completely insane and we’re going to be running for our lives again. But I’m not. It’s over. We’re here and it’s totally scary, thinking that we could be happy, but we could. We could elope,” he offered, smile growing a touch wider when you exhaled and squeezed his hand tight.

“You don’t want a big wedding?” You’d never talked details, only agreed under the cover of soft moonlight that you wanted to be married, that your futures were thoroughly intertwined. “Wear a fancy tux, eat stupidly expensive cake, dance all night?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t really care about any of that,” he admitted. “The important thing is that it’s us. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I’ve known that for a long time. We could go to the courthouse,” he offered, grinning when you laughed. “Robin and Eddie are in this building, the kids have been begging for an excuse to come visit. Us and them, that’s all that matters, right?”

The ragtag family the pair of you had created, a lifelong bond built on a difficult experience, was, indeed, all you needed. Neither of you wanted much more than to spend the rest of your lives together, to be happy and content and enjoy the life you built, so you nodded.

“Yeah,” you agreed, smile mirroring his own as you squeezed his hand. “You’re right. Let’s get married.”

Years ago, neither of you could’ve imagined your future with any degree of accuracy. Living in a small apartment, far from Hawkins and surrounded by the noise of life carrying on, was not something either of you expected. Even less expected was falling in love with one another.

But now that you’d made it, a proposal sealed with a soft kiss and a giddy excitement to look for rings the very next day - after making the call to rally the troops - neither of you could imagine a more perfect future.

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I almost got stuck in an elevator today. As someone afraid of elevators, it was pretty terrifying. 0/10, do not recommend.

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#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #v's fics

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luvkyu · 2 months

Text

and i ( zhang hao )

zhang hao x male reader

hao is slightly obsessed with another violinist

content : 1.7k words, fluff, violinist!hao x violinist!reader, music terms, v shy hao, mention of vom!t ( just used as exaggeration )

"make sure you go into a heavier crescendo here, okay? this is the biggest climax of the song."

zhang hao nodded sheepishly. it was hard to stay focused on his violin when his mentor was so attractive. especially while sitting right beside him.

"i think a little more vibrato here would be good too, but you can worry more about the actual notes for now if you like," y/n said with a soft smile as he pointed to the sheet music. he could tell hao was nervous, so he was trying his best to keep a light hearted atmosphere.

"it's okay, i can do the vibrato," hao assured.

y/n smiled and nodded. he liked how determined hao was.

"alright, let's run through it one more time and then we'll be done for the day," y/n said.

hao raised his violin back up, straight posture and impeccable bow hold. y/n smiled in approval before doing the same, the sounds of their strings soon filling the practice room.

hao was a second year in their performing arts college. y/n was a fourth year and a first chair violinist in the school's competitive chamber orchestra. the pair had met during hao's first year, but never exchanged more than a few words.

y/n spent a lot of his time helping struggling first and second years with adjusting to their harder music pieces, so when hao spoke up, y/n was happy to help. now they met about three times a week to practice, and hao just received new sheet music that was a complete eyesore.

"good, that was really good," y/n praised happily. "how're you feeling with this piece so far?"

"it's fun, it's just a lot.." hao replied while loosening his bow. y/n nodded.

"yeah, i know. at least we got through the whole first page today! we'll work on the second one next time."

hao nodded as he began putting his things away. y/n gazed at him for a second, admiring how soft his personality seemed.

"y'know, you're a really good violinist, hao."

hao looked up at him with wide eyes. y/n was standing up now, violin hanging from his fingers and a gentle smile resting on his lips. hao could feel his cheeks turning red.

"..thank you. i really like playing, so that means a lot."

y/n nodded in return. "are you gonna try out for the chamber orchestra next year? they let some third years in."

hao thought about it for a moment. he carefully closed his violin case and latched the locks.

"mm.. i'm not sure."

"well," y/n began, "i think you should. if you want to, of course."

hao blushed and nodded in response. he wasn't really sure how to talk to y/n. not when he had the biggest crush on him known to mankind. he could feel y/n's eyes still on him, and for just a second, he wondered if y/n possibly liked him back.

"anyway, i'll see you back here monday?" y/n asked brightly. hao nodded, trying to give his best smile.

y/n hung his violin case over his shoulder and gathered his sheet music before waving goodbye. hao followed his exit, beginning to walk the opposite way to his dorm.

after finally getting back home, zhang hao threw his bags aside with a sigh. he gave more care to his violin case, setting it down gently. taerae stood in the small corner kitchen with a bowl of food in his hands.

"hey, hao. you good?"

"mm," hao mumbled. he went into the kitchen with the other and took a water from their fridge.

"y/n again?" taerae asked with a small chuckle.

hao nodded, "i'm so into him. i hate it."

"i don't know why you won't just ask him out."

hao shrugged. taerae set his bowl down as he gazed at his roommate. hao was so down bad, and taerae hated that he refused to do anything about it. he rolled his eyes and lightly slapped his hand on the counter.

"alright," taerae declared, "you're coming with me tonight. i'm going to his concert to write a review piece for the school paper, so i can get you a ticket too."

"there's a concert tonight??" hao asked with wide eyes.

"yeah, with the chamber orchestra. how did you not know that?"

"i have no idea. i guess i've been too preoccupied."

"sure, preoccupied with y/n."

"..shut up."

zhang hao was shivering. not because it was cold, but because he was nervous. more nervous than he'd ever been, even on his first day of college. he had a small bouquet of flowers in one hand, and his phone in the other with a deathly tight grip. he stood frozen for a moment as he stared at the large theater in front of him.

"hey, relax," taerae's voice cut through his anxiety, "it'll be okay."

hao nodded, trying to let a smile curve on his lips. he could barely see y/n on the stage, as he and taerae were still by the entrance. the orchestra was tuning and warming up, but he could make out y/n's styled hair and pretty smile from far away. he seemed to be talking to the violinist beside him about the sheet music. hao felt his heart swell. seeing y/n in his formal concert attire was almost too much for him.

"c'mon, let's get to our seats," taerae said eagerly. hao nodded again and followed his friend to a pair of seats that were much closer to the stage than he thought.

"oh, he's right in front!" taerae exclaimed quietly, pointing to y/n.

"mhm, he's first chair."

taerae looked over at hao as he looked at y/n.

"taerae?"

"hm?"

"he looks so good i'm gonna throw up," hao muttered. taerae rolled his eyes with a small snicker.

zhang hao took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. he laid the flowers in his lap before rubbing his palms together.

"wait, i think he sees us!" taerae enthused.

hao's head shot back up to find his crush's eyes resting on him. a smile quickly sprouted on y/n's face, keeping his gaze set on hao.

"oh, i hate him.. why is he staring at me like that.."

"cause he likes you, dumb fuck."

hao looked over at taerae with wide eyes before going back to y/n.

"maybe he's just surprised to see me. he didn't know i was coming so.."

taerae rolled his eyes. he watched hao muster up the courage to wave at y/n, the male sending a tiny wave back with his violin bow.

the lights soon died down as the audience began clapping and the conductor made his way out to join the orchestra. hao loved watching y/n become all serious as he lifted his violin to his chin in sync with the others.

throughout the pieces of music, taerae took notes for the school paper, while hao simply sat in awe. he'd seen them perform before, but it was like a new experience every time. the group was so professional and well put together. hao hoped he could be at such a level soon.

by the time it was over, zhang hao was even more of a nervous wreck. he waited with taerae by their seats, pretending to talk until y/n made his way over to them. he was currently traveling through the theater to talk with different people. hao assumed he was thanking people for coming and receiving congratulatory words in return - the usual etiquette that hao found quite tiresome if he was honest.

"hey guys," hao felt his heart quicken as he recognized y/n's voice, "thanks for coming. i didn't expect to see you, but i'm happy you're here."

taerae could tell that was directed more at zhang hao, but he didn't mind a bit. he and y/n were more like acquaintances than friends anyways.

"of course! you guys did really great. the review in the paper will be nothing but good things, i promise," taerae assured.

"thank you, i'm really glad you liked it!"

taerae smiled before turning to hao, "i'm gonna go wait in the car, okay?"

hao nodded in response. he could feel a chill run down his spine as he now faced y/n alone. he felt like melting on the spot. seeing y/n up close in his suit and tie made him feel weak.

"i've never seen you so dressed up. you look really amazing," y/n complimented, as if reading hao's mind.

"thank you," hao blushed, "you do too. i like your suit a lot."

y/n smiled and looked down at the clean black fabric.

"yeah? i always feel kinda weird when i dress up this nicely, but i'm glad someone else enjoys it."

hao nodded. oh, how he really did enjoy it.

"ah- these are for you," hao spoke up as he reached to the seat behind him where he'd left the flowers. y/n's jaw fell open just a bit, blushing a little himself now.

"really? you got me flowers?"

hao smiled and nodded. "you deserve them. i knew you'd be great tonight."

y/n couldn't help but chuckle at how cute the other was. he took the bouquet happily, looking at the flowers before turning his attention back to zhang hao.

"hey, are you doing anything else tonight?" y/n asked. hao's heart picked up once again. he shook his head while trying to hide his growing smile.

"then can i take you to dinner?"

hao almost couldn't believe it.

"really? you mean now?"

y/n nodded confidently, "we're already dressed up, i'm hungry, and i have the prettiest boy in the room to come with me. it's perfect."

hao looked down at his shoes, his smile too much for himself now.

"sure, i'd love to. let me just tell taerae?"

y/n nodded again, "of course. let's go." he offered his hand out, which hao took a bit shyly before he was led out of the theater.

#kpop x male reader #male reader #zb1 x male reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone #zb1 x reader #zb1 #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zhang hao x male reader

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drakulana · 2 months

Text

a little piece of heaven // trafalgar law x fem!reader

it's finally here! part 3 to the first spark series! i know its been a long time coming. be sure to read the first two parts first! i hope y'all enjoy!!! i've had lots of fun writing this!!

⟡ part 1, part 2 ⟡ content: mutual pining, slooooooow burn up until the end, fluff, suggestive ending ;) but nothing nsfw ⟡ wc: 8.5k

⋆⭒˚.⋆

She awoke with a warm feeling all around her. She hadn’t remembered laying down in bed. She was surrounded by a familiar scent. Pine, hints of amber, undernotes of antiseptic. A scent she had come to know as her captain’s. A scent she had only been this close to in her head. It was comforting, warm. The bed was bigger, and the blankets were heavier than her own. Wait, why am I in his bed? She reflected on the night before. She was so tired, running off of maybe a few minutes of sleep and caffeine. She had worked herself too hard, pushed herself a little further than her body liked. Law’s words from last night echoed back to her, reminding her of what had happened. “Y/n, you can go to bed, it’s almost 3:30.” He had told her with a sincere tone. She shook her head at him, “No, it’s okay, I can keep working,” she assured him before looking back down at her page.

She must’ve fallen asleep after the short interaction between them. She cringed internally from embarrassment. Falling asleep in the captain’s office while doing work, how could she let herself go so unchecked? She finally let herself take in the scene of the morning. The clock read 6:42am. She didn’t sleep for long, exhaustion still heavy in her limbs. She looked around the room, letting her eyes adjust to the light. Law’s bed was in the corner of the office, his desk opposite to it on the other side of the room. There were two book cases. One by his bed, the other by his desk. Both were organized, but the one next to the bed had comic books, and sci-fi novels. Something she didn’t think her captain would read, but she found it endearing to know that the cool and collected man had a nerdier side to him.

“You’re awake,” Law voiced without looking up from his book. “Sleep well?” He glanced up at her, scanning over her. She took in his appearance, he had dark bags under his eyes, the shadow of the brim of his hat casting down on them giving them a darker look. He was still in the same clothes from the night before, she doubted he had hardly moved from that spot at his desk. His golden eyes glinted with something she couldn’t quite make out. She tore her gaze away, fearing she had stared too long. “It was okay,” She answered him, getting up from her place on his bed. The atmosphere of the office was thick. There was an undeniable tension that floated around the two, coating the walls and everything around them in unspoken words. She made her way towards him, “I’m sorry I took your bed last night, that wasn’t my intention.” He let his gaze wander as she spoke. “I don’t mind it,” He assured her with his usually composed tone. He watched her smooth her hands down her rumpled up clothes, and run her fingers through her messy hair. Law felt a slight disappointment set in as she started to gather her things, but he never let his demeanor falter. She took one last look at Law with a tired sigh. “Thank you for letting me sleep here, but you look like you could use some sleep yourself, Captain. I’ll go so you can get at least a few hours.” With one last look, she exited his quarters and made her way towards her bunk. With her heart racing, she made her way down the seemingly never ending corridors of the Polar Tang. She longed to get into her own bed, under the comfort of her own blankets. She wanted to mull over her thoughts. Turning the corner, she finally saw the door to her bunk. Relief rushed through her, visibly relaxing her. That was until she heard her name being called from the other side of the corridor. She inwardly cursed before turning to meet her crewmate. It was Shachi. He looked panicked. Any ounce of resentment melted away from her as worry filled her. “What is it, Shachi?” She asked him, worry lacing her voice. His cheeks were flushed red like he had been running all over the ship. “Did you by chance load the fuel in the ship?” He asked her. She paled. “No, I thought Penguin did that.” She and Shachi shared an equally fretful look.

“Penguin thought you had done it,” Shachi’s voice shook with anxiety before Penguin ran down the hall. “Did you not get the fuel for the ship?” He asked her, almost trembling. She shook her head at him, sharing his anxious gaze. She sighed, “Was there none in backup?”

“Only enough to get us to the next port.”

“Shit.” She ran a hand through her hair, “Well somebody is going to have to tell the Captain.” She looked at her crewmates, neither of them moving from their spots. They looked at her, almost expectantly. She caught on. “No, absolutely not. I am not telling the Captain that we forgot the fuel.” Law was a meticulous man. He was precise, detailed. He left no room for trivial errors such as one of his crew members forgetting the fuel. Something like that was a given in his eyes. She was not going to face the wrath of her sleep deprived captain, especially when said captain gave her warm fuzzy feelings that she tried to ignore. Sure, he may have let her sleep in his bed, but that did not mean he would let her off easy for forgetting something as crucial as fuel. Shachi and Penguin kept looking at her, before one of them spoke up, “Please tell him for us, he likes you! He won't yell at you the way he will at us.” They pleaded.

“Like hell he won’t!” She refuted, “He doesn’t like me any more than he likes you guys. Please don’t make me tell him.” Still, neither of them gave into defeat. They stood there at a stand-off between the three. Apprehension hung in the air. Penguin finally spoke up, “Please, last time I told him we forgot something he put me on waste disposal duty for a month,” He shared a serious look with her. “I can’t go through that again. It was traumatizing.” He put his hand over his face, dramatically. She looked at the pair, incredulously before giving in. “Fine, but you owe me. Big time. The both of you.” She pointed her finger at both of them.

“Thank you! Thank you s-”

“Oh, save it,” she cut them off. She was far too tired to deal with her crewmates. Although she couldn’t blame them, it was an honest mistake on all of their parts. They had spent their whole last day on the previous island running grueling tests and checks on everything in the submarine. She could understand how they all let the shortage of fuel fall under their noses without notice. The question was, was her captain likely to take an understanding approach to the situation? She wasn’t too sure.

She put her things up in her bunk before making her way back to her captain’s quarters. She hoped that he hadn’t gone to sleep, she hated the idea of disturbing the rest that he needed. Begrudgingly, she knocked on the door. Not too long after, a ‘come in,’ was sounded from the other side. She turned the door knob and opened it to meet her captain’s eyes. “(Y/n), back already?” He asked her as she stepped into his office. Law was still sitting in the same spot as his desk as he was whenever she had left. She gave him a look, one that was laced with slight distress. “What is it?” He asked her, wondering what could’ve possibly happened in the short amount of time that she was away.

“Captain, promise you won’t get mad?” She asked him. He raised an eyebrow at her, staying silent as a cue for her to continue. “The fuel for the ship wasn’t stocked before we left the last port,” She admitted to him, looking away from his steel gaze. It was silent in the room. The loud kind of silence. The kind that rings in your ears uncomfortably. She could feel the irritation start to build within the room before a sigh escaped Law’s lips, “Who was in charge of the fuel?” another silence fell over them as she mulled over her next words. She could say that they didn’t exactly assign someone the job, and risk all three of them getting punished, or she could take the blame. Penguin’s dramatic words echoed through her head, ‘Last time I told him we forgot something, I was put on waste disposal duty for a month… It was traumatizing.’ She took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to Law’s expectant gaze. “It was me. I forgot to restock the fuel.” The look Law gave her was far from one of approval. It was disappointment. The look hurt, coming from her captain. “Before you yell-”

“You’re on waste disposal duty for a week.” He cut her off calmly. There was no yelling. Law was far too tired to raise his voice, and for a reason unbeknownst to him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to raise his voice at the woman in front of him. It was clearly a mistake, however Law detested mistakes. There was protocol, and they were required to follow it to prevent such thoughtless mistakes.

“Capta-” She was about to protest, but all her captain did was cut her off once more, “That is an order. Would you like to make it two?” She shut her mouth, not wanting to make the punishment any worse for herself. She hung her head, feeling like a child being berated. She would’ve much rather him yelled at her, “Yes sir,” she replied defeatedly.

Law’s jaw ticked at her words, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, “We’ll stop at the next port, and you will be responsible for gathering the fuel,” he ordered her. “I’ll tell Bepo to make a stop for the next port,” He stood up from his desk and for a second, she thought she’d get out of there without a lecture from her captain. She made her way to the door, Law trailing behind her. He stopped her, leaning closer to her. “Next time, be sure to double check everything before you clear the ship to leave the port. We don’t have time to forget things. We don’t have time to change our plans. You’re lucky we’re close enough to the nearest port to be able to refuel. Take this as your only warning,” He spoke low, his breath fanning against her ear. His voice held such authority. It was a reminder that he was in charge. Their eyes locked, and suddenly it was evident how close his face was to hers. Her heart skipped a beat, “Yes, Captain.” It came out almost in a whisper. She kicked herself for sounding so pathetic. Law didn’t move away at first, letting himself study her features. For a second, she could’ve sworn that he was looking at her lips, but he pulled away before she could question her thought any further. The butterflies that had been living in her gut fluttered around causing her blood to rush to her face, and warmth to gather in her limbs. Wordlessly, he turned away from her, both of them leaving the office. Her face was flushed, and all she could think about was taking a nice long nap until they reached the next port. She’d need the energy if she was going to restock the ship’s fuel all by herself. She sighed to herself before making eye contact with Shachi and Penguin. “You two, you owe me. Wake me up when we get to the next port.” She walked past them and into her bunk, finally ready to get some rest.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

She awoke a few hours later as the ship was ascending to the surface. She gave herself a few minutes before getting up, letting her mind wander. She thought about her captain. He was so enigmatic, carrying himself with such conviction with little explanation. Even before she joined the crew, he had peaked her interest. A pirate, from the worst generation, taking a hundred pirate hearts to the Marines, and becoming the youngest warlord. He was feared, for both his intelligence and his power. Trafalgar Law had been on her radar for quite some time, but being the elusive surgeon he was, she could only ever get scraps of information. Most tucked tail and ran when he was brought up in trades of intel. He was dangerous, and everyone knew it, but he was vital to her work. She was a journalist after all, she wanted to study him, learn everything about him and write it down. However, now it was more personal than she had ever imagined it would be.

It was no secret Law was an attractive man. He carried himself with confident assurance, hardly ever faltering in the face of conflict. He was tactical, calculated. He planned for everything, and accounted for any mishap that could happen along the way. Those golden eyes of his were ones of a hawk. He never missed anything, nothing went under his nose without him knowing. Being involved with the man was enthralling. From the electric touches, the heavy wordless gazes, the comfortable silences, it made her crave more. She wanted to know him, personally. To know what went on behind his eyes would be a privilege.

She was ripped out of her reverie by a knock at her door. She sat up, voicing a come in. Shachi opened the door, “We’re here at the port,” He informed her, sticking his head through the opening in the door. She glanced at the clock, 4 p.m. The next port was on a summer island, She had a few hours of daylight left to gather the fuel, and hopefully make it back to the ship to pick up her work where she left off. She stripped out of her clothes, the same ones that she had slept in. They still smelled of pine and amber. She changed into a tank top and some shorts, then slipped her boiler suit over her clothes, tying the top half around her waist. She made her way out onto the top deck where everyone had gathered as they docked at the small island. It was a village island that mostly made its profit through workshops that produced clothes. It wasn’t a very big, or significant island. (Y/n) hoped that she could get all of the fuel before all the locals turned in for the day, hoping she could get some information about this island. She didn’t know much about it, other than with who and what they traded.

She found her colleagues conversating amongst each other as she approached. “Where’s the captain?” She asked Bepo. The polar bear turned towards her, “He said he’s staying behind to finish work,” he answered her. Typical Law. She only hoped that he would get enough rest, and by the looks of worried annoyance on Bepo’s face, she could tell he was worried about that as well. It was no secret that their captain hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. He worked day and night, without yielding. He never took time for his well being, and was a hypocrite amongst his crew, as he always held everyone’s health to the highest standard, except for his own. Right now he was working on researching the sickness from the island they had just left. His work was unyielding, and he wouldn’t let himself rest until he was done.

The crew docked, and (Y/n) made her way off of the ship, finding the nearest fuel station with as many berries as she was provided to get the fuel. The town was quiet, and didn’t seem to care too much about the pirates that were occupying their port. Either unbothered, or laying low, the woman couldn’t complain. Shops, and stands lined the roads, some turning down into small neighborhoods. The fuel station sat at the end of the row of shops. She couldn’t help but to note that it was quite inconvenient for the station to be so far from the port.

The bells jingled as she walked into the fuel station. It was a small shop. The walls were tiles with white and yellow tiles. Drink coolers lined the back walls, and there were four aisles of various things, from chips to toiletries. “Welcome!” a voice had called to her. The voice was very familiar. Her eyes met with a tall man with shaggy black hair that fell over his eyes just slightly. A light shadow dusted his jawline. It took a minute for her to recognize the man standing behind the counter, before it hit her. He was an old classmate from her home island. How he got halfway across the world, she had no idea. She approached the counter with a surprised smile, “Yori?” The man’s eyes snapped up at hers, really looking at her for the first time since she had entered the station. “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance.

“I’m here to get fuel,” she smiled up at him, “It’s been a while, what have you been up to? I wasn’t aware that you had left the island,” she decided to make a little small talk. It wasn't everyday that she saw a familiar face.

“I work here at this station, I moved here about a few months ago. My grandmother lives here, I came to take care of her,” He told her, “What are you up to? I thought you were a journalist. I didn’t know you became a pirate,” A small humorless laugh left her mouth, the sudden question almost feeling like an intrusion, “Wow word moves fast here, huh?” she broke his gaze, briefly loo “I’m still a journalist.” She left it at that, not letting him into any close details. It was better if he didn’t know anything.

“Yeah, I noticed the ship at the dock. How long are you going to be here?” He asked her, “Maybe we can get a drink, catch up. It’s not everyday that I see someone from back home.”

“I think it's just for the night. I have to get this fuel for the ship before I can do anything else. I did want to know more about this place, maybe if I get done in time enough we can?” She smiled up at Yori. He nodded before asking how much she needed. She told him, and paid. It took quite some time to fill all of the fuel canisters, but once they were done all she had to do was trek back to the ship. “Would you like some help?” Yori asked her.

“That would be nice, if you don’t mind,” She told him. With the two of them, the trips could be cut in half, only needing three trips to get all the fuel back to the ship. Those three trips were not fun ones. It was hot, and the walk felt longer each time they made it. The fuel was heavy, weighing her down each step she took. She was sure to be sore tomorrow. The feeling of sweet relief set in as they set the last of the fuel canisters on the dock. “Thank you for helping me, Yori,” she smiled at him. Just as she was about to bring up the drink when she heard footsteps on the deck of the Polar Tang. She looked up to meet the eyes of her captain looking down on her and a man that he had never seen before. “Oh, hi Captain,” she looked up at her captain, “I thought you were working.” Law seemed irritated. His gaze followed over her, and then over to the man standing next her. “I was,” he replied, tension entwining his words. “Who’s this?” he asked her, the irritation seeping into his tone. It was evident that he still had not gotten any sleep. Dark bags hung under his eyes and his face was void of any color. Any longer without sleep and he would start to look sickly. She could feel his eyes scanning over her. His gaze was almost disapproving, and it made her shift on her feet. “This is Yori, he’s from my home island,” she informed her captain, “He was helping me with the fuel.” The man standing next to her that Law had just come to know as ‘Yori’ gave a half smile at her captain and a slight wave towards him. (Y/n) looked over at Yori, “I think I got it from here, thanks for helping me,” she smiled at him. Yori shared the smile, “Anything for an old friend,” He looked her up and down, although that didn’t quite catch her eye. It caught Law’s, though. Yori stepped a little closer to her, “If you decide that you wanted to catch up, come find me. I’ll tell you more about the island too. I know you like to write stuff like that down,” a small graced her lips as she nodded. Yori turned and walked away, leaving just the woman and her captain.

Law had already made up his mind that he didn’t like this Yori guy. He didn’t like how he had looked at (Y/n), akin to a dog looking at dinner. He didn’t like how close he had stood to her, like he had an obligation to be in her space. A feeling set into Law, one that knotted up his insides and made his head grow hot. He looked down at the woman on the dock below him gathering up fuel canisters to bring up to the deck. To him she looked stunning with her hair pulled back, a few flyaway strands framing her face. Her skin glistened under the unforgiving sun. She was wearing a white tank top with the boiler suit tied around her waist. The suit was tied in a way where you could clearly see the jolly rodger of the suit visible. She wore it with confidence, and with pride. It warmed Law to see her wearing the jolly roger with so much dignity. Eventually Law stopped staring and made his way down to the dock to help her with the fuel. “If you needed help carrying the fuel to the ship, you could’ve ask me,” Law said to her as he grabbed two of the canisters.

“I didn’t want to bother you, captain. I was hoping you were getting the rest that you needed,” She had noticed the dark bags as soon as he had walked onto the deck. She was worried about him, to say the least. She knew he was a busy man, but how he could work efficiently while so exhausted remained a mystery to her.

“I’ll rest when my work is finished,” Law shot back at her. The tone came out ruder than Law had intended, but from the looks of it, it didn’t even phase her. A small hum came as a reply to him, “At that rate, you may never sleep again,” She was only half joking, and it came out in a snarky way. Law always had some kind of work to do. At some point he would have to find a stopping place, but he never found one. Once he finished one thing, another arose. It didn’t help that someone kept creeping their way into his mind, nesting their way into his frontal cortex, refusing to leave. He decided not to reply to her comment, concerned he might say something he didn’t mean. They worked in the silence for the rest of their time together, neither one striking up a conversation. After almost an hour, all the fuel was moved from the dock, to the deck, and then down to the boiler room. The moving of the fuel was grueling, and she was surprised Law had decided to help her, considering he was so exhausted she didn’t understand how he still had the stamina for physical labor. She was also sure he was still upset about her forgetting the fuel with how he was acting. He truly was resilient in everything he did, no matter the conditions he was put under. She couldn’t deny, whether it be of biased intention or not, her captain was a remarkable man.

They were done now, and the sun hadn’t even begun to set. The rest of the crew was out on the island still, and (Y/n) still had time to meet up with Yori to get some details about this island that she only knew the basics about. Sure, he wasn’t a local, however his grandmother was. Surely he knew some things about this tiny island. Something worth writing about. Everywhere had potential, you just had to look in all the right places. She stood in her bunk, changing into some casual clothes. She had finished all her duties, so there was no reason to wear her uniform. She no longer sported the jolly roger, but instead settled into a pair of jean shorts and a brown tank top. She styled her hair up, leaving a few strands to fall down and frame her face. She wore a few pieces of jewelry to tie the outfit together. Two necklaces hung around her neck, stacked. A gold chain, with a simple gold heart locket, paired with a golden choker that had pearls dispersed every couple inches from each other. She layered some gold bracelets, with some rings. It was nothing over the top, but something to make her look nice. It wasn’t everyday she had gotten to see an old friend whom she had grown up with. She grabbed a crossbody bag, placing her notebook and some pens inside before slinging it over her shoulder. As she walked through the corridors of the ship, she passed her captain’s quarters, deciding to check in with him before she left the ship. She knocked on the door, three times like always. A ‘come in’ was voiced from the other side.

She opened the door to his office, the yellow light from his desk lamp spilling into the blue-lit hallways. She stepped in, closing the door behind her. Law looked up at her, taking in her appearance. For a split second, he was left speechless, only able to to breathe out the air that was left in his lungs. He rarely got to see her in casual clothes, and to him, it was a privilege he had even got to see her like this. She cleared her throat before speaking, breaking him out of his observation. “I’m about to go meet up with Yori, is there anything you would like me to do before I leave?” She asked him, standing in front of his desk. A bad taste in his mouth formed whenever the stranger's name rolled off her tongue. Yori. Law didn’t forget the way he had looked at (Y/n) like she was a piece of meat earlier when they were on the dock. He wouldn’t understand how special he was to have her dress up for him. He wouldn’t appreciate the way (Y/n) dressed into clothes she normally didn’t wear for him, or how she took extra time to look nice for him. How she had adorned her neck and her hands with gold, for him. Law couldn’t lie, he was just a bit jealous.He tore his admiring gaze away from her, pushing down an envy he hadn’t felt in a long time. She looked expectantly at her captain, waiting for an order, or for clearance to leave the ship but Law couldn’t seem to get the words out of his mouth. His mouth ran dry, and his breath caught. It was strange for the woman to have this effect on him. Words lodged in his throat trying to crawl up his windpipes, only to rest at the tip of his tongue unable to escape his mouth. After what felt like hours, he was finally able to push out a simple, “No.”

Law’s staring didn’t go unnoticed by her, for a second she worried to herself. Did she look okay? She turned to leave the office, but stopped at the door. “Captain, can I ask you something?” She looked back at the man who was looking at her with something that she couldn’t quite decipher in his eyes. Law nodded at her, cuing her to continue. “Do I… look okay?” She cringed at her own words, immediately wanting to take them and to stuff them back into her mouth. The question sounded insecure, something she never wanted to be seen as in front of her captain. She wasn’t one who seeked reassurance, especially on things as trivial as appearance. Law took in her appearance one more time, wondering how she could possibly be asking that. He cleared his throat before mustering up the strength to push out the words that were held in his throat, “You look beautiful.” Carmine red rose into her cheeks. A soft ‘thank you,’ left her lips, leaving them decorated with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you later,” She beamed once more before turning and leaving through his office door.

She left Law with only himself and his tired thoughts. His thoughts were consumed by the woman. In the past few days, his remedy for distraction had been piling up the work so high that he didn't have time to think about his crewmember. That remedy only lasted for so long before she wormed her way back into his head. Law was exhausted, yet he couldn’t find the urge to lay down in his bed. He shuffled around some papers on his desk, taking note of every paper that had that pretty cursive handwriting that he had grown to favor instead of his own. Law knew it was inappropriate to feel this way about an insubordinate. It was wrong. There was a power imbalance. Law always considered himself a morally correct man, but in this moment, he questioned every moral about professionalism he had. Breaking one rule wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

⋆⭒˚.⋆

As (Y/n) made it back into town, the sun had started to set along the horizon. Pink, red, and orange, danced in the sky amongst the clouds. There was denying the beauty of the scene. You couldn’t see another island for miles, just one small piece of land in solidarity. It was just the coast and the ocean. The sky, and its clouds. It was a peaceful island, most of its locals being middle-aged to older people. By the time the sun had started to set, all the stands and shops started to close down for the day. She took note of how some of the vendors would leave some of their belongings in their stands. Crime must have not happened often around here. It was uncommon in this day and age to be so trusting.

She made her way to the fuel station at the end of the road. Every step she took, she grew more uneasy. She pushed off her sudden apprehension, forcing a step forward toward the station. She stepped into the fuel station, the bells on the doorway jingling as she entered, a reflexive greeting coming along with the door. Without the sun shining into the station, the building took on a whole new atmosphere. Yellow lights hung from the ceiling, filling the station with a low buzz. She wrapped her arms around her to ease the unsteady feeling that was sinking into her gut. She approached the counter where Yori stood. For the first time since she had walked into the station, Yori had looked up from whatever was occupying him. A smile grew onto his face, his gaze setting onto the woman in front of him. Under the harsh lighting, Yori looked older. He no longer looked like the boy she knew from back home. His face had filled out, and smile lines had just started to form on his forehead and under his eyes. It was a reminder that time had gone by. They were no longer the kids that they once knew each other as. The incessant buzzing of the fluorescent lights was cut through by Yori, “Are you ready to go?” She nodded at him. He walked around the counter, and led her out of the building, locking the door behind him.

The sky had now morphed into a scarlet red, fading into dark oranges. The sky reflected off of the water, making it seem bigger than it was. A cool breeze blew through the emptying streets making goosebumps rise to the surface of her skin. They walked for a few minutes, useless small talk between the two, before arriving at a small bar at the very end of the aisle of shops and stands. It was dimly lit, and small. The walls and the floor were wood, alcohol brand sign posters hung up around them. The occasional WANTED poster was posted amongst them. There weren’t any that she hadn’t seen before. Most of them were the new generation pirates, others old and worn from being on the wall for years. Yori led her to a booth on the back wall. Coincidentally, her captain’s poster hung right above the table. He smirked down at them, sword on his shoulder, that infamous hat handing over his eyes.

WANTED

DEAD OR ALIVE

TRAFALGAR LAW

500,000,000

She couldn’t lie, it crossed her mind to take the poster off the wall, just so she could have it for herselfl. She shook off the thought. It was inappropriate to think of her captain that way. Even if he looked good in that particular photo of him. She turned her attention back to the man in front of her, who she had just realized had been talking the entire time she was daydreaming about her captain’s wanted poster. She hoped Yori hadn’t noticed her ignoring him, but by the looks of it, he hadn’t noticed one bit. She tuned into his words, “...and that’s how I ended up on this island taking care of my grandmother, and making minimum wage,” Yori let out a long sigh, “Thanks for listening, it feels really nice to get that off of my chest.” Guilt tugged at her chest as she nodded, “It’s no problem, really,” she replied, trying to keep her facade up. Yori smiled and said something about going to grab some drinks, leaving her alone in the booth. (Y/n) let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, letting her gaze follow back up to the poster hanging on the wall. She looked around the bar, making sure no one’s eyes were on her before grabbing the poster off the wall and folding it up, slipping it into the back of her notebook. She grabbed all her pens, and set the notebook in front of her. She intended on getting her information and then going back to the ship for the night.

Yori brought back drinks to the table. He set hers in front of her before sitting down in front of her. “So tell me about yourself. How did you end up being a pirate?” He chuckled a little with the question, and she had prepared for this. It wasn’t every day someone from your childhood ended up being a pirate. She let out a fake little laugh, “Oh you know how researching things go,” She smiled before changing the subject, “So tell me more about this island and its occupants,” She opened the notebook in front of her, not wanting to dwell on the fact that she was now a wanted woman. Yori took the hint and started giving out information about the island.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

A few hours had passed, and a few drinks in, the conversation had strayed from the island and onto people they had grown up with. Yori had told (Y/n) about all the classmates that ended up doing good for themselves, and the others who hadn’t. Now they were on the topic of the teachers. Gossip was never something she had typically indulged in, but it wasn’t every day you saw someone you knew on the Grand Line. The laughter between them died down, and (Y/n) looked at the clock on the wall for the first time since she had started taking notes about the island. It was 10pm now, and the sun had disappeared along the horizon. “I better go, it’s getting late,” She told Yori as she gathered up all her things, and put them all back into her bag. They stood up from the booth. “Let me walk you back to the dock, it’s dark out,” He offered. She took his offer and they headed back out to the street. It was far colder than it was whenever they first arrived at the bar, however the walk to the dock was not far so she didn’t have to suffer for long. The stars hung high in the sky, illuminating the land, and dotting the water. They reached the edge of the dock, and Yori turned towards her. “Thank you, for tonight,” he told her. He gazed into her eyes much deeper than she had liked. She took a step back from him before returning his thanks, “Thank you for all the information about this island.” Yori stepped closer to her, reaching out to put his hands on her waist, “Yori-” he cut her off with a quick kiss. She pushed back from him, “Oh, um, Yori… I’m sorry, but this isn’t that,” She told him, creating a far distance between them. Yori stepped back with embarrassment. “Oh,” was all he said. She couldn’t help but to feel bad for the man. She didn’t think she sent any mixed signals. She slowly backed up onto the dock,”Take care of yourself, Yori. Thank you for all the information on the island,” She told him before turning around and walking towards the ship, grateful to get out of that awkward interaction.

She made her way onto the ship. The corridors were empty, there wasn’t a crewmate in sight. She was happy to be back within the metal walls of the ship. She made her way to her room where she put down all her stuff. She stripped her clothes, and changed back into the boiler suit. It was late, but she still had some work she had to get done, and she still had to report to her captain. She got dressed, and grabbed her notebook from her bag before leaving her room once again. She was going to get some cleaning done, and do the waste disposal before they left the island. The halls were silent, and all she could hear were her footsteps clinking on the floors. A familiar door came into view. The captain’s quarters. Her heart skipped a beat thinking of knocking. The butterflies in her stomach betrayed her as they started to flutter around in her stomach, trying to crawl their way up her throat. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the ship fill her lungs. She was now standing in front of the door, with her hand raised. She knocked, hearing a faint ‘come in,’ from the other side. She turned the knob and walked into her captain’s office.

The air was always cooler in his office, and it always smelled of ink, paper, pine, amber, with a touch of antiseptic. She had come to find this smell comforting, and she thought back to this morning, waking up in between his sheets. A heat fought its way up into her cheeks. She looked at her captain sitting at his desk, hunched over some paperwork. He hadn’t looked up since she had entered the room. She made her way in front of him, breaking the silence, “I gathered some information about this island, if you’d like to hear it.” She offered it to him. She knew that the island held no importance, but she figured she’d offer him the chance to hear what she had gathered. Law looked up at her, motioning for her to continue. She opened her notebook as a folded up piece of paper floated its way down onto his desk. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she went to go snatch the paper up, but Law beat her to it, grabbing the paper in between his two fingers. “What’s this?” he asked her, unfolding the paper. She wanted to melt into the floor. Embarrassment coursed through every limb. Law looked at the poster, smirking a bit, “My wanted poster?” He took a good look at it before handing it back to her, the smirk on his face never falling. “This one is a bit outdated,” He told her, his smirk never falling. It flattered him, really. She folded the wanted poster back up, shoving it in her notebook, humiliation burning through her cheeks. “Tell me about this island,” Law told her, changing the subject, motioning for her to sit down. He knew the island held no importance, and he knew that she still had work to do, but he selfishly decided to keep her there a little longer. It had been a long day, and as much as he’d hate to admit it, being around her relaxed him. He watched her as she opened up the book and started to list off all the things that she had uncovered about the island. He listened to her intently as she spoke, her eyes lighting up every now and then whenever a name was mentioned that could bring some significance to the island. It didn’t take her long to go through all of the information. It was a small island, and there really weren't any reputable names tied to it, aside from the other pirates who would dock and leave just like their crew did. Still, Law took in every second of the information exchange. Once she was done, she looked up at Law with those wide eyes of hers that he swore would bring him to his knees one day. A small, rare smile graced his lips before dropping like it was never there, “It seems you got a lot out of today,” He told her. She smiled wide at him, and nodded, “I did! Yori really filled me in on this place. It’s not as boring as it seems.” She flipped through all of her pages, missing the way Law’s jaw ticked at the mention of the man whom she had spent time with that night. The man that she had gotten all dolled up for. Law knew he shouldn’t feel this way. He knew jealousy was not right, but he couldn’t deny the discomfort that tugged in his gut when he pictured her with someone other than him. It was an unhealthy attachment. It was inappropriate.

(Y/n) sat across from Law, still oblivious to his inner turmoil. Oblivious to the new feeling that made his head feel hot and his stomach sink low. Without looking up at her captain, she went on about her night, about how Yori caught her up on people from her hometown. How he told her about all the best places to eat on the small island. She missed the way Law’s jaw ticked every time she mentioned the man’s name. She missed the way Law’s leg started to bounce up and down, impatiently. She was too busy flipping through the pages of that beloved notebook, “Oh! Look, I even got a map!” She pulled the map out, walking around the desk to where Law was sitting. She unfolded the map and laid it out in front of him, “It’s really nothing impressive, though, I grabbed at one of those stands down the strip” She looked down at the map, “You can keep the map,” She offered to him, turning towards him. Her knees brushed against Law, and for the first time since she had started rambling she met the eyes of her captain. They were close. She could feel the warmth coming off of Law’s body. The breath she was breathing in caught in her throat. Law cleared his throat, but made no attempts to move back, selfishly relishing in the moment, “Thank you,” he told her. They stayed there for a minute or two, looking at one another before (Y/n) sighed taking one last look at her captain. “I still have some work I need to get done,” She told him, “I still have to do the waste disposal before we leave, and I was going to try to clean up the boiler room a bit.” A feeling of regret from that afternoon gnawed at Law. He felt as if he was too harsh towards her, rude even. He didn’t want her to overwork herself. He knew he was being a hypocrite whenever he made the judgment of her working too much. Law wanted to keep her there for longer. He wanted to spend more time with her. He wanted to hear her sweet voice ramble on about nothing in particular. It had been a long day of Law’s work. He had hardly gotten anything done between being exhausted, and pacing back and forth trying to clear his mind of the very woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t deny the peace that washed over him whenever she sat on the other side of his desk, working away on her own things. “Actually, I was hoping to get your feedback on some of the work I did today,” He told her. He hadn’t actually done a lot of work. It also wasn’t something that she hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t like she was well versed in pathology or anything medical outside of reading Law’s textbooks when she was bored. “Oh, okay!” she cheerfully replied to him, making her way back over to his desk. She walked around to his side, standing next to him, expecting to see some new work on his desk, but she couldn’t make out what was new and what was old from the mess that was his desk. She was standing close to him, again, and he could feel the warmth off of her skin. He could smell the sweet floral perfume she had put on before she left the ship earlier that day. He was growing impatient, playing this waiting game that he had made himself, and it was only getting in the way of his work which was the opposite of what he had intended.

Law was not an impatient man, but he was tired of weighing the moral costs of making the move. He was tired of ignoring the warm feelings. He was tired of pushing away the lingering thoughts, and burying them in work. He was sleep deprived, and that’s the excuse he decided he would tell himself tomorrow morning. Standing up from his chair, he reached out for her hand. A small gasp fell from her mouth, as she followed the pull towards him, “Cap-” he cut her off, sliding his hand to cup her cheek, the other resting on her waist. He pulled her into a kiss before she could even finish the word. The kiss was electric. White hot pleasure coursed through his veins, as he finally allowed himself to indulge in what he had wanted to for months now. He briefly broke apart, and stuttered words started to fall from her pretty mouth, he shushed her with another kiss, this one deeper. This one filled with need. She let him explore her mouth with his tongue, as he lifted her onto the edge of his desk, slotting himself in between her legs. “C-Cap-” she gasped, but he cut her off again, ”It’s Law,” He corrected her, leaning down to her ear, “In here you can call me Law,” He nipped at her ear, wrapping his hands up in her hair. He trailed down to her neck, leaving kisses and nipping at the skin every now and then. “Law,” she tested his name on her lips. His name sounded so sweet, the way her honeyed voice breathed out the syllables. His grip on her waist tightened, as he listened to her form words that he paid no mind to. “L-Law, this is wrong,” she breathed out, “you're my captain,” Law broke away briefly, “I know,” he told her.

“Law,” this one came out more of a whine, one filled with need. It made the all too familiar warmth blossom in the pit of his stomach, once again. “I still have things I haven't done,” she pushed against his shoulder, “I h-ave to finish the w-waste disposal,” Law’s kisses were unforgiving, and unwavering. She was melting in his hands, watching herself be turned into putty at the hands of her captain. Law broke his kiss, and looked up at her. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, “Don't worry about the waste disposal, I'll make Penguin do it,” He told her. As much as she wanted to feel guilty for letting him dump it on someone else, she couldn't. She was too busy trying to make coherent thoughts as her captain continued his actions. Law’s fingers ran up her figure, finding the zipper of her boiler suit. He looked at her, silently asking for permission that she granted with a nod. He slowly undid the zipper to the suit, kissing his way down to her chest. He breathed in her scent, pulling her body impossibly closer to his. He pushed the top of the suit off of her body, leaving her top half in a thin tank top.

He looked at her closely, closer than he had ever been able to before. Her cheeks were red, and her lips were swollen from his kiss. Temporary red marks littered her neck and chest where he had nipped at the skin. Her hair ruffled from him running his fingers through it. He hesitated for a second before asking her, “How about we take this somewhere more comfortable, yeah?” She nodded at him, as he led her to his bed. He laid her down on his plush mattress, crawling on next to her. She took a deep breath. Pine, hints of amber, antiseptic, Law. His golden eyes took in her figure, in his sheets. In that moment, without difficulty, he could confidently say that she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. He could feel himself falling, and for just this one night, he would let himself. He crawled over her, entrapping her body under his. He let his hands roam over her body, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to her. She took his face in her hands, kissing him passionately. For tonight, they both let themselves indulge in this little piece of heaven they had been granted.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

a/n: thank you all for taking the time to read this series, it means a lot to me, and i'm glad others can enjoy my work. i've had lots of fun writing this!

@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent

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#trafalgar law #one piece #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece fan fic #one piece fan fiction #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x you

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choppersconfirmedkills · 1 year

Text

Just Flowers

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (Ft. Best Friend Tess)

Word Count: 1.75k

Genre: Angst, with a bit of fluff

Warnings: Arguments, Joel being Joel, slight reference to an age gap, but it’s got fluff, not proofread

A/N: Happy Valentines Day! Here’s my first Joel Fic, I’m not all that content with it, the idea I had in my head didn’t really its way onto the page but I felt I should post it anyways.

Summary: It’s Valentines Day and you just wanted to do something nice for Joel.

It’s raining… in February. You could swear that ever since the outbreak occurred mother nature decided to switch everything up, weather included. But the rain didn’t bother you all that much especially when you had what you were looking for and you were finally home.

Or at least whatever this hobble was that you and Joel shared could be considered. The wallpaper was ugly and tattered, springs were sticking out of the couch, and you were pretty sure it was rat-infested, but it was what you had.

You tried to be as quiet as possible when entering the confines of the apartment knowing Tess would probably be over and sleeping and Joel trying to get some semblance of it. You didn’t wish to do that to them today because the truth is the two of them deserved just a little bit of peace. And luckily for you, they might have found it because the coast was clear.

Taking off your soaked outerwear, you took a sigh of relief. Everything had gone according to your hopes, which meant that tomorrow was going to go swimmingly. You wanted to surprise them with a few things. You had grown to care for both of these people, it was supposed to be just strictly business but eventually, they became the closest thing you had to family. With Joel, it was a bit different though. You knew he was closed off and pushed everyone in existence away, but you couldn’t help but fall for the old grump. And you thought he deserved to feel a little bit of that care you had for him.

Click.

“Shit,” you turned around to see that the lamp was turned on and Joel and Tess were on the couch, staring at you. As if your parents caught you sneaking in after curfew. Which you technically did.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Tess was the first to speak, adjusting in her seat slightly.

“Uhhhh, dark?”

“You’re damn skippy it is, where the hell were you at this time of night?” She stood up.

“Oh, nowhere and everywhere,” you responded, knowing you were being difficult, but there was no way you were spilling this secret right now. It wasn’t even Valentine's Day yet.

“That’s not a good enough answer,” Tess replied moving to grab your face and scanning you for injuries and bite marks. Tess would never admit it but she had a soft spot for you, you were like her younger annoying sibling that she could never get rid of. She was taking mental notes of your figure when she caught sight of your bandaged hand. You winced, preparing for the barrage that was about to come your way. “Where were you?” she asked again.

“Outside,” you huffed. It was a vague answer but they both knew what it meant.

“WHAT?” Joel was screaming, enough to make you physically flinch. “You went outside the walls? Alone? What the hell were you thinking?”

“Joel, would you chill out? You’re scaring her” Tess glared at him. “Sweetie, come with me. Let’s talk where grumpy can’t bother us.” Taking your hand Tess brought you out into the hallway.

“No, but seriously, what the hell were you thinking?” She smacked the back of your head, eliciting an obnoxious yelp from you. “Outside the walls?”

“Tess, I can handle myself just fine. Plus I didn’t go far,” you countered.

“It’s not you that I’m worried about. Joel about damn near had a heart attack. I’ve never seen him like that. And your hand? He’s going to lose it!”

“It’s not a bite,” you answered looking down at the bandage.

“I know it’s not, you wouldn’t have come in the apartment if it was. You scared us both, Y/N. Just don’t do it again.” Tess sighed.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. But I do hope this makes up for it a little bit?” You smiled reaching into your pocket and pulling out-

“Chocolate?” She gasped pulling the bar out of your hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you smiled at her.

“How’d you even get your hands on it?”

“A lot of shifts shoveling shit, and putting up with one handsy smuggler,” you laughed, earning a scowl from her. “It’s dark chocolate so I hope it hasn’t gone bad, but I know it was your favorite from before all of this.”

“Alright, you’re forgiven, and thank you.” She pulled you into a hug which was not something she did very often. “Now go back in there and talk to Joel. Hopefully, you’ve got some incredible sweet talk up your sleeves for this because he is pissed.” She smiled at you and walked off towards her place, leaving you to deal with the fallout of a very angry Joel.

You took one last deep breath before opening the door to your inevitable doom.

“Are you stupid, dumb, or both?” So that’s how he was going to start this.

“Joel, I can take care of myself just fine. I did it long before you or Tess came along,” you sighed moving to look at him. When your eyes finally focused in the dark you realized, he was wet. His clothes and his hair. “Joel, did you go out there and look for me?”

“Of course I did! What else did you expect me to do? Sit here in our place and wait for you to possibly come back home?” He yelled. “What in the hell possessed you to do something so damn reckless?”

“I didn’t go far. Not even a mile outside the walls! I was out there maybe an hour tops,” you yelled back.

“An hour is plenty enough time for you to end up dead or worse.” Bit. “Knowing you that ain’t too far off an option!”

“Are you saying that I’m stupid enough to not watch my own fucking back? I know how to survive out there! You’re not the only person in the world who can do it!” You couldn’t understand why he was so angry at you. He had no reason to be, no ulterior motive. He didn’t have to take care of you. You just worked together and were roommates essentially. And like he told you all those years ago, he won’t get attached.

“Yes, I am. Considering you went outside the QZ, at night, past curfew, in the rain, and alone! If that ain’t stupid I don’t know what is.” He huffed.

“And would you look at that, I came out unharmed!”

“Then what the hell is this?” He grabbed your bandaged hand and held it up like it was the final clue in a murder mystery movie.

“It’s fine,” you started unwrapping it, “the bleeding stopped a while ago so I should probably take this thing off.” There it was, just a bunch of superficial cuts littered across your palm. Some as faint as a paper cut others deep enough to leave a faint scar.

“How did you possibly do that?” Joel sighed inspecting your injury. He had calmed down considerably seeing how unharmed you really were.

“What time is it?” You asked gently pulling your arm back to you.

“2 am. Don’t avoid the question,” he nearly growled. You just ignored it, walking towards the backpack you had long since discarded on the table. Reaching in you pulled out what you had caused this argument over.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” you said facing away from him.

“Are you fucking shitting me right now? Answer my damn question, Y/N,” he grumbled, starting to get himself angry again.

“Just do it Joel, Jesus Christ.” You took his disgruntled sigh as a sign that he gave in to your ridiculous request. Being as subtle as possible you put the gift in his hands, delighting in the confused look that graced his features. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You smiled a little watching him inspect what you gave him, but then you watched as he frowned and your heart broke a little. “Flowers? You did all that just for some fucking flowers?”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t like them,” you scowled.

“It’s ridiculous! All that danger for a couple of fucking wildflowers. It’s not important!”

“It is to me, Joel!” You snapped.

“They’re just flowers, for fuck sake.”

“I know I was young when this all started, but every year on Valentine’s Day, my mother and I would go out into the yard and pick flowers to bring to my father as his gift,” you paused gathering your breath in hopes to prevent your voice from breaking, and you wore you could’ve heard him mutter ‘shit’ under his breath. “My mom used to tell me that giving someone flowers was a way to show you care and that Valentine’s Day was the perfect day to do so. So I wanted to do it for you. I don’t expect anything out of you, I never have, and I know you don’t let anyone in. I just wanted to show you my appreciation for you. Give you something beautiful in this shithole of a world.”

Joel was frozen gazing over the flowers, stuck in whatever thought process he was in. It was agony for you, floating in limbo while Joel fought a war with his thoughts. You don’t know how long it was until you heard him release the breath you didn’t even notice he was holding in. “God, don’t you ever do that again, you understand me?” He relented, pulling you into a hug, a hand placed on the back of your neck and the other on your lower back. “I thought you were gone.”

“I don’t ever plan on leaving you, Joel,” you nuzzled into his chest, content to just live within his warmth like this.

“Now, seriously, how did you hurt your hand?” he sighed.

“Oh, I guess I forgot that a lot of these things have thorns in them. It was worth it though,” You smiled looking up at him.

“That’s because you got me weeds,” the lightest chuckle escaped him, which made your heart burst at the seams.

“You asshole,” you lightly shoved him through your giggles, breaking away from the hug. “They are beautiful flowers!”

“You risked your life to get me weeds because that’s what these are.” You just huffed at his commentary and tried to stomp away from him. That didn’t fly with him because he pulled you back into his embrace, holding you even tighter this time. “But thank you,” he whispered into the crown of your head, leaving a ghost of a kiss there.

#tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #tlou imagine #the last of us imagine #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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atlasofthestaars · 7 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .004

first part | previous part | next part

Note: I often try to plan out plot points while I’m at work, and I was like wow! I get why Kronika went insane because trying to keep all these plot points (especially the parts where I plan on diverging from canon) logical is wild.

This is the first chapter that doesn’t follow any of the main campaign events at all, so it was a bit more of a struggle to write for, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! There will be more chapters of this, building up the much needed foundation for the champions squad. Don’t worry Lin Kuei fans, there will be a few more Lin Kuei moments too during these times, allowing us to see them again before they disappear for a while during the tournament arc!

Shang Tsung deliberation is up until a week from when chapter 3 was released/aka when the tumblr poll ends.

Otherwise, I will accept any wants for any other love interests until we get closer towards the Outworld arc since I’m pretty sure all Earthrealm men are already confirmed.

For example, someone asked for Reiko, so here’s a poll for him to gauge interest, AO3 fans, please comment on your thoughts for him!

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED TRAIN SOME NEW CHAMPIONS

Turns out, thinking about the things that worried you leads to overthinking.

Pacing back and forth in your room, you felt the cool wood under your feet. With how much you paced around the room, you were surprised the wood had not been ruined at this point. You paused in your pacing and you looked outside the window to look at the moon.

You were never a good sleeper, finding it hard to sleep at night. But oddly enough you always found yourself awake for the sunrise due to routine. You often found naps were a good supplement for your tiredness, but some days you would suffer being awake without much rest.

Your memories buzzed around your head too much to rest easy. You paced back and forth once more for a few more minutes until you stopped at the door of your room, briefly considering going and seeing whether Liu Kang could help ease your troubled mind.

Your hand laid upon the handle, the metal knob cool to the touch. Goosebumps trailed up your arm as you stared at the doorknob. You tried to will yourself to move. To finally speak with Liu Kang about the memories that weighed upon you, to free yourself of this silly burn that you brought about upon yourself.

Unfortunately, you could not bring yourself to step outside your door.

You were too racked with guilt to do that.

You were afraid of the idea that you would slip up and mention the many other memories you had recovered, the timeline you were beginning to piece together, and Liu Kang would begin to realize this. You were afraid of upsetting the man who most generously took you in and allowed you to stay by his side despite your odd past.

You did not want to ruin the good thing you had going for yourself.

Your hand dropped from the doorknob. Sighing, you walked over to a particular floorboard and carefully lifted it up. You reached inside and pulled out the leather bound diary that you had found on yourself when you first awoke in this world. Along with it was a pen that somehow, despite the years, had not run out of its smooth ink.

This was your only confidant in the memories you had. Moving towards your desk, you adjusted the lantern in your room to hang over the desk, giving you more light to work with. You stared at your words, trying to look at what you recalled.

Your memories seemed to be linked with those you interacted with, so the Lin Kuei and Liu Kang and the memories surrounding them were the strongest. Even still, you had holes in what should be completed memories. Meeting the new people seemed to patch some of them up, though.

You sighed as you skimmed the pages. They were mostly short phrases describing what you remembered from these brief memories. It was hard to keep them in order since they were random and never in order whenever you got them.

You picked up the pen, spinning it with a flourish before you began to write.

Kung Lao, a cocky monk of the Shaolin with a razor hat. Once was friends with Liu Kang. Seems now he is a farmer and friends with Raiden.

Raiden, Thunder god. Seems to have once been what Liu Kang is now. Mortal now, and a farmer of Fengjian with Kung Lao.

Johnny Cage, actor. Was with Sonya Blade and had a kid. Still an actor, has a different wife, and no kid.

Kenshi Takahashi, once a blind swordsman with telekinesis and telepathy with a magic sword. Had a kid. Now seems that he has his vision, uncertain of abilities.

You sighed as you put down your pen, staring at the words in front of you. You tried to will yourself to conjure any memories you had of these men previously from just their name. Unfortunately, this just gave you a headache…and not the kind that gave you any helpful memories.

“Damn.” You muttered leaning back in your chair. You had never had control of your memories, even after all these years. They were rather inconvenient and useless, since they rarely gave you any insight on the ones you meet. They’re all so different.

The only constant was their names.

You closed your eyes as you thought of the four men you had written down. Who were they? What was their connection to you? You sighed as you rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the headache you had accidentally given yourself.

Ah shit, you were in charge of training them, weren’t you? Or at least, somewhat.

They were going to be a headache in more ways than one, it seemed.

“So, how, exactly, am I to train the four?” You inquire as you glance over to Liu Kang, briefly noting the way the sunlight landed on his features. It was another morning of watching the sunrise with the fire god. You had gotten a few hours of sleep, at least, before rising to meet up with Liu Kang as usual. A few hours was better than nothing.

You had started off quiet, before natural conversation hit the both of you. You discussed many things, mostly the events of the past few days, before the conversation naturally landed on the new recruits. You found out that they were going to be arriving at the Wu Shi academy in a few days time, giving them enough time to get their life sorted out before they drastically change theirs.

The god looked over to you. It seemed like he had been expecting this question, and you wondered just how easily he could read you.

“You are to simply oversee their training and test their skill. I know you are not all too familiar with the teaching of the monks, so they shall handle the bulk of it.” He explained, and you found yourself sighing with relief. “Not to mention, I shall also assist when I am able.” You were not ready to have to handle training four grown men, so hearing that you were mostly there to test them was great.

You were good at fighting, at least. It was a skill that people often commended you for.

Madam Bo often praised you as one of the best she had sparred with. The old Lin Kuei’s grandmaster often found value in the practice you gave his sons. You would never admit it, but you prided yourself on these compliments.

“That’s good.” You remarked, feeling your shoulders relax. You returned your gaze to the rising sun and the pretty colors that were painted in the sky. You paused, deliberating over the next words that were to leave your mouth. “Why me?” You asked, your voice almost shy. That question had been haunting you ever since you found out about this arrangement back in Fengjian.

“Because I can trust you.” Liu Kang began, his voice filled with certainty. You felt a pang of guilt, your gaze dropping to your hands. Your mind screamed with how you were unworthy of his trust with the memories you found yourself unable to confide in him with. “And I know you will provide a healthy challenge to them.” You chuckled at his words, pushing out the voice that whispered in your head.

“Why are we recruiting these people so late?” You inquired, asking another question that had been bugging you for a while now. You were glad that Liu Kang was a benevolent god, and never seemed to mind your questions. “Would it not be more wise to recruit them earlier since the tournament is mere months away?”

“Had we sought them before, none of them would be ready.” Liu Kang answered wisely, and you hummed. You knew better than to ask how he knew this, despite the years together there were some things you knew he kept secret, and his innate knowledge was one of those things. You supposed it was just a godly thing.. “It is only until now that an opportunity presented itself.”

“And so you decided that I was one of the best options to train them within a few months?”

“Indeed.”

“You have a lot of confidence in me, Liu Kang.”

“Should I not?” The god questioned. The tone in his voice surprised you, and you looked over to him instinctively. You were surprised to see such a strong look of confidence on his face. Gently, he put a hand on your shoulder. His thumb rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. Through your clothes and his hand wraps, you felt the comfort of his warmth.

“No, you should.” You said, your voice filled with a bit more confidence. You looked at his face, feeling oddly proud of yourself to have earned the god’s confidence. He nodded, seeming content with the shift in your attitude. “I shall do my best.” You said, bowing for the man.

“I know you will.”

“How are you boys doing?”

Striding into the courtyard of the Wu Shi academy, you looked at the four recruits. You noted how each of them wore the uniform, and how it all seemed to fit them, more or less. You walked with confidence in front of them, imbued with the words you had been given before from Liu Kang.

All of them were various degrees of exhaustion. Not surprisingly, the actor seemed to be having it the roughest. He was still fine, but it was easy to tell he was the most winded out of the four. You assumed his luxurious lifestyle had something to do with it.

You sucked in a breath as you fought the massive headache these four were giving you. Being stuck with overseeing their training, you assumed you’d be having this feeling a lot. It was no matter, you’d simply sleep it off right now.

Strangely enough, despite the intensity of the headache, you were unable to glean any memories easily. Probably something to do with so many people trying to resurface at once.

“Training has been rigorous, but enlightening.” Raiden replied, his face flush from exertion, and you noted how out of the four he was one of the ones faring a bit better. You assumed it was because he wasn’t underestimating the monks’ intense lessons. You smiled at him, nodding.

“Good, as it should be.” You said, humming as you clasped your hands behind your back, observing them all. Despite their tired state, you could tell they were at least eager. “As Lord Liu Kang has said, I will be partially in charge of your training.” You grinned at them, seeing them perk up at your words. “Today will be a…benchmark to see where your skills lie.”

“Who exactly are you again?” Johnny asked, still hunched over slightly, hands on his knees as he looked up at you. You saw the slight glares from the others, probably because they saw his words rude. He put up his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t get a proper introduction like you guys did.” He defended himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t take offense.” You chuckled, shaking your head. You said your name, clearly and loudly so the others made sure what it was. “I’m a companion of Lord Liu Kang, and he has entrusted me with overseeing your training.” You explained before clearing your throat. “I’m not one for lectures, so I’ll get right to it, who wishes to go first?”

The four looked amongst themselves, seeming to deliberate amongst themselves silently on who would face this challenger they’ve never seen fight. You let out a silent chuckle, wondering how they sized you up. Eventually, you watched as Kung Lao strode up to take the challenge.

“Let me show the others how it’s done.” He declared, seeming confident. You saw the small smirk on his lips, and in return you smiled graciously at him. You gestured for the others to step to the side, and you watched as a few of the monks gathered around to watch. The monks were no stranger to your fighting prowess.

“Bold.” You commended, nodding as you walked into place with Kung Lao, settling into the all too familiar fighting pose that you were familiar with. You watched as he mimicked your actions, settling into his as well. “Now, allow me to show you why I was entrusted with this task.”

You watched as Kung Lao approached, confidence in his strides. Almost too confident. You held a defensive position. The point of this test was to gauge their abilities, so acting on the defensive first would allow you to see what their confidence and skills on the offense were like.

As he swung the first punch, you blocked it with ease. You supposed it was a bit unfair, having already known what Kung Lao’s fighting style was like after watching him in the teahouse along with the bits of memories you had of him. You allowed him to attempt to break your defense more, noting how he had a strong emphasis on his punches with their quick nature.

You had to commend him on his confidence, he knew he was a strong fighter. The farmer had a lot of potential.

It wasn’t until his major slip up with throwing a rather risky punch that you decided that it was time to go on the offensive. Ducking under the move, you went for a sweep, knocking the man off his feet. You waited until he got back up before you grabbed him. Taking him off his guard, you brought him close as you winded your leg back.

As you sent the kick flying into his stomach, you transformed your leg into that of a secretary bird’s, allowing you to put even more power than you would have normally.

“Holy shit!”

You disregarded the actor’s exclaim as you watched Kung Lao fly back, tumbling from the strike. As he stumbled up, he seemed surprised before hesitantly approaching once more. This time, he utilized more caution as he swung at you, trying to even employ the technique of grabbing you like you had. Easily you shoved him back, retaliating by whirling around and transforming yourself to have a kangaroo’s tail which you swung at him with.

This back and forth went on for a bit, with Kung Lao being easily fended off by you before he eventually conceded, calling for surrender.

“You fight well.” You commend, bowing towards Kung Lao. He did the same as he panted, nodding as he caught his breath. You stood up to look at him as he gestured towards you, a look of awe on his face.

“I am amazed at your transformation skills.” The farmer admitted, looking at you up and down with amazement as he continued to catch his breath. “Is it possible to learn that?” He asked, almost too eagerly as he walked over to the side to rest up.

“It is a skill I was born with, so unfortunately I cannot teach you.” You told him, grinning as you held out your arm to transform it into a bear’s with its claws out. “I have the ability to transform any part of my body, and all of me, into an animal.” You explained as you transformed your arm back as easily as you had changed it.

“Now, who is next?”

You causally stood there, only having barely broken a sweat as they stood to the side, catching their breath. A pleased look appeared on your face as you crossed your arms, noting how they each fought. Today you had gone easy on them, being more defensive than your usual aggressive fighting style. You surmised they’d only have a few bruises each because of this. You tried to stay away from anything that would rip and tear.

Honestly, your memories had been helpful for once. They helped clue you in on the fighting style of each man, the odd exception being Raiden who felt pretty different than the man you remembered. It was nice to know what to expect, unlike the first time you had fought the Lin Kuei in training…

Kung Lao had been interesting, being the most confident in his strikes and fighting style. That matched with his speed allowed you to see where he truly shone in his fighting. Taking defense against him was a challenge due to how swiftly he struck, but being able to defend well proved useful as you could counter him when he was left vulnerable after a failed attempt at breaking your defense.

You hummed, recalling how this version of the man lacked the iconic razor hat you remembered. You wondered briefly if you should suggest it to him, or if it’d be odd. You also noticed how despite his confidence in this life, he was at least a bit more humble than when you remembered him last.

Johnny Cage had been unique, his fighting style more flashy and all in than what you were used to. It felt like it should be impractical from just watching it, but the man made it work somehow. He also had interesting evasion, which almost took you off guard. You think you could definitely work with it, especially teaching him how to better evade the opponent since he seemed to grasp that concept well already.

Your eyes looked over to Kenshi. Kenshi had been odd to train with since he wielded a sword, and it felt like he had the most experience in fighting. Your eyes trailed down to his hands, noting the tattoos that littered his hands. You remembered how Liu Kang had briefed you in on his past. A yakuza…that explains the calculated way he fought.

You wondered if you’d ever have to deal with the telekinesis you remembered he had in his past life.

Raiden had been the most different from his past life. In both his fighting since he lacked the lightning powers you remembered so strongly, and how he carried himself. He was not as confident as you hoped, despite the obvious skill he had.

You’d have to work on that with him.

“Excellent work for day one with me.” You congratulated, causing the four men to look at you with varying degrees of confusion. You guessed they thought they had done not so well due to how you had battled them off easily. “As I said, this is a benchmark, so I know now how to best advise where to take your training, especially since the tournament is mere months away.”

“That was a benchmark?” Johnny Cage asked, sending you a disbelieving look. He had been one of the ones you had ended up fighting the most before he conceded. He had been stubborn against you, and you don’t know whether that was foolish or something to be commended for. Maybe it was both. “You kicked our asses.” You chuckled as you grinned at him.

“Did you expect anything less from someone who is allowed to stand by the Fire God’s side?” You asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone before you observed them once again. “We’ll meet again tomorrow after your training with the monks. For now, you are all dismissed.” You said, bowing towards them, your hands forming a fist into your palm similarly to how Liu Kang does.

You turned around, intending to go back to the Fire Temple for a well deserved nap, especially since the headache was getting nearly unbearable at this rate. Then, you heard your name being called. Turning around with a raised eyebrow, you watched as Johnny jogged to catch up with you.

Your head pounded as he neared, but you at least felt some relief as you felt a few more memories resurface.

You recalled how he had been very, very arrogant as a younger man. He had brazenly had his name tattooed across his chest, and for a moment you allowed your head to dip to his chest, curious if he still had it in this life. Somewhere, after what you could only remember a big event as a tragedy, you remembered he mellowed out.

You wondered how this one’s attitude laid on those scales.

“You know, you’d be a hit in Hollywood.” He told you, his breath still heavy with exertion. You raised an eyebrow, surprised at his words. You weren’t all too familiar with what he was talking about, but you assumed it had to do with his acting background which you vaguely remembered.

“Really?” You asked, holding back a chuckle as you looked at him with amusement. Even across the world, he was still thinking about his acting career. “What makes you say that?” You inquire, deciding to entertain his thoughts.

“People dig animals,” The actor started off, gesturing to you, “and not to mention how much you’d be valued there for being able to act as any animal?” He continued, acting as if he were trying to sell you on the offer. “Directors would be hitting you up left and right.” You felt yourself grin a bit more at his praise, but reminded yourself not to get caught up in his flattery.

“Are you implying I’d only be adored for my animal side? And not my own charisma?” You asked with faux offense, deciding to try and tease Johnny. You were surprised how he didn’t even flinch at your words and smoothly replied.

“Nah, you got that and more.” The actor admitted, shrugging as he pointed at you. “but it’s not often people meet an animal shapeshifter.” He pointed out with a nod, making you nod. “So if anything is your claim to fame, it’s that.”

“You’re interesting, Cage.”

“So I’ve been told.” The man replied wittily as he grinned at you, eagerness shining in his eyes. “So, you interested in becoming a star after all this blows over?” It was an innocent seeming question, but you narrowed your eyes, not certain on the intention of the question.

“Why are you so interested in my career path?” You inquired, your tone a touch more serious. You glanced over to see where the others had gone. All gone. No one to save you from this man’s questions. You crossed your arms as you gazed at him with skepticism.

You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as your mind reminded you all of a sudden how he had offered a similar gig in your past life.

Some things never change.

“Listen, I talked with Liu Kang, this shit has movie written all over it.” Johnny Cage decided to be a bit more transparent with you. You raised an eyebrow, and gestured for him to go on. “I think if what he says is true, I can make a box office hit!” He gestured towards you eagerly. “And I think you have what would make this movie superb, my friend.”

“Interesting…I’ll have to pass though.” You said, shutting him down. You watched as his glee dropped a bit, and you started to walk off. You were surprised as he still walked over to try and cut you off.

“Come on, hear me out-”

“Not right now, Cage.” You replied, putting a hand up to silence him. He huffed and you could tell he held back rolling his eyes. You sent him an unamused look. “Perhaps focus on your training first, then we can discuss it.” He perked up, and you decided it was best to start to walk off before he can try and talk to you about his movie shenanigans again.

“Really!?”

It was another sleepless night.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the mattress as you sat up. Perhaps you should stop trying to take naps and fight through the sleepiness so you can actually sleep at night for once. You sigh as you slump over, rubbing your eyes.

You should go outside, maybe do something productive. It’s been a few days in a row of this, you had to try something.

Not knowing exactly what to do, you followed your sense of wanderlust. You left your room, down the halls and out the building. From there, you left and found yourself standing at the entrance of the Fire Temple. You hesitated as you stepped out onto the dirt path, hearing the rocks crunch beneath your feet.

You’ve never left in the middle of the night.

It’s not like you had a curfew, or that you had any promise to stay inside the Fire Temple at night. Far from it, you remembered how Liu Kang told you that you were allowed to come and go as you pleased. That was long ago. You never thought much of his words, thinking you would never stray far.

You wouldn’t, but you figured there was no harm in going and walking off your restless energy instead of staying cooped up within the Fire Temple.

With a burst of anxiety and what you could barely consider courage, you walked on. You followed what felt like an invisible trail, until you found yourself standing in front of the Wu Shi academy.

Strange, but you supposed maybe you could train. Walking carefully into the academy, you made sure to be quiet, as to not disturb the monks with any noise near their sleeping quarters. You found yourself making your way towards the training grounds where you were surprised to hear the faint noise of training.

Transforming your ears into bat ears, you tried to hone in on the sounds. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood still, trying to make sure the person was not a threat, and if you could recognize them. You blinked as you suddenly came to a realization.

You walked quietly, making sure to follow the lessons Madam Bo and Bi-Han had pushed onto you to remain quiet and stealthy. Be stealthful as the night, and as deadly as the dawn. You peered from around a pillar, and spotted the person standing there alone, and you confirmed your suspicions.

It was Raiden.

You watched for a few minutes, changing your eyes to those of owl eyes to see better in the dark, to better observe. He was going over the basics, ever diligently. You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow. You had thought he had been more…feeble, being more reserved than Kung Lao. And yet, he was here, training in the dead of night.

What a peculiar man.

After a few more minutes, you watched as he made a critical error in his form. He didn’t seem to notice, and you sighed. He kept on training, repeating the error. You cringed. That was going to form a nasty habit, and if you were to be the mentor Liu Kang trusted you to be, you couldn’t let that happen.

Moving out of position, you slinked closer towards him, stopping to lean against a pillar that was only a few feet away from him. You changed your eyes back, letting your eyesight return back to normal. You felt the all too familiar feeling of the headache return, and you grimaced.

Your memories for Raiden were confusing. He was like a completely different man in almost every way. If your memories didn’t trigger in such specific ways, you wouldn’t believe the man that appeared in your head was the same one that was training in front of you.

Maybe because he wasn’t the same man.

“You’re doing it wrong.” You spoke, your voice ringing clear in the quiet courtyard. You watched as Raiden jolted from surprise, stumbling as he whirled around in a fighting stance to face you. You smiled at him as you held your hands up. “Relax, Raiden.” You said softly, to try and calm him down from the sudden shock.

“Why are you…?” Raiden began, eyes wide in confusion as he stared at you, not processing the situation quickly. He swallowed as he tilted his head, mouth open as he tried to muster up the words to speak. You brushed off his confusion, gesturing to his stance.

“Your form was off.” You comment, gesturing to his body and pointing towards where he exactly had been incorrect. “You were practicing with it being wrong. That’ll be bad practice for you.” You point out. You watched as he tried to correct his form, and you hummed, gesturing to instruct him on how to fix it. As he finally shifted back into a proper stance, you nodded. “Better.”

“Um…thank you.” The farmer boy said, his awkward feeling at the situation obvious. Not only did it show on his body language, but it was shown plainly on his face. You had a feeling this man couldn’t obscure his feelings for the life of him.

It was good to be honest, but you were worried it might work against him.

“I have trouble sleeping at night.” You explained, crossing your arms as you sighed. Your eyes looked down at the ground as you noted how the moonlight fell and illuminated the area around you two. “I decided to go on a walk and wound up here. I thought it might be nice to try and train, then I saw you out here.” You looked up, and gestured to him.

“Oh.” Raiden said after a few moments of silence. His face flushed as he put two and two together that you were asking for him to explain why he was there too. “I…uh, couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, looking down to the ground in defeat. “It’s different here than in Fengjian.”

Ah. Homesickness.

“I see, so you decided to try and train and work off your restlessness?” You inquired, tilting your head as you tried to gauge his reaction. He paused, considering your words for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.

“A bit.” He said, nodding his head. “But I was also thinking about our sparring today.” The farmer admitted. You blinked in surprise, and nodded, wanting him to go on. “I just wanted to go over what the monks taught us today, so next time I would fare better against you.”

How humble and sweet.

“While I admire your determination, there’s two problems.” You said as you kicked off the pillar you had been leaning against. You strode over to stand closer to Raiden, gesturing to him. “One, you must be diligent in your forms. Practice without purpose only builds bad habits.” He nodded eagerly, seeming to take your words seriously. “Second, there is a thing such as over practicing.”

“I see.” Raiden said, letting your words sink in as he nodded. He stared at you with a mixture of admiration and attentiveness, and you smiled. Quickly, he bowed in appreciation. “I’ll keep this in mind, thank you.”

“No problem, what kind of mentor would I be if I let you practice such horrible habits?” You inquired, crossing your arms. You observed the man a few moments more, and you sensed that neither one of you were quite tired enough to go to bed. “I have a feeling neither one of us is ready to sleep, would you like me to run you through the forms again?”

“Yes please!”

Maybe you were cut out for this after all.

part five

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cairavende · 3 months

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My wonderful girlfriend got me Gideon the Ninth for Christmas and I realized why should I just give Worm recaps? Let's read some Locked Tomb! (We'll see how this format works, maybe I'll adjust it. Specifically might break stuff down into smaller segments instead of full acts, but I didn't think of doing this until after I had read all of act 1.)

Gideon the Ninth Act 1 (chapter 1 through 8) thoughts:

This book is so gay oh my god

Like, it's gay in ways I can't even explain. I love it.

Harrow beats the shit out of Gideon in chapter 2 and I don't know if I've ever seen someone get beat up in a more gay way.

"Oh Griddle! But I don't even remember about you most of the time." ROLL A FUCKING DECEPTION CHECK HARROW! You are saying this standing in the middle of the field you spent all night burying bones in just to foil her escape in the most dramatic way. You can't stop remembering her.

Gideon is the most herbo of herbos. I fucking love her. I love reading her PoV. She just knows punch and stab with sword and if those don't work than she'll just do them harder.

Also Gideon is SO fucking gay. Dear god. Dulcinea faints and Gideon turns off all though. HELP PRETTY GIRL. Nothing else.

Ok I could just make this whole thing "EVERYTHING IS GAY" but there is technically more than that.

I love how weird everything is and how little explanation is given. I don't want pages of exposition, I want to learn the world as it comes at me! This is perfect.

And just the very nature of things that seem weird not being given more than a passing thought in the book is information. Something may seem wild to the reader but it's so normalized to the characters that they wouldn't even think about the idea of it being different.

Lack of explanation also helps really show how much of a meathead Gideon is. Do the readers get to learn details about this thing? Only if it is a weapon, has tits, or Gideon is forced to listen while Harrow explains it. Otherwise no, why the fuck would Gideon spend her precious few brain cells on thinking?

And even if Gideon is forced to listen as Harrow explains it, the readers might not learn much cause Gideon might stop listening. I love her.

Aiglamene is wonderful. Crux is fine but I like her more.

Poor Gideon just wants a big sword that she can swing hard. It's not like she can't use a rapier. But why when she can go big sword?

SO MUCH CATHOLICISM

As someone who once was Catholic and then realized I was actually not a straight man, but instead a lesbian, I am in deep.

And the fucking slang used! Or whatever would be the right term. The shit they say! I love it. Just the weird sci-fi far future space necromancer universe and then suddenly "Are you asking me to . . . throw her a bone?", "Gideon had always known that this would be how she went: gangbanged to death by skeletons.", "Don’t hypothetically shove stuff up my butt again, it never does any good.", "Lo! A destructed ass.", "Well we were developing common sense, she studied the blade.", "Double Bones with Doctor Skelebone."

House of the First appears to be Earth. I kinda assume the House of the Ninth is Pluto, even though things obviously aren't in order given that the Seventh and Sixth are closer to the sun. Of course, I'm kinda expecting this to not technically be this solar system at all.

Undying Emperor, King of Resurrection, I Have Ten-Thousand Titles, Boss First, etc etc hasn't been on "Earth" in over nine thousand years. I wanna know MORE.

And the fucking Ninth House has their own prayer! Everyone else has one that the Ninth didn't know and then the Ninth had one that no one else knows! GIMME MORE!!!!

Also again, so many Catholicism metaphors or comparisons or whatever!

I could go on forever but gonna end this one with OH MY GOD SHE FOUND SUNGLASSES I LOVE HER. Fucking "I came prepared, my sweet." and "But then you couldn't have admired . . . these!" as she whips on the sunglasses. God. I nearly died.

#The Locked Tomb #tlt #Gideon the Ninth #Cairavende reads The Locked Tomb #Gideon Nav #Harrowhark Nonagesimus #Dulcinea Septimus #This might be the most lesbian thing I've ever read and I've read some pretty fucking lesbian things #Dulcinea might be my favorite so far

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an-aspiration · 9 months

Text

Friends with benefits

Warnings: cursing, detailed smut,eating out, vaginal penetration, bully (ehh)

Summary: y/n has an attitude for anyone who tries her. She pretty much keeps to herself when she’s not with her two best friends. Carl is a victim of her mean tendencies. But he sees through the mean act and tries something with her. 2.5k words

“y/n!”

you turned around to the sound of your name.

“Y/n.. guess what ” ron breathlessly spoke.

“What? Did something bad happen?”

“No b-“

“then what?” you spat

“I was about to tell you.. there are some new people..”

New people? there hasn’t been new people in ages. You thought they stopped searching because of how dangerous it would be finding absolute strangers from the wild and bringing them inside the gates.

“Does Joan know?” Your older sister, Joan, was Deana’s “assistant” and practically made sure everything going through to Deana, went by her first.

“Yeah she’s with them right now. Come on.”

You and Ron hurried over to the main gate where the newcomers had arrived. The first thing you noticed when you got over there was the look of struggle they all had on their faces, like they’d been through hell, even Aaron.

You came up from behind the small crowd to face your sister.

“Oh! Y/n introduce yourself” she spoke

You introduced yourself by turning around to smile at the people, then leant into Joans ear and whispered “I thought we weren’t letting crazies in anymore” exponentially loud.

She gave a nervous smile and turned to you “Be nice. And you have to listen to me I am your older si-“

“Step. Step sister.” You hissed “But fine I will ‘present’ myself the way you want me to.”

You turned your body towards the crowd. “Hi, I’m Y/n. I’m just so happy to welcome you to your new home.”

In return you got a few smiles. One in particular caught your eye. A boy with shoulder length hair and blue eyes. You adjusted your sleeves nervously.

“Oh wow I see you’ve got a little one with you! We have plenty of resources like strollers, baby food, and some other things for her.” Joan exclaimed

You hadn’t even noticed the baby lying in the boys arms. Immediately star struck, you went over to them and waved. “Oh my gosh.. Hi whats her name?”

“Hi I’m Carl, her name is judith.” he said with a soft grin.

“Nice to meet you Carl.” You looked back down at judith “awh poor baby”

“what?” He said, furrowing his brow

“oh, nothing” you sighed. You walked back over to Joan to let her know you would catch up with her later then strolled back home, happy with your first impression.

The next day you found out it wasn’t as good as you thought it was.

You were laying in the grass with your two best friends, gigi and arashi. They were cutting pages out of magazines to tape on their bedroom walls while you wrote in your journal.

“Have you seen that new guy with the brown hair?” Gigi said

“Yess, I love his eyes oh my gosh.”

“Arashi you have a boyfriend” You laughed

“So.. I can’t like a guys eyes?” She rolled her eyes joining the laughter

“Whatever. But whats his name anyway?”

“It’s Carl” You replied

“I heard his last name is Grimes” Arashi said

“Hmmm thats even better than what I was imagining” you giggled

“You were imagining it?”

“Stopp! I didn’t mean it like that… well i was though”

You looked up and saw Ron walking past.

“Hey ron!” you said in between laughs

“Hey”

“Woah hold on come back. Why the cold shoulder? You busy or something?”

“No I’m not busy its just” He sighed walking back over to you “I’m good friends with Carl now and I don’t think he’d feel very appreciated if I was talking to you”

You were confused “What why?”

“He thinks you’re stuck up because you said something about judith or whatever I don’t know.. but I got to go” He continued walking away

Stuck up? where did he get that from? You were being so nice to him.

“Woww, what a jerk. I actually don’t like his eyes anymore”

“Hah yeah me either.” You scoffed

“Oh my god. oh my god” Gigi looked down

“What, What?”

“Don’t look now- Dont look at all actually, but Carl is about to walk past.”

“What!” you whispered sitting up

“Don’t make it obvious” Arashi stressed

Something sparked inside of you, deciding you didn’t just want to get walked all over on. So you looked back and stared him down.

“Ooh watch out guys, crazy coming through.” You scoffed. If looks could kill he’d be down right now by the way you were looking at him.

Arashi and Gigi played along and giggled. He gave a blank expression, avoiding eye contact and brushed his fingertips along his jacket.

“Girl you are so bad!” Gigi giggled once he was out of earshot.

Later that week everyone in Alexandria was invited to a party to welcome all the new people.

“y/n are you ready yet, we have to go” Joan yelled from downstairs “Gigi and Arashi are waiting outside”

You did another coat of mascara before replying “Yeah coming!”

You all walked over to Deanas house in the warm evening air. You four entered the house and were greeted with a joyous scene of laughter and mingling. You nervously cracked your knuckles looking around.

“Ooh guys look a snack table” Gigi exclaimed

you all departed from Joan disappearing into the kitchen and pilling snacks onto one big plate.

“This is always nice you know. These little gatherings always make my day better. Remember the fourth of July one last year?” Arashi rambled

“How could I forget, it was so fun. I wish we could have lit fireworks but we all know how that would have went.” You said

“Yeahh”

You turned away from the countertop to see if Joan was having fun but you were immediately bumped in the shoulder by Carl going past.

“Watch where you’re going Carl”

“pfft” he kept walking toward the table where Ron Mikey and Enid sat

“Ron is such a hypocrite” Gigi said

“Yeah whatever we weren’t even that close anyway though so I dont care”

A part of you felt bad, because you knew you were only doing this to feel some sort of control over the fact that those people gave you a scary feeling like they were gonna cause something bad. Sometimes you even felt short of breath thinking of what would happen if something did happen in Alexandria, but a part of you hoped that carl would be the one to save you in that situation. He could be kinda hot when he was angry.

But you felt creepy and weird thinking like that because you knew after all this he would only hate you, even if you couldn’t help it.

Later that week

“Hey” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Joan.

“Yeah you. Come help load some stuff in again. I’ll be at Deana’s but Carl will help you again this time.”

“You’re joking right?”

“I’m not, just be nice okay? I probably won’t be back for a few hours we have some discussion to take care of, Love you”

“Whatever. Love you too”

You groaned as you got up to greet the one and only Carl. You could hear him struggling downstairs with something heavy.

“Hey careful with that!” You stated upon realizing he was trying to haul a mini sofa in by himself.

“I’ve got it”

“Yeah, no you don’t.”

You took the other side and almost successfully got it into the living room before he dropped his end, causing you to drop yours and smashing your pinky toe.

“OW” you heaved lifting up your foot “LOOK WHAT YOU DID DUMBASS ITS PROBABLY BROKEN”

“SORRY” he scrambled over to the freezer to get an ice pack “HERE”

It helped a lot and the pain started tremendously going down but the swelling was still there.

“Christ I need to lie down”

“It’s not even that serious”

“I need to lie down!!” you sharply said

“Okay fine here” He went to your un-wounded side and clung on to you helping you up the stairs into your bedroom.

“Ughhh”

“Is it that bad?” he was confused

“Yes it’s that bad. You know why? Because you did it and I don’t like you.”

“Yeah how could I forget you’ve reminded me everyday I’ve been here about how much you apparently don’t like me”

“Apparently? trust me I one hundred percent dont like you. You said I was stuck up and now look what you’ve done. I could break your ugly face in!” You said standing up. You took the liberty to get close to him and take a swing to slap him.

Before you could hit him, he caught your wrist.

“You’re pathetic.” he said squinting

“I am not. Just because you got me there doesn’t mean anything.” you sat down and crossed your legs

“Not just that.” he said

“Not just that? yeah what else?”

he went silent.

“I read it.”

“Read what..?” you froze

“your journal. It was open and I read it. You dont cross your legs and bite your lip out of spite. it’s because you like me, and you hate yourself for it.”

“You read my journal..??!” Your eyes widened and you took a step back. “When did you-“

“Last time I was here, you bailed and it was just sitting on the counter- open. I wanted to know what your fucking problem was.”

“I don’t like you!”

“really? Because you wrote a lot of lewd things about me in there. listen to yourself, seriously. You spend so much time pretending to hate me because of one thing I said, that you don’t even consider what I really think about you.”

He pulled you by your wrist and kissed you, deep. You guys went on no more than twenty seconds. Once he pulled away you stood frozen in shock.

“If you ‘don’t like me’ why did you kiss me back?” he challenged

“fuck it” you pulled him in and kissed him running your hands over his neck and into his hair.

He bit your lip and you pulled back out of surprise.

“ow what the fuck” as you were distracted he pushed you slightly onto your bed. As he was leaning back in you grabbed a hold of his belt loop. He hummed through the kiss. He began giving pecks to your neck and collarbone while tugging on your shirt.

“Carl…”

he knew what you wanted.

“Can I?” He was referring to your shirt.

“Yes” you whispered

He motioned to put your arms up and he slid your t-shirt off. His eyes wandered, approving of your bra.

He continued on taking off his shirt, then your jean shorts leaving you almost nude. He brushed his fingers along the sides of your bra before reaching behind to unclasp it, tossing it to the side.

His attention went back to your eyes, and he paused. “god your beautiful”

you felt like you melted right there on the spot.

“I-“

He noticed your loss for words and just continued looking you in the eye while he slowly grazed his hand down from your chest to your panty. He slid it off in seconds and you felt the cold air hit you.

“Please”

“Please what?” he mocked

“please… um touch me”

As soon as those words left your mouth he brought his fingers down to your clit and started rubbing small circles. You began to moisten even more than you already were.

“Oh god”

“fuck your pent up aren’t you?”

you nodded “Just relax for me ,i’ll make it feel good.”

Everything he said was stimulating you in ways you didn’t even know were possible making your breath go short.

He went in and started planting kisses on your clit.

You exhaled as the pleasure built.

“open your legs a little wider”

as you spread he began to lick up and down your cunt.

“that feels so good” you whimpered

He pushed his tounge into you and when your breath got heavier he hummed in approval. You were getting closer and he could tell.

“are you gonna come?”

“God yes”

he fastened his pace and added his thumb back onto your clit.

“ yes yes yes..”

He kept going until he found the spot that made you grind against his face.

“Oh carl god..” You dissolved into the pleasure as your vision started fading to black. The orgasm shook you as he worked you through it.

Your breath slowed down and he sat back up.

“Wow.”

“Your thighs are shaking so much.”

“Yeah” you panted.

You pulled him in for a lazy kiss, still dazed from what he just did to you.

You noticed his breath deepening and noticed the bulge in his pants. You moved your hand down to start working on his belt and zipper. Once only in his boxers you took a deep breath to prepare as his dick sprung out. You started running your hands up and down getting a low groan from him.

“Are you sure?” he asked

“Yeah I am, are you?”

“Yeah”

He positioned himself in line with your slit. He slowly slid in until he was all the way in. He waiting a second before the expression on your face rested before beginning to slide in and out at a medium pace.

You were both stuck in a euphoric state.

“Fuck”

You ground into him with his thrust causing that pressured feeling to come back.

“Damn do that again”

You both began to move in unison. Moans and pants filled the dimly lit room. Your legs began to ache in the position you currently were in.

“I wanna be on top.”

“What?”

“Let me ride you please”

He paused before getting from on top of you and laying against the bed frame. You climbed on top of him and slid it back in immediately finding your rhythm. You dug your nails into his arms from the way this position made you feel absolutely filled.

“Your doing so good for me”

His praise made your walls clench around him, a sign you were getting close.

“I Mmm-“

“I know, me too” he said breathlessly

You continued straddling him back and forth at a fast pace. You moaned so loud he leant in to silence you with a kiss, sliding his tounge in.

He once again hit your good spot making you gasp and form and O with your mouth.

“Oh my god” You came undone for the second time with him coming soon after. You laid your head and arms on his shoulders catching your breath. He ran his fingers through your hair gently before lifting you up and resting your back on the bed.

“Are you leaving?”

He snickered “You’re so needy even when I just fucked you”

“Don’t be mean”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just getting my clothes back on, so i can go downstairs and get you something to eat before we continue bringing your stuff inside.” He smiled

“Oh okay hurry please”

“Yeah”

You shivered bringing your head down onto the mattress with a thump. Wow. You looked over and saw your clothes laying across the floor you went to pick them up and get dressed as well, since you probably only had about an hour until Joan would be back and you still had furniture laying around downstairs.

You wobbled downstairs to see Carl with two mugs with ramen. Your favorite.

“How did you know I like ramen?”

“Your journal”

“oh.. right” you giggled

Once Joan was back you were both laying on the couch snuggled up and asleep.

“Hey!” she clapped

“Oh! hey Joan”

“You guys uh tired?”

“Yeah we just- well we did a lot of heavy lifting”

“Oh yeah? That couldn’t have taken the full three hours. What else did you guys do? Thought you would’ve kicked him out hours ago”

“Oh you know we were just talking and stuff” Carl replied “I should probably get home but I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“Okay”

While Joan wasn’t looking he gave you a quick kiss before heading out.

A/N!!!

Crazy? i was crazy once…

sigh. please request something and thanks for all the people who are reading I really appreciate you!! this was for the smut girlies I see you dw🩶

#carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes #carl grimes angst #carl grimes fic #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x you #carl grimes you #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes imagine

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heavyhitterheaux · 3 months

Text

Ghost Part 4

AN: 💕

Synopsis: The two of you have finally gotten on the same page regarding Ace and Jack has shown you that he's all in when it comes to his and Ace's relationship. However, he ends up taking one step forward and a hundred steps backward when your safety is compromised

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sitting in your car in front of your apartment building, you let out a loud sob that you had been holding in since the judge had made her decision.You were confident that she would rule in your favor, but the only thing or person on your mind rather was Ace.

He had gotten so used to seeing Jack often that you weren't quite sure how he was going to adjust to only being able to see him every other weekend. And you didn't know the first step in how to explain that to him and more than likely he probably wouldn't even understand. This was the last thing you wanted to ever happen, and you thought for sure that Jack would meet you halfway in order to do what was best for Ace, but once again his pride got in the way.

You had lost track of time and didn't know how long you were sitting in your car crying when you grabbed a tissue from your purse in order to wipe your face and make yourself look a bit more presentable. Blaire wasn't going to bring Ace back until later in the day and you still had some time to kill. It was simply decided that you would get into some comfy clothes and watch Disney plus because you figured that was probably the only thing that could somewhat lift your mood.

Before you started watching anything, you sent a simple message to the group chat since you knew that they had been waiting to hear from you.

You- I got full custody of Ace

Blaire- 👀👀👀

Nadia- As you should. What them child support payments looking like?

You- 40,000 a month

Liv- DAMN he actually got lucky. For a celebrity, I’ve heard of people paying a lot more than that.

Blaire- But how are you feeling overall?

You- Sad for Jack believe it or not

Liv- He got what was coming to him smh I don’t feel bad because he brought this on himself

Nadia- I second that

You- But now I have to tell Ace and I don’t know how he’s going to take it

Jack was in a daze driving home from the courthouse and the realization was hitting him that he didn't do anything but make things more complicated for himself. He had now driven a bigger wedge in between the two of you and knew deep down that no matter how much he apologized to you that it wouldn't be enough. He wanted to have a relationship with his son, but also wanted to have a healthy relationship with you too and at this point even getting you to talk to him was going to be a challenge.

He had gotten home and didn't realize that Clay had been following him and pulled up behind his car in the driveway. Jack sighed to himself not wanting to hear him say ‘I told you so’ again since he had a feeling that he would never let him live this down. He knows that he fucked up and doesn’t need to hear it over and over again.

Once he stepped out of the car, Clay was next to him with his hands stuffed in his pockets and simply looked at him.

“Clay, not now. Please not now.” Jack said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I'm just here for support. What just happened was a lot to take in and even though you've been treating me like shit the last few months, you're still my big brother and I still care about how you’re feeling.”

“I know and I'm sorry. I just… There isn't any excuse for the way I've been acting and treating you as if you're not important to me when you know that you are. I just want that close relationship that you have with Ace and I’m jealous of it and not afraid to admit it. You've been in his life since he was four weeks old and I can't say the same thing. Y/N is never going to forgive me now. I wish I would have talked to her when she gave me the chance.”

“That is literally all she has wanted from the very beginning. She never wanted it to get to this point and she actually low key thinks that you hate her.” Clay quietly said as they both walked into Jack’s house.

“What? I could never hate her. I don't hate her. Why would she think that? Never mind, don't answer that. I… get it.”

“And you failed to realize how this would affect Ace because he's the one that's at the center of this whole thing.”

“And now I can't even see him how I want to.”

“You now have to make it up to not only Ace but Y/N too.”

“And I don't have any idea on where to start.”

“You already know what you need to do and no one should have to tell you that. You can start by being the best father you can possibly be to Ace. This isn't rocket science, but you damn sure know how to make things more complicated. Are we sure that you’re even the older one at this point?” Clay asked while smirking and Jack gave him a small smirk in return and shrugged his shoulders.

Jack's mood had been off for the rest of the time that had passed until it was his weekend with Ace and he wanted to get himself together before you dropped him off. But he just couldn't shake this being his new reality. He knew now that he should have talked to you and simply let you explain, but his thoughts of you moving and taking Ace flooded his mind and that was the only thing that he could think of. But all in all, he just made a bigger mess.

He had sent you multiple text messages with you responding in ten words or less and it wasn’t because you were being mean or trying to spite him, you genuinely had no idea what to say to him at this point. Until you did, there was no reason for you to give him a longer response.

It was a little awkward when the person supervising the visit, Britney showed up at his house ten minutes before you were going to drop Ace off and knew that he had to prove to her and to the court that he could take care of Ace and take care of him properly. But most importantly, he wanted to prove it to you.

Once he saw your car pull up, he went outside to meet the two of you as you were helping Ace out of the back of the car. You were grabbing Ace’s backpack that had all of his toys (and told him that he could only bring three because Jack had an entire playroom in his house specifically for him) and clothes when you heard his voice.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi.” You responded while barely looking at him and took a deep breath before continuing to talk.

“His clothes, shoes, and toys are in here and I'll come and get him Sunday at 5.” Was all you said as you handed him Ace’s backpack and Ace was simply looking between the two of you.

“Um, okay.”

“Make sure he's ready by then for me to come and get him. Okay, Ace, give me kisses.”

You kneeled down to his height and he immediately embraced you and it seemed as if he was holding onto you as if he didn't want you to leave.

“Mommy, can you stay?” Ace asked as he pulled away from you.

“Ace, you're going to have fun with daddy and I'll see you in two days, promise.”

“And we can call mommy before you go to sleep.” Jack chimed in with an attempt to make it less awkward, but he knew that this was probably going to take a while.

“Will you sing to me when I do?” Ace asked, looking at you hopeful. Just about every single night, after the two of you read a book, you would sing him to sleep.

“Of course. Anything for my baby boy.”

—

“Daddy, you okay?” Ace asked Jack as he looked over at him and saw that he was staring off into space when they were supposed to be baking brownies. Peanut butter and chocolate, which he learned how to make from you which had now become his favorite.

“Oh, I'm fine. Now let's get this batter in the pan so we can watch a movie.” Jack answered as he ruffled Ace's curly hair that resembled his.

“Can we watch Cars!?”

“Of course we can and when our brownies are done, we have ice cream to go with them.”

“But you still look sad. Are you sad about mommy?” Hearing Ace say that made Jack's breath hitch and he simply sighed before saying anything else. To only be three almost four, Ace was incredibly smart and picked up on a lot of things that went on around him.

“You definitely notice everything, don't you?” He asked as Ace simply smiled and nodded.

“I hurt her and I don't think that she's ever going to forgive me.”

“Just say sorry. That should make it all better. Mommy has a big heart like me.”

“That she does, but I don't think that's going to be enough.”

“Well, I still think you should try.”

“Ace….”

“For me?” Ace asked while looking up at his father with eyes that resembled his.

“Now you know that I have a hard time telling you no. And stop with the puppy dog eyes!”

“So you’ll do it!?”

“I’ll try for you.”

The next few months came and went with the celebration of Ace turning four, and Jack having to do more and more appearances and fly around the country. When that happened, Ace would just stay with you until the next weekend that he was able to come and get him once he was back in Louisville, since he wasn’t allowed to take him across state lines yet. It was Friday afternoon and you were cleaning up your classroom as Ace was sitting at one of the tables coloring when he suddenly asked you about Jack.

“Mommy…”

“Yes?”

“Can daddy come over for a movie night?” He asked while turning around to look at you.

“Um, Ace we have to see. Daddy might be busy.” You said while grabbing your purse from underneath the desk and taking out your keys.

“Can we call him?”

“Sure, we can call him once we get outside in the car. Come here so I can help you put your jacket on. We can finish coloring at home.”

Ace was secured in the back of the car when you slid into the driver’s seat and attempted to turn the car on. The only problem was that it wouldn’t.

“You can’t be serious right now.” You muttered to yourself as you lightly laid your head on the steering wheel. Liv had taken a half day today in order to go to a few doctor’s appointments so you know that you couldn’t call her. Nadia would still be at work, and Blaire didn’t close the bakery until seven.

So, that left one person.

Jack.

You sighed as you dialed his number and he picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? Y/N? Are you okay? Is Ace okay?”

“Hey, we’re fine. But I need a favor. Are you at home?” You mumbled because you didn’t like asking him for help, but at this point you needed it.

“Of course. Yeah, I just got back in. What’s going on?” Jack asked as he was looking for the Chinese take out menu from his favorite spot.

“I’m at work with Ace and my car decided that it doesn’t want to start.”

“Say less. Drop me the location and I’ll come get both of you.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry to ask, but….”

“No need to apologize. I’m on my way now.”

It took less than twenty minutes and you finally saw Jack’s jeep pull up beside you and this made Ace yell in excitement.

“Looks like you get to see daddy after all, huh?” You said as you peeked at him in the backseat and he excitedly nodded towards you.

Jack hopped out while coming over to you and opening your door.

“Thank you again for doing this.” You said and Jack simply waved you off.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N.”

“I didn’t take you away from anything did I?”

Jack immediately shook his head no as he opened the back door and unstrapped Ace from his car seat and picked him up.

“Hi daddy. I told mommy to call you because I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bubs.” Jack answered before kissing his cheek and putting him in

His car seat in the back of his jeep. Jack then opened the passenger side door and helped you up, while putting your purse and work bag in the backseat. Once he slid in the driver’s seat, he started making his way back to your apartment.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“What do you want to eat? I was actually going to order Chinese food for dinner. Did you want that?”

“Yes! I want an egg roll!”

Only now you noticed that he was going in the opposite direction.

“Umm? Jack? My apartment is that way.”

“I know.”

“Then where are we going?”

“I want to show you something and I figured that this was a good time in order to do it.”

He glanced over at you and saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but to laugh.

“No kidnapping involved, promise.”

It was another fifteen minutes when you noticed that all of you were literally a few streets over from where Jack’s house was. He then pulled in front of a modern looking house and it looked as if it had just been built and no one had the chance to live in it quite yet. You looked around and saw that there were others similar to it and that it looked like they were building more.

“Jack? What is this? Where are we?” You asked not having the slightest clue on what was going on.

“This is your house.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him in disbelief. You looked out the window at the house before looking back at him and was clearly confused.

“I…”

“I don’t want you two in that neighborhood anymore because it’s not the safest. This way, Ace can go outside and play all he wants and I don’t have to worry about you two not being in a safe environment. This is a gated community so unless you have the passcode, you can’t get in.”

“Jack….. You bought us a house?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t accept this, how in the world am I going to pay for it?” You asked as a million things started going through your mind.

“No one said you had to pay for anything. You need more space, even if it’s just the two of you.”

“But….”

“Y/N, it’s a gift. No strings attached. It’s fully furnished and everything.”

You sat there for a minute before glancing back at Ace who was too busy playing with one of his toys to notice you.

“Come on, let’s go inside so you can at least look at it.” He said while holding up the keys and smiling at you.

“Is this a ploy to get me to stay in Louisville?” You asked, suddenly getting defensive because of his previous actions.

“No, not in the slightest. If that’s what you eventually want to do, then okay but this house will still be here and still be yours. Just while you’re here I figured that the two of you should be as comfortable as possible. And also that you would have probably said no if I asked the two of you to move in with me so it would be safer knowing that you would probably want your own space. You don’t have to move in immediately, but come on so we can at least look at it.”

“Okay.” You quietly said before taking off your seatbelt and getting out the car as Jack did the same thing while tending to Ace after.

All three of you walked through the house and you were in awe. Ace’s bedroom had a Louisville Cardinal theme since that happened to be his favorite team right along with his dad, while your room had a black and gray theme. Ace had his own playroom filled with toys and even a mini kitchen with a working stove that was perfect for his height.

“Ace, don’t you like this house and want to live here with mommy?” Jack asked as Ace had begun examining the stove and the little apron that was hanging to the side that had his name on it which was similar to the one that you bought for him.

“Yes! I like it.”

All Jack did was look at you, but you still had hesitations in the back of your mind. It was true that you and Jack were growing close again and working on being good co-parents to Ace, but you couldn’t take him possibly doing something to mess all of this up all over again. Before either of you made a decision regarding him, you would call each other and discuss it first. This just seemed all too much for you and you were overwhelmed.

You remained quiet as Jack simply laid the keys in your hand and closed it.

“Whenever you’re ready, there is absolutely no rush. Please understand that. And also understand that I’m trying to do my best to make up for what I’ve done or what I haven’t done rather. I just want to do right by the two of you.” He whispered so that only the two of you could hear and all you did was nod in response before Jack went to scoop Ace up in his arms.

“Bubs, you ready to go to daddy’s house and eat Chinese food?”

“As long as we watch Cars!”

“Uh? Again?”

“This is nothing compared to his Lion King phase.” You muttered as all three of you made your way back downstairs.

“Oh, one last thing. Let’s go this way.” Jack then led you both in the direction of the garage and your jaw dropped once you set foot in it.

“Didn’t realize that your car was going to give out on you today, but… surprise.” was all Jack said as you were now staring at a BMW SUV. When you and Jack had first started talking, you told him that this was the car that you eventually wanted to buy for yourself and had no idea that he actually remembered.

“Jack….”

He didn’t say anything and instead slipped his hand in his back pocket to get the keys and hand them to you.

“Ace can ride with me while you test out your new car.”

About another month had passed and the temperature was beginning to warm up and you couldn’t wait to be able to take Ace out all summer and was trying to think of where you wanted to go and wanted to do. You also made sure to include Jack in your plans if he wasn’t too busy. You had the night to yourself since Ace was with Jack and you were currently fiddling the house key in your hands that Jack had bought you. He told you that it was no rush and you were deciding to take your sweet time. As far as the lease for your apartment went, Jack said if you wanted to break it, he would pay for it. But at this point in time, you feel that he already did so much for you already and would probably just ride it out until it was time for it to be renewed again. However, just about every day after you were finished teaching, you would take the long way home to pass by it.

It was around midnight when you had gotten a text on your phone from Nadia and it seemed urgent.

Nadia- Go look at Jack’s instagram…. NOW

You- Why? What’s wrong?

Nadia- HE POSTED YOUR FACE, THAT’S WHAT’S WRONG!

Your heart was now doing backflips as you logged into your instagram app to see that he did indeed post you and now thoughts were beginning to run rampant.

Liked by urbanwyatt, estgee, champagnepapi, 2forwoyne, taylorrooks, saweetie, and 1,200,154 others

jackharlow: Y/N, thank you for being just an amazing mother to my son who has wanted for nothing ever since he came out of the womb. I'm thankful that we're in a better place with one another and keeping him at the center of it because at the end of the day, he's the most important part of this. I can't change the past and what went down between us, but I can move forward and do what's best for the both of you.

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You wasted no time in texting him wanting to address this and how incredibly dangerous it was.

You- Jackman, I’m coming over because we need to talk

Jack- Is everything okay?

You- No, everything is not. I’m getting dressed now

Jack was waiting at the door for you once your car pulled behind his jeep in the driveway and he could tell that you were fuming. He simply stepped aside to let you squeeze past him as you went to sit down on the couch in the living room. All Jack did was come and sit next to you waiting to hear what you had to say.

“Y/N?”

“Why did you post that?”

“Because I figured you deserved a public apology. I just wanted to show how appreciative I was of you and how important our relationship is.”

“Do you not understand what you just did? First, those pictures that were taken were for your birthday and for your eyes only and I actually forgot that I even took them until now. Second, Jack, I have an Only Fans. Did you not put two and two together?! NOW PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHAT I LOOK LIKE AND MAKE THE CONNECTION! I hardly show my face on there, but I have some videos where I do!”

“I….”

“I could lose my job over this! And that’s exactly what I was afraid of! Even if it was a few years ago, they aren’t going to see it that way.”

“Wait, your Only Fans is still active!?” Jack asked curiously, but all you did was roll your eyes.

“Is that really all you got out of that?! Yes, it’s still active! Any time if I was in a bind or needed money, I would upload videos to get paid for it!”

“Why, when you could’ve asked me?! You need to deactivate it and how was I supposed to know you still had it?! All I was trying to do was something nice for you. I swear that I can never win with you!”

“I’m not deactivating anything because that would literally be how me and Ace would eat some days when you were nowhere to be found.”

“Well, I’m here now! You don’t have to worry about that anymore! Anything you want or need, I’ll get it!”

“Every time I need something, I’m not going to run to you and ask for it. We’re not in a relationship anymore or did you forget?”

“I… well what if I want us to be?!”

This had you taken aback and you simply looked at him in disbelief as you shook your head.

“Jack…..”

“Please Y/N, just give me another chance. I’ll delete the post and make this right and I’m sorry for doing that without clearing it with you first. I compromised your safety and you know that was never my intention.”

“It is literally only a matter of time before someone finds my account.” You muttered without giving Jack an answer.

“I can delete it.”

“But not before almost a million people liked it. The damage is done so it doesn’t even matter at this point.”

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow x you

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hellishattempt · 4 months

Text

𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 - the girl in new york

cr sybbatra on twitter, sourced from pin

🢥 summary : celebrity!au gojo satoru and rumours swirling around your established relationship, 3.1k words 🢥 series includes : choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru, gojo satoru and nanami kento, part one of five 🢥 content : celebrity!au, gn reader, angst mostly, established relationship, cheating, paps being an ass, lying, use of baby/love/darling and other pet names, song cr goes to nessa barrett, not proofread lol kinda just wrote this instead of studying for exams. don't like the ending, but i never do.

. . . GOJO SATORU SEEN WITH ANOTHER WOMAN AT NYFW was not the headline you wanted to wake up to. it was a lazy saturday morning, and you didn't have any plans for the day. your boyfriend, the prominent gojo satoru, was currently in new york for fashion week. you had been dating for almost a year, having met a little over six years ago at club heaven in los angeles on his birthday by pure accident. the japanese born model had been dragged to america for his twenty first birthday, and spilled his drink on you. he hasn't left the states since. he's established himself in the modeling world, and fashion week was the busiest time of year for him. being a singer / songwriter yourself, you had quite the busy schedule. your bustling schedules were part of the reason it took so long for you and satoru to get together. there was mutual pining, but you both spent so much of your time in different cities and airports, that there seemed to be no point in it. but geto made a joke that if satoru didn't bag you, then he would, and that about did it for satoru. sure, dating hasn't been easy, but you've made it work. satoru had moved in with you in your luxury apartment in the hills of los angeles, though neither of you were there often. after all, you were both a lister celebrities. everyone knew your names, especially the paparazzi.

neither of you were big fans of the paps, satoru especially. you tried to show grace, after all, they were just trying to do their jobs. but their jobs were to be nosy and wrongfully invade your privacy. there were always headlines about you and satoru, the rumours and scandals never seemed to end, but for some reason, this one hit home. your phone read 10:01 a.m. you were in your los angeles apartment, so you were three hours behind satoru. you didn't have any notifications from him, which was weird, because he usually made a point to send you a good morning text before you woke up, no matter what timezone you were in. even if it meant satoru had to set an alarm for two a.m. so that you would wake up with a "good morning, baby," then he would set an alarm. in fact, the only notification you had was a text from shoko, with a link to the article. "have you seen this??" her text read. you clicked the link and it opened a separate page for people magazine. it took all your strength not to roll your eyes. people was your number one enemy when it came to tabloids. they always fabricated such stupid things, so you didn't think much of it at first. still, you read the article word for word.

"gojo satoru was seen today eating lunch with fellow model, iori utahime, at new york's own per se. gojo and iori have been friends for a while now, but are they more?" you scoffed, adjusting yourself in your large bed, continuing on. "gojo and irori are currently in new york for fashion week, and were photographed outside per se for a late lunch before tonight's opener. the photos were quickly posted, and the response was a mix of emotions. in the string of photos, we see gojo and iori sharing a laugh... while holding hands? in a few, his arm was tightly wrapped around iori's waist as he escorts her out of the restaurant. a few nights prior, photos had of gojo and iori sharing drinks at an elite club on eighth had been released, where they seemed more than friendly. that same night, the took shared a taxi, stumbling into the hotel together. social media shares our reply: has gojo's partner seen this and what do they have to say about it?" the article was short and sweet, but it did the trick. the photos had been attached, as well as a slew of twitter posts. #satohime was the third trending tag on twitter. tears stung your eyes as you white-kunckled your phone in your hand.

you were torn between believing and not believing the article. you knew satoru would never cheat on you, but the evidence was right in front of you. he was out with another woman, someone he's known longer than you, holding hands and wrapping himself close to her. you'd never met utahime, but satoru always returned from fashion week, brimming with stories about her that made him laugh until his stomach cramped. you knew they were close, despite only seeing each other twice a year, they'd grown up together. you tried to tell yourself that maybe it was just a rumour, photos taken out of context. after all, it wasn't anything drastic, like a vulgar makeout video, but it still made you sick. so you did the only thing you knew hot to when it come to your emotions: you wrote a song.

. . . NEW UPLOAD : THE GIRL IN NEW YORK flashed across gojo satoru's screen. it was a youtube notification for your channel. he frown slightly at the words, wondering what you were thinking about when writing this. he was at work right now, so he silenced his phone. satoru would listen to the song on the cab ride back to his hotel. he hadn't heart about the people's magazine yet, despite it being published six hours ago. satoru had been so busy with the fashion week presentations and rehearsals, that lunch with utahime had been the first time in a few days he'd left skylight clarkson. in fact, he'd been so busy, that he'd forgotten to charge his phone the night before. it was currently charging, thanks to utahime letting him borrow hers. satoru felt bad for failing to send you a text, but surely you'd understand if it was just one time. utahime wasn't a model like satoru, instead a manager for one of the labels. fashion week in februar and september were some of the only times they saw each other anymore. every february they swore they'd try to see each other more that year, but sepember would always be the second time they saw each other that year. their schedules just didn't allow for it. and even though satoru was a major pain in the ass to utahime, she prized his friendship. they made a point to spend as much time together during fashion week as possible, hence the drinks and lunch.

when the night had finally ended, satoru was exhasted and couldn't wait to return to his hotel bed. it wasn't as good as sleeping next to you, but he could fall asleep on a bag of dirt at this point. satoru stumbled into a taxi, giving the location of his hotel, and pulled his phone from his bag. it was charged now, and your youtube notification sat prettily on his lockscreen, which was a picture of you laughing with your head thrown back. satoru fumbled in the dark of the cab to find his headphones, finally pairing them to his phone and playing the song. "bags in your hand as you kiss me, tellin' me you're gonna miss me. promised me you'll be on you best behavior." your sultry voice entered his ears as the song started slow, a gentle piano and slow guitar riff. "gave me your flight information, call me when you land, say you made it. sweet little me told you, 'go have a good time.'" the song picked up the pace, transitioning into the pre-chorus and chorus. "i didn't mean forget about me, riding in a yellow taxi. who the hell are you on your way to?" satoru was almost too tired to notice the lyrics. almost. "you said i was yours, but maybe just on the west coast, cause as soon as you left home, you got wandering eyes.

"so i guess you lied when you called me special. you're not as smart as you think you are. who the hell is she, taking you from me?" as the song continued, he was more awake with every bar. "fuck you for making me crazy, while you buy her drinks out on eighth street." were you talking about utahime? wait, did you think he had done something? satoru was so confused, consumed by your obscure lyrics. the song ended too soon for his taste, none of his questions being answered by your final line. "baby, i know about the girl in new york..." your voice faded, his headphones going silent. having reached the hotel, satoru rushed to his room, immediately opening his laptop to do some digging. his phone had been silence all day, and when satoru opened his messages app to see if you had said anything, he was instaed hit with over three hundred texts from shoko and suguru. neither sounded happy with him, while satoru still had no idea what he did. before even acknowledging their texts, he went straight to your conversation. "darling, what's going on with your new song??" he typed out quickly, then added, "not that i don't love it! just kinda confused." he watched as delivered turned to read, which resulted in those damn three dots making two additional appearances before completely disappearing. satoru let out a groan of frustration, going to google and searching your names together. the first thing that popped up was an article from people magazine. "gojo satoru seen with another woman at nyfw." the headline read. fuck, how he hated the paparazzi.

satoru skimmed the article, not pleased with what he was reading. his confusion dissipated into annoyance, both towards you and the fucking paps. you always told him to be nicer towards the media, they were just trying to their job, but these fucking rumours were getting out of hand. how dare they make you think he would ever cheat on you? satoru didn't suffer a friendship with you for five years while being enamored with you every action for one damn article about him and utahime. all of those pictures had been taken out of context. the one where they were holding hands? utahime had tripped on a sewer grate and satoru had reached out so she didn't fall flat on her face. the one with his arm around her waist? they were both completely shitfaced and barely standing on their own. the ones about them at the club and the taxi? satoru can handle a drink or two, but uta gets hammered after two drinks, so of course he was going to take her back to her hotel and make sure she got up all right. that's what friends are for. but now, thanks to the media, he's got a lying article, pissed off friends and a song tearing him to pieces written by the love of his life, who may not ever want to see him again. great, just fucking great.

he dialed your number. you declined it before the first ring. he did this four more times, with you rejecting the call instantly. on the sixth call, there was no rings, and an automated voice responded, "i'm sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not in service or temporarily disconnected. please try again later. good bye." oh my god, you fucking blocked him. irritated with you, the media and with himself for making you feel so insecure, he scrolled to his group chat with shoko and suguru. neither of them were happy with gojo. he didn't bother to read all their messages, he got the gist of it. satoru hastily responded, "i didn't fucking cheat. the article's lying. one of you need to tell them that because i'm fucking blocked." he sent the message, standing in a silent fury. a moment later, satoru threw his phone at the wall with a yell. the device bounced off, falling onto the hotel bed. there was a small dent in the wall nothing extremely noticeable, and his phone was fine. "fuck," satoru breathed, sinking into one of the chairs in his room. he held his head in his hands, mind racing with what to do. an idea formed in his frustrated mind. it was stupid, but it was something. satoru grabbed his jacket and his phone from the bed, storming out of the hotel.

. . . THE SOUND OF SOMEONE POUNDING ON YOUR DOOR pulled you from delirium. groggily, you checked your phone. it was just past four am. who the hell would be at the door at four in the morning? you rolled over in bed, hoping whoever it was would go away. they didn't. they just kept beating at the wood. with a groan, you rose from the mattress. a headache slammed into you as you stood, and you had to sit back down to steady yourself. the last eighteen hours hadn't exactly been fun. after you uploaded "the girl in new york", you had turned your notifications for everything off. although, every five minutes you checked if satoru had texted you. when he finally did, you didn't know how to respond, the images from the article flashing across your mind and filling you with sickness and sadness. you had been out all day, drinking and trying to forget. after getting kicked out of two bars, you went home, where you drank more. throughout the night you emptied the contents of your stomach and eyes, vomiting and crying more than what felt humanely possible. it felt like you had barely lied down when the knocking began.

when you had mustered the strength to stagger your way to the door, you wished you had stayed in bed. a red eyed, messy haired, heaving gojo satoru stood at your door. neither of you spoke. what was there to say? he had cheated on you. you had retaliated with an exposing song. or maybe he hadn't cheated on you, and you simply misunderstood. either way, what had happened, happened. as far as you were concerned, he was here to beg for your forgiveness. you began to shut the door, but he stopped you. with a sigh, you let him in. it was his apartment, too, after all. you wobbled to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and pouring yourself a glass of water. satoru watched you in silence. "well?" you croaked out. "come to apologize? gloat?"

"baby..." he whispered, stretching his arms out to you, but retracting when you took a step back. satoru took a breath, steadying himself. "i didn't cheat," he stated plainly. "i know you think i did. but i didn't. uta is just a friend. i've never thought of her that way, and i'm never going to think of her like that. i'm not dating her, i'm dating you." his words sounded slightly reheards. he must've been practicing on his flight here. it dawned on you that it was four in the morning in los angeles, and seven a.m. in new york. satoru was missing fashion week, here, trying to fix things. a flight from nyc to la was just over six hours, so he would've had to get on a plane by one am est. he had texted you just after eight fifty p.m. pst, so eleven fifty new york time. which means almost as soon as he heard your song, he was on his way to the airport to fly to you. "please baby, you gotta believe me. those paps fucked everything up, the photos-"

"are they fake?" you cut him off. "the photos. are the fake? photoshopped or otherwise edited?"

gojo slightly squirmed, "well, no, they're not edited, but they were taken out of context." he rushed out the last part of his sentence. "please, love, just hear me out."

he looked like a disaster. satoru's normally bright irises were dim, the usual joy gone. he looked sleepless, violent violet bags forming like bruises under his red-rimmed eyes. his fluffy white hair was flat against his forehead, matted and lifeless. he was still in his work clothes, with his favorite blue jacket hanging open on his shoulders. satoru looked like he hadn't ate or slept in the last eighteen hours. maybe it was how pitiful he looked maybe it was how much you still loved him. but you nodded your head, allowing for satoru to explain. his sigh was audible, and some color returned to his eyes.

"okay, first, i love you so fucking much. i've loved you since that first night we met into the bar six years ago. if you don't forgive me tonight, or ever, i'm still going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the hurt that i've cause you from that stupid article. i didn't cheat on you, not with utahime or with anyone else. i spent five years trying to work up the nerve to ask you out, i'm not going to let you go easily." satoru meant every word he said, his tone convinced you of that. "second," he continued, "is that the paparazzi are always pulling things out of their asses, we know this. the first photo they talked about, the one with me and utahime at per se, where we were holding hands? her heel had got caught on a sewer grate, and uta tripped. i grabbed her hand to prevent her falling on her face, which honestly, would've been funnier." you chuckled lightly, and a smile formed on satoru's lips. from his perspective, this was going much better than he had anticipated. "the next photo with my arm around her waist, utahime was so drunk, she could barely stand. i was pretty drunk, too. we were the only ones keeping each other up. same with the pictures of us outside the club on eighth. i wasn't as drunk in that one, but she was pretty hammered. i didn't feel comfortable just sending uta off in a cab back to her hotel. something easily could've happened to her, so i went back with utahime to her hotel. nothing happened between me and her," satoru finished. quiet settled over you two again as you contemplated his words.

everything he said made sense. you wanted to believe him so badly, but you weren't there yourself. "okay," you said slowly, after what felt like an eternity to satoru.

"okay? wh-what does that mean? does... does that mean you believe me?"

you took a deep breath. "i believe you."

those three words were all he needed to hear. satoru rushed over to you, his body engulfing you in a crushing embrace. "oh, thank god," he breathed into your hair. when he pulled back, his blue eyes were shining once again. satoru almost kissed you, forgetting his exhaustion, but your hangover still gripped at you. you winced at his strength, your arms hanging limply at your side. satoru whispered out an apology, guiding you back to bed. before you both finally found the sleep you desperately needed, you mumbled, "i'm sorry about the song."

satoru laughed quietly, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "don't be, i think it's your best one yet."

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pinchofhoney · 1 year

Text

the last goodbye, part two

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

« part one | part two

pedro pascal x fem!reader

world count: 5.2k

warning: angst, age gap (the reader is in her mid 20s), mention of smoking, mention of drinking alcohol

summary: All men do is messing with your head.

a/n: i’m incredibly proud of myself that the first part evoked such emotions in you. i was totally not expecting this, as i wrote it at a time when i wasn’t in a good place mentally, feeling terrible after losing my pet. if you feel disappointed by the lack of gripping action, i apologize (not really). i don't want to rush things, i want their emotions to sink into your soul✨

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @babypeapodd @domaniquessidehoe @one-sweet-gubler @danelhi @pedroholicx @rosaliedepp @phoenixinthewater @blu3flame @hummusxx @onceandfuturereader @marysucks-blog @sloanexx @nxt-zen @secretdazeobservation

As you slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, your tired eyes flickered open, gradually adjusting to the blinding brightness of the white ceiling looming above you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to shake off the weariness that clung to your body like a heavy blanket. It was difficult to tell how many hours you had slept, but it certainly didn't feel like enough.

You shifted your weight and let out a groan as your muscles protested against the movement. The events of the past few days had been a whirlwind, leaving you drained and achy. It's funny how mental anguish can affect your body. With a sense of resignation, you rolled over onto your side, wincing at the pain that shot through your joints. Your hand fumbled around in the air until it found the offending alarm clock, blaring its obnoxious tune throughout the bedroom.

You muttered a curse under your breath as you pressed the button to silence the alarm. Despite your reluctance to start the day, you knew that you couldn't afford to linger in bed any longer. With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress and forced yourself to stand up. Another day, another- You wished you could say slay, but not today. Another set of challenges to face? More likely.

As you sluggishly made your way towards the bathroom, thoughts of Pedro crept back into your mind. It had only been two weeks since he broke up with you, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was still raw and fresh, and you struggled to make sense of it all.

Every moment you had shared with him played out in your mind like a movie, and you analyzed each one, searching for some clue, some sign of what went wrong. But it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces – there was no explanation, no clear reason why he had ended things so abruptly.

You had loved him with all your heart and trusted him like no one before, but in the end, he had shattered your heart into a million pieces, leaving you to pick up the fragments and try to put them back together. The moment Pedro said those fateful words, the trust you had built up in him crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. And now, you found yourself spiraling into an absurd mania, constantly questioning whether anyone in your life would leave you just like he did.

The fear of being abandoned consumed you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that everyone you cared about was destined to disappear. It was a toxic mindset, but it was deeply ingrained in you since childhood and one that you couldn't seem to escape.

On the one hand, you wanted to reach out to your friends, to let out all the pain and heartbreak that you've been holding in, but at the same time, you didn't want to burden them with your problems or risk pushing them away, so instead, you buried your emotions deep inside, hiding behind a mask of indifference and detachment. It was easier that way, at least you tried to tricked yourself in believing it was. But the truth was, the pain was eating away at you from the inside out, and you didn't know how much longer you could keep up that fake smile.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to the days when you were happy and carefree, but you knew that wasn't possible. All you could do was try to pick up the pieces and move forward, even though it felt like an impossible task.

Your days had become a blur of schoolwork and long shifts at the movie theater. It was a grind, but it kept you busy and distracted from the pain of your shattered heart. At least, that's what you thought, again.

Despite your best efforts to move on, your mind kept drifting back to Pedro. Every time you walked by the coffee shop where you used to have your morning cup of coffee with him, you couldn't help but look inside, hoping he would be there. You even went inside a few times, ordered a coffee, and sat down, pretending to read a book or browse your phone, all while stealing glances around the room. But he was never there, and you always left feeling disappointed and foolish.

Even going to the gym in the evenings, which used to be your solace, had become a source of anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that everyone there knew about your breakup with Pedro and was silently judging you. As you ran on the treadmill, you felt self-conscious and exposed, as if all your flaws and vulnerabilities were on display for everyone to see.

And yet, despite all of this, you still couldn't resist the urge to go to the places where you used to go with Pedro. You found yourself walking past his favorite pizza place, just to catch a whiff of the familiar scent of marinara sauce and melted cheese. You even drove by his street once, just to see if his car was parked outside his house. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn't help yourself. The pain of losing him was too great, and the thought of never seeing him again was almost unbearable.

Actually saying that you will never see him again was an overstatement. Despite the heartbreak he had caused you, he was the hottest topic in entire Hollywood and beyond. His star power had skyrocketed, and his charming looks and hoarse laughter made (not only) teenage girls swoon all over the world. His photos and videos seemed to be everywhere, constantly popping up on your Instagram and Twitter feeds, taunting you with reminders of what you had lost. He was a viral sensation, and it was impossible to escape the constant barrage of Pedro's updates – a stark reminder that he was out there living his life while you were struggling to move on.

You stood in front of the mirror, studying your reflection with a heavy heart. Your once bright eyes were now surrounded by a rim of redness, and dark circles that looked like bruises appeared to have taken permanent residence beneath them. Your hair was a mess, its strands sticking out in every direction, as if it was trying to mimic the chaos you felt inside. Your skin was pale and lifeless, a far cry from its former glowing self. Just fourteen days ago, you were a different person, filled with happiness, with Pedro by your side. And now, everything was in shambles.

You shook off the memories and forced yourself to focus on the present, on getting dressed and making it to your classes on time. It was a challenge, but you tried to keep thoughts of Pedro at bay, knowing that dwelling on the past would only make the pain worse. You grabbed your bag, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles.

As you stepped out into the blinding glare of the sun, the sounds of the bustling city enveloped you. Cars honked, people chatted, and a cool breeze caressed your face, but everything seemed distant and unimportant. You repeated to yourself the mantra to take things one step at a time, hoping that each step would lead you closer to healing the wounds Pedro had done to you.

But little did you know, he was also battling his own demons, struggling to come to terms with his actions and the hurt he had caused you. It was a cruel irony that both of you were struggling in your own ways, and neither of you knew the full extent of the other's pain.

“Pedro?” the sound of his own name snapped him out of the recesses of his head and effectively brought him down to earth. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the bright lights shining in his direction. Looking around, he realized he was on the set of the advertisement he was working on.

The confused director approached him, placing his hands on his hips in a pretentious position. “What's going on, man?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “It's just a minute clip, all you have to say right now is to catch grandma, you have to think like grandma,” he threw his hands in the air in exasperation, then placed the fingers of one hand on the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Pedro tried to focus on the director's words, but his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He couldn't believe how he had treated you a day after your first anniversary, telling you that he suddenly stopped having feelings for you and breaking your heart. The day after the anniversary, which he didn't even show up for, because he didn't have the courage to do so. To look into your smiling eyes, having in the back of his mind what he had been planning for some time. The guilt was eating him alive, and he found himself replaying the scene of your breakup in his head over and over again.

He remembered very well how your face crumpled with sadness and confusion as he told you the news. How you asked him to reconsider, to give your relationship another chance. How you cried and asked him what you had done wrong. He didn't have the answers then, and he still didn't have them now.

Pedro's heart simply sank as he realized that he had made a mistake the very next day after the breakup. He had let go of someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who had been there for him through thick and thin. And for what? Because he suddenly stopped feeling the way he used to? He couldn't even be sure if that was true. Perhaps it was just a minor crisis that he could have resolved if he had spoken to you honestly.

The director ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You know what, Pedro? Take a break. Get some fresh air and clear your head. We can't afford to waste the whole day on this stupid phone game ad. Let's reconvene in 20 minutes,” he barked, his irritation palpable. Without bothering to wait for Pedro's response, he stormed off, leaving Pedro.

His eyes flitted around the room, taking in the frustrated expressions of the crew members. They had all been waiting for him to get his lines right, but he had been too distracted to focus on the task at hand. He was wasting the time and resources of his colleagues and he felt ashamed because of that.

As the director snapped out orders to the rest of the team, Pedro swiped his hand over his tired face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath his fingertips. He let out a deep sigh, feeling drained both physically and emotionally. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what could have been, of what he had lost because of his own recklessness. He needed some space to clear his head.

Without a word, he left the building and made his way out to the back of one of the buildings in Los Angeles. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the set. He let out a long breath, trying to calm himself.

It wasn't easy to pretend that everything was fine in front of everyone, because it wasn't. Every day it became harder and harder for Pedro to put on a brave face and act like he was okay. He dug out a pack of cigarettes from his blazer pocket and blindly stared into it. He quickly found the lighter in the other pocket and with his slightly shaking hand, he lit the cigarette. The familiar smell and taste of nicotine filled his senses, providing a temporary escape from the overwhelming emotions that consumed him. He leaned against the rough dirt wall of the building, the sound of the bustling city muffled in the distance. The smoke filled his lungs, choking him slightly, but he welcomed the pain, as it was a distraction from the pain in his heart.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn't silence the voices in his head, telling him that he had made a huge mistake by ending things with you. The breakup had hit him harder than he ever imagined it could. He missed you so much, and the regret ate away at him with each passing day. He took another long drag of the cigarette, the tip glowing red.

Despite the comfort that the cigarette provided, Pedro knew it was a bad habit. He had managed to quit a while ago, but the stress of recent events had caused him to slip back into it. He felt guilty for indulging in it again, but at the same time, he didn't care. All he wanted was to forget his troubles, even if it was just for a little while.

Every single day during those two weeks, Pedro's thoughts were consumed by the image of him standing in front of you, while cup your face with his hands and apologizing for everything. He imagined the words he would say to you, begging for your forgiveness and hoping that you would take him back. But as much as he longed to make things right, he was too much of a coward to actually face you. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and see the disappointment he had caused, so he actively avoided all the places where he knew he could potentially run into you. The mere thought of seeing you filled him with a mix of intense longing and paralyzing fear.

He held onto the belief that you wouldn't be able to forgive him and the thought of being rejected by you was too much to him. The fear of embarrassment kept him from reaching out and trying to make amends, even though he knew deep down that he wanted nothing more than to be back in your warm embrace. The possibility of facing your disappointment and disapproval was a daunting prospect, and so he chose to continue avoiding you, hoping that time would eventually make him forget about you.

The sound of a notification coming from his phone snapped him back to reality and he opened his eyes. He fished the device out of his pants pocket and glanced at the screen, noticing a message from his friend, Oscar. He took a drag on the cigarette he had been smoking and read the message.

I was thinking about this birthday party. Do you want me to cancel the invitation for Y/N? – The Grumpy Eagle, sent at 3:14pm.

Pedro had completely forgotten about Oscar's upcoming birthday celebration, which he and his wife Elvira hosted every year. It was a small party, but it had become an annual tradition among their circle of friends. He knew that both of you had been invited long before the two of you broke up, and it was pretty obvious anyway, since he was Oscar's best friend and you had quickly become a favorite of Oscar's wife and kids.

He took another drag on his cigarette, thinking on response. Pedro wasn't sure if you would show up, but he knew that you disliked disappointing people, and skipping out on someone's birthday party would undoubtedly lead to disappointment. Even if you didn't enjoy celebrating your own birthday, you understood that it meant more to others and the happy memories associated with it.

No need to cancel the invitation, that’s fine. I’ll be fine. See you on Tuesday – Sent at 3:17pm.

He took one last puff of the cigarette before flicking it away and making his way back to the set, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of you.

You were in your rented apartment, standing in front of your small closet and talking to your best friend over Facetime. With your back to the screen, you felt on the verge of tears as you realized you had nothing suitable to wear to Oscar's party. The phone was propped up on your bedside table, and you turned to face Xavier's amused expression on the screen.

“I'm about to go crazy,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “I can't find anything to wear.”

Xavier chuckled and lay back on his own bed, still visible on the screen. “Relax, Y/N. We'll find something. Let me see what you've got.”

You knelt down at the table and held up a few dresses for him to see. Xavier made a face at each one, shaking his head disapprovingly. Finally, he suggested a simple black dress that you had forgotten you owned.

“That's perfect,” he said, grinning at you. “You'll look amazing. Just throw on some heels and you're good to go.”

“And what are you going to wear?” you asked, taking the phone in both hands and moving it closer to your face.

Since you didn't want to go to the party alone, you decided to bring Xavier with you, even though he didn't know anyone in Pedro's inner circle, including Oscar and Elvira. The only connection Xavier had to Pedro was through you, as they had met a few times before.

He was shocked when he heard about your breakup with Pedro two weeks ago. He had always thought that you and Pedro were perfect for each other, and it came as a surprise when you told him that things had ended between you two. He remembered how happy you had seemed with Pedro, always talking about the little things he did that made you fall even more in love with him. It was hard to believe that it was all over now.

Xavier had been there for you through all the tears and heartbreak that came with the breakup. He was the only person you really talked to about what happened. He had listened to you vent about Pedro, and had even gone as far as to offer to confront him about the way he had hurt you, but you had refused, saying that it wouldn't change anything, and that you just needed time to heal.

Now, as he watched you on Facetime, he could see the sadness in your eyes. He knew that finding something to wear to this birthday party was the least of your worries.

“Oh, you know, my finest t-shirt and jeans,” he answered with a playfully tone. “Maybe I'll even splurge and wear my dress shoes instead of my sneakers.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Don't worry, I'll make sure to tuck my shirt in for the occasion.”

You laughed at Xavier's words, feeling relieved that he could make light of the situation. “Well, make sure you don't outshine me too much,” you teased. “I don't want to be upstaged by your dress shoes and tucked-in shirt.”

Xavier chuckled. “No worries, you'll be the star of the show,” he said reassuringly. “But seriously, don't stress about it. We'll have a good time no matter what.”

His words were comforting and a feeling of appreciation and thankfulness filled your heart. “Thanks, Xavier,” you said, smiling. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

Xavier grinned. “Of course, what are friends for?” he replied. “Besides, I would do anything to see Pedro's face when he sees you in that dress. He's going to regret ever letting you go.”

You laughed, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the thought of Pedro's reaction. “I doubt he'll care,” you said, shrugging it off. “But it'll be nice to look good for myself, at least.”

Xavier shook his head. “Trust me, he'll care,” he said with a wink and then stood up from his bed, straightening his shirt. “Alright, I better get ready too. I need to iron my jeans and find my fanciest t-shirt,” he joked. “I'll pick you up at 7. See ya!” he said before ending the call, at which you smiled to yourself, feeling grateful for your friend's support.

As you and Xavier made your way to the door of Oscar's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on you. You clutched the gift tightly in your hand, hoping it will help you calm down. You turned to Xavier, about to voice your concerns about this evening, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, it's going to be fine,” Xavier said, sensing your unease. “We'll have a good time. And don't worry about Pedro, I'll not leave you alone even for a moment. When I go to the toilet, I'll drag you along with me,” he joked trying to boost your mood.

You let out a deep sigh. “I'm scared.”

Xavier smiled reassuringly. “I know, but we'll stick together and make the most of it,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “And besides, you look amazing. Pedro's going to regret all of his life choices.”

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, feeling a little less anxious. “Okay, let's do this.”

As you approached the door, your heart rate started to increase again. You could hear the sound of laughter and chatter from inside grew louder, intensifying your apprehension. But before you could even think about turning back to Xavier's car, Elvira opened the door and greeted you warmly. “Y/N!” she called out joyfully, pulling you into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of Elvira's perfume and the comforting warmth of her hug helped ease your nerves a little bit.

“It's so good to see you,” Elvira continued. “Oscar will be so happy you came. You know damn well how much he liked you.”

You smiled gratefully at her words, while Elvira already shifted her gaze to the man standing next to you.

“And who's this handsome gentleman with you?” Elvira asked, pulling away from you and turning to Xavier.

Xavier extended his hand. “I'm Xavier. Y/N's best friend,” he introduced himself with a smile.

Elvira shook his hand. “I'm Elvira, Oscar's wife. Nice to meet you,” she said warmly.

You suddenly felt an odd need to explain why you brought a stranger to their house, even though you knew that Elvira was aware of the recent events.

“I didn't want to come alone, the last days were-” you started to explain, but Elvira quickly cut you off, sensing your discomfort.

“That's fine, Y/N. You don't need to explain yourself, we both know what happened,” Elvira said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to encourage you. “Come on in,” she added, motioning towards the open door and stepping aside to let you both enter the house.

As you walked past her, Elvira turned her gaze to Xavier and sent him a warm smile. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her kindness and understanding, and you knew that you were in good hands for the evening.

The birthday party was in full swing, with colorful decorations hanging from the ceiling and walls, and a large cake with lit candles in the center of the room. The scent of savory and sweet treats wafted through the air, making your mouth water.

Oscar was the center of attention, greeting his guests with a big smile and warm hugs. He was surrounded by his closest friends, chatting and laughing away, and occasionally stopping to pose for a picture with them.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in the midst of the older crowd, except for Oscar's children, who were running around and playing games. You had hoped to have a conversation with Pedro, but he avoided your gaze the entire time, which made you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.

However, Xavier was by your side throughout the evening, keeping you company and making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories. You introduced him to some of the people at the party, and of course to Oscar, and he encouraged you to dance, which helped you loosen up and enjoy the party a little more.

As the night wore on, the guests started to leave one by one, and the house grew quieter. The children were already fast asleep, and the adults seemed to be in a mellower mood, with lighter snacks and drinks replacing the heavier ones from earlier in the evening.

You found yourself in the kitchen with Xavier, enjoying a lively conversation with Elvira and Oscar about the latest news in the city. Elvira was recounting her recent trip to Europe when Oscar suddenly interrupted her by reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring it into a set of glasses.

“Let's raise a toast to life, to good friends, and to family,” Oscar exclaimed, lifting his glass. You all joined in, clinking your glasses together, laughing and toasting to the good times. The mood had shifted from one of excitement to one of warmth and sentimentality.

As you took a sip of the wine, you noticed Pedro standing at the edge of the room, watching you with an intense gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you felt a strange mix of discomfort and confusion. You had wanted to talk to him earlier in the evening, but he had been avoiding you, so his sudden interest now was puzzling. Feeling the need for comfort and safety, you moved closer to Xavier, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulders. You didn't know if Pedro was still watching you, but you felt better in your friend’s presence.

To your surprise, Pedro suddenly approached the four of you, inserting himself into the conversation. He started to talk about a recent article he had read in the newspaper, bringing up a topic that interested everyone. Xavier and Elvira seemed to welcome his presence, and Oscar was glad to have his longtime friend join in. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that his gaze was still fixed on you, even as he talked with the others.

As the conversation continued, Oscar and Elvira decided to check in with the guests in the living room, leaving you, Xavier, and Pedro alone in the kitchen. The silence was palpable as you all stood there, unsure of what to say or do next. Pedro finally broke the silence, turning his attention to you.

“So, Y/N, I can see that you are having fun?” he asked, his eyes still lingering on you.

You tried to hide your discomfort, forcing a smile and answering politely, “Yeah. I try to, at least.”

It was hard not to notice that Pedro wasn't completely sober – although he wasn't fully drunk either. He kept shooting unpleasant glances at Xavier every now and then and his eyes were colder than always.

Your friend seemed oblivious to Pedro's behavior, but you knew better. You could feel the tension rising in the room, and you started to feel anxious. Pedro's jealousy was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if he still had feelings for you, even though you weren’t a thing anymore.

Trying to diffuse the situation, you asked Pedro how his job was going, hoping to steer the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics. He answered curtly, barely giving you any information, and then turned his attention back to Xavier, sizing him up with a cold stare.

You felt your heart rate increase, sensing that things were about to get out of hand. You knew that you needed to do something, but you weren’t sure what. As you opened your mouth to speak, Pedro cut you off.

“Two weeks were enough for you to find a replacement, huh?”

His question made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Pedro's words didn't make sense to you, and you glanced over at Xavier, who looked equally confused. Pedro scoffed and clarified, “I saw you two earlier. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N. And now here you are, pretending to be just friends.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment and anger. How dare he accuse you of something like that? The jealousy in Pedro's eyes was unmistakable, and it was clear that he didn't believe in your friendship with Xavier, even though he knew him.

Xavier stepped in, sensing the tension rising in the room, his voice calm but firm. “Pedro, let's take a deep breath and calm down for a moment. You’re tipsy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Pedro wasn't backing down, his eyes fixed on Xavier, even though he was actually speaking to you. “I don't trust him. And I don't trust you, Y/N.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your heart sank in your chest. You couldn't believe what Pedro was saying. How could he accuse you of being untrustworthy when he was the one who had abandoned you without any explanation? Anger and sadness boiled inside you, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts, and the tears started to gather in your eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You were the one who stood me out on the day of our anniversary. It was you who came to break up with me the next day without giving me any explanation. It was you-you…” the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face, mixing with the anger and frustration that you felt. You sniffed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “How dare you tell me that you don't trust me?” you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Pedro's expression softened slightly, and for a moment, you thought that he might actually apologize for his absurd behavior, but then, his gaze hardened again, and he shook his head.

“I had my reasons,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And I don't need to justify them to anyone.”

You stared at him in silence, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst. He's being unreasonable and irrational, you thought. You shook your head in disbelief and took a step back. “You know what?” you asked, staring into Pedro's eyes. “I will not talk to you. I'm not going to listen to you suddenly make me some kind of scolding because alcohol went to your head. You're a grown man, and you're acting like a kid,” you barked, your anger seeping through every syllable. You then turned your back on Pedro, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry again.

You left him, standing motionless in the kitchen with his eyes fixated on the door through in which you had just disappeared with Xavier. His heart was heavy with regret as he realized that he fucked up again. He knew that he had messed up, that he had let his jealousy and insecurities take control of his words and actions. He desperately wanted to talk to you on this party, to apologize for his behavior and make things right, but now it was too late for that. He had taken a few drinks to calm his nerves, hoping that it would help him find the courage to talk to you, but now he realized that it had only fueled his anger and made things worse. The sight of you laughing and chatting with Xavier had been the final blow, and now he was left alone with his regrets once again.

#the last goodbye #angst #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x reader angst #daddy is a state of mind #the last of us fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #joel miller x reader #javier pena x reader

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wardenparker · 7 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 4

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Mentions of car accident (resulting in death), trauma reactions, talk of family dynamics, plenty of secrets still being kept. Summary: Time spent with Allison and the coven is becoming more frequent, but a surprising time alone with Max is what will be on your mind for a while... Notes: Apologies for any errors that I missed in this chapter, my dears. I'm still on the mend so I admit my editing isn't quite up to par. I hope you enjoy anyway! 🧛‍♂️ This week we've got a photo of the upstairs sitting room in Dolly's lovely mansion.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

The next few days, Max stays away. Confused as to why he had decided to spend Mabon as a bat on your shoulder during a witch's celebration instead of doing vampire things. He had missed a few parties in some neighboring cities but once he had gotten there, he hadn't wanted to leave your side. Something that was not Max. That, and now he's getting weird looks from Mrs. Taylor. As if she is waiting for him to tell her something and he doesn't know what the fuck that is. So instead of interacting, he stays away, concentrating on work.

It’s made the atmosphere in the house a little more tense than it needs to be, something which you’re so unfortunately used to that at first you find the tension more comfortable than everyone’s kindness. It’s not new to you, to have a man in close proximity who barely speaks to you, so you begin to adjust to the idea that Max just doesn’t like you very much.

******

"What is with you?" Eddie doesn't bother knocking, making Max scowl as he looks up from his magazine.

"Can't a man get a little privacy?" He grumbles, slapping the pages together and huffing at the other vampire. "What the fuck did I do now? I've been busy and on my best behavior."

“You’ve been sulking most of the time and extra snarky the others,” Eddie observes, coming fully into the upstairs sitting room where Max had been reclined on a sofa with his copy of GQ.

"I've been perfectly fine." Max sniffs, rolling his eyes and opening the magazine again. He has no interest in being questioned. "If someone takes offense to being busy, that's not my fault."

“You’re avoiding her.” It’s pretty obvious to the rest of the household, to the point where even Mr. Finchley had noticed and commented on the situation.

"Who?" Max asks, as if he isn't aware of who Eddie is referring to. As if he hadn't consciously rearranged his schedule so he wouldn't run into you.

“Dolly.” He’s not afraid of you overhearing this little exchange because you’re currently out with Allison getting a driving tour of your new island home, so he doesn’t bother closing the door behind him when he plops down in his favorite armchair.

"Come in. Make yourself comfortable." Max grunts sarcastically, shooting Eddie an unhappy look. He would rather the other vampire be anywhere else other than bothering him. "Since when is not dancing for the little human being rude?" He demands when Eddie doesn't move, just lifts a brow at him and waits.

“You haven’t even been eating dinner with us.” Not that it hasn’t made time for plenty of light conversation, but it still makes Eddie frown. “At least eat with us tonight? I think she feels like she did something wrong. Like you hate her.”

He doesn't want to. Doesn't want the feeling that rides under his skin when you are near. Like an itch he couldn't possibly scratch, even if he tore his skin off. Still....the idea that you would think you had done something wrong sits like a stone in his stomach. "I don't know her." He reminds Eddie. "How could I hate her?"

“I didn’t say I thought that,” the other vampire reminds him. “But she’s obviously been through some things and reassurance doesn’t hurt.”

Max huffs, wanting to say something snarky about needing reassurances, but then he remembers how happy you were that night around the fire. You had stroked his little bat wings and petted him while laughing and talking. He hates the idea of you slipping back into the shell of the quiet mouse you had been when you arrived. "Fine." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll make an appearance. Happy now?"

“Yes, thank you.” Eddie isn’t above using a little guilt here and there to make progress with Max, mostly because he knows that his fellow vampire has a surprisingly big heart carefully packed away under those bespoke suit layers. “I’ll let Mrs. Taylor know. She’s got a big bowl of that Italian chocolate pudding she makes with blood chilling in the fridge downstairs.”

"Oh thank god." Max wrinkles his nose. "I've been getting bored with take out." He smirks at his own little joke and looks back down at his magazine. "Now if you don't mind...."

“Looking for fashion tips for the coven’s masquerade?” Eddie lifts himself from the chair but doesn’t make a move to leave, teasing Max instead. “You know those are costume parties, right?”

Max's eyes cut over to Eddie, narrow and suspicious. "No." He snaps. "When do I have to be looking for fashion tips?" He asks, letting go of one side of the magazine to gesture to his resplendent outfit. "Maybe I'm trying to figure out how to tell you that you dress like a sad virgin." He shoots back with a pout. He's wondering why the hell Eddie would mention a coven function to him. Not like he had plans to attend.

“90s grunge is cool again,” Eddie informs him with a smirk, not bothered for even one second that Max is being pouty again.

"Go away." He rolls his eyes and flaps his magazine again, trying to ignore Eddie. Finding one of the outfits in the magazine perfect for the party but purposefully turning the page.

“Aww.” Even tutting, Eddie is laughing when he turns away. “Somebody’s got a vein in his fang. Don’t worry, Maxy. You’ll be cool one day, too.”

"Fuck you too!" Max shouts after the annoying vampire. It was a shame that he kept telling Max that he couldn't kill Eddie. Apparently having a soft spot for the annoying little shit.

Eddie chuckles all the way downstairs, going to tell Mrs. Taylor that Max will be returning to the dinner table tonight, but surprised to find the housekeeper standing in the China pantry with you — and for Allison to be there too. “I didn’t even hear you come home,” he hums, looking around at the three women. “Enjoyed your drive?”

"Oh!" Allison jumps, startled by the appearance of the cute, young looking, vampire. She's aware of his nature, Cookie having told her a few years ago. "I—" She flusters slightly and looks towards you. "I think he was talking to you and not me."

“Both of you,” Eddie clarifies, thoroughly enjoying the way Allison blushes in surprise. He’s always found the little witch to be beautiful, and is glad you made friends so quickly.

“It was really nice.” You’re standing in the room with Allison and Mrs. Taylor, arm looped through Allison’s as you chatted over having the next coven meeting here at the mansion. “Alli took me to a clam shack in Middletown for lunch and we drove all around the island.”

"Flo's." Allison tells Eddie, shrugging like it was the only place to take you. "Thought she should be familiar with the area. Learn where to go from a local."

“Perfect choice.” Not that he ever really wanted to eat there — not with how typical human food tastes to vampires — but because he sees that both humans have come home happy. So clearly, the choice was perfect. “Don’t let me interrupt. I was just coming to tell Mrs. Taylor that Max decided to be social for dinner tonight.”

"Decided?" Allison tilts her head in confusion and looks at him questioningly. "Has he been unsociable?"

“He’s been busy.” There’s no reason to talk about it, so you hadn’t mentioned it while you were out, but now you shrug. “I mean it’s not like we’re close, or anything. He’s not beholden to a big family dinner. That would be silly.” Silly for plenty of reasons – not the least of which is the fact that you’re not family at all.

Allison frowns and is about to say that there's no way that he would do that, but she catches the way your shoulders round slightly and stops herself. "Well, that just means he will have plenty to talk about tonight."

“Sure will,” Eddie predicts with a smile, having noticed the same thing as Allison. “I’m glad you ladies had fun.” Despite having been a vampire for decades he’s still fairly awkward around beautiful women and Allison is no exception to that rule. “I’ll leave you to it,” he decides, excusing himself to head back upstairs to his mountain of homework.

"Well, he ran off quickly." Allison doesn't know quite what to make of Eddie, he is normally running off before they talk for too long and it leaves her feeling a little off kilter.

“Doesn’t want to intrude on coven business, I expect.” Mrs. Taylor smiles, knowing full well that Eddie has had a little crush on Allison Wetmore for years. “Eddie used to dabble, you know? When he was younger.” When he was still human, is the underlying clarification, and Mrs. Taylor gives Allison a meaningful look. “Sometimes I think he misses it.”

"Really?" Her eyes widened in surprise and then drift back towards the door he had left through. "Well, he could always still dabble, if he wanted to. There's no rules against it."

“I can mention it to him,” you offer, seeing the way Allison softens at that idea and honestly envying it more than a little. You would give anything to feel softness and romantic longing for a good man again. Instead of the all-encompassing self-doubt and fear that you’ve been left with. The only thing you feel softness for right now is a bat. “The next coven meeting is going to be here anyway. There’s no reason he can’t join us.”

"You don't have to do that." A discreet look at Mrs. Taylor ends up with the older vampire simply shrugging her shoulders, having no input on the idea.

“There’s no reason he can’t join us,” you repeat with a smile, having no idea of the extremely real reason that so many other witches the world over would have a very big problem with the idea.

Mrs. Taylor smiles and nods. "Now, have you decided which china you would like to use?" She asks, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand. "It would really depend on the theme that you are wishing to have."

“We’re going to be planning the Samhain Masquerade, so…” A small huff of a laugh comes out of you. “Did Cookie have anything with bats or Jack o’lanterns or broomsticks on it?” You know the question is ridiculous but you’re in a fairly good mood for the third day in a row and that’s fairly miraculous.

Although she purses her lips in thought, Mrs. Taylor finds it amusing that you would be so like the woman you had never met. "There are two sets." She admits, walking over to one of the walls of cabinets without glass to display the wares. "Ms. Cookie had an odd sense of humor that would be perfect for a Samhain Masquerade."

“Are you serious?” It had only been a joke, and yet Mrs. Taylor is pulling out two different sets of dinner plates — one rimmed in spider webs and skulls and ghosts and haunted houses; and the other with a clean black rim and old fashioned scenes of witches and hauntings and magic in the center. “Oh my gods!”

The housekeeper’s laugh is loud. "That was the exact reaction of Ms. Brown when she opened the crate with the dishes." She admits as you carefully take one of them to examine. "Her soulmate was always on the lookout for things that she would love."

“They’re fantastic.” The sting in your heart at another even small similarity between and a woman you never met makes you ache for some reason. “He sounds like he loved her very much.” The story that Allison told you is still in your head, but vampires? That’s still just too outrageous.

"Their love was never a question." Mrs. Taylor murmurs softly. "If there is one set that you like more than the other, we will use that set."

“What do you think?” Giving Allison the choice since she knows the coven better makes perfect sense to you. “We could probably even mix and match if we wanted to?”

"Personally..." She tilts her head and smiles as she looks down at the plates. "I think that the ones with the pumpkins are perfect."

“Then that’s what we’ll use.” They’re all perfect, so you’re happy no matter what — and what the coven will like is far more important to you anyway.

"We can save the other china for the next one?" Allison asks. "If you decide to have another next year."

“I’m sure we will.” Somehow, with as much as you doubt yourself on other things, you don’t doubt this. Like reviving the legacy of the masquerade ball is simply meant to be.

"Then we will make sure that everyone in Newport wants an invite to your masquerades." Allison declares with a grin.

“I think we could probably fit them all in this house.” You joke, wondering if anyone besides the coven would even come and if you would even care if they didn’t. Having this many potential friends is something you haven’t experienced in years.

“You should go to see some of the other mansions down this street,” Mrs. Taylor insists, sorting through the cabinet of Samhain China. “They’re very beautiful, and quite enormous.”

"We could make it a field trip, if you wanted?" Allison jumps on the idea with a grin. "Get a few from the coven and make a day of it?"

"Are there really that many to see?" So many of the gates up and down the street were marked private that eventually you had stopped thinking that any of them might be open to the public at all.

"They will be just as soon as you tell the people answering the speaker that you have some of Mrs. Taylor’s famous cookies." Allison snickers. "Even if the homeowners aren't there, the staff will do anything to get a box."

"Oh, now, hush." Mrs. Taylor would blush if she could, but as it is she waves her hand at Allison as though she might be just too pleased for words. "I'll see that Renee gets a stack of tickets ordered for the Preservation Society and you girls can go whenever you'd like. Just come on back here for lunch in between, alright?" There is a not-so-small chance that the vampiric housekeeper has dearly missed these larger parties and is taking any excuse she can find to encourage you to make friends. Not so small at all.

"You know your cookies are coveted." Allison hums with a smile before she turns to you. "What do you say, Dolly? Does that sound like something you'd like to do later on this week?"

"Absolutely." An invitation – any time spent with new friends – warms you right from the tips of your toes all the way through the top of your head. "I've never seen houses like these before, it sounds like fun."

"Ohhhhh." Turning her eyes towards the older, vampiric housekeeper, she bites her lip. "Is there any way that we could possibly borrow some period clothing?" The witch asks with a grin, knowing that it would appeal to her immensely. "We could do the tours dressed up."

"Of course, dear." Mrs. Taylor nearly vibrates with excitement over the question, answering immediately and putting the box of dishes aside in her eagerness at the suggestion. "I will sort through some of the older things on the third floor and bring them down for you all to look through tomorrow?"

“What do you think?” Allison turns to you and wants to know if you would like that. “Is that something you would like?”

It isn't something you would normally do, but something in your gut tells you yes. To go for it. That it will be fun. "What the heck?" You shrug eventually, throwing up your hands. "It could be fun."

“Yes!” Allison pumps her first in the air. “You won’t regret it.” She promises before she checks her watch. “Shoot. I have to get to work. Call you later?”

"Sure." Accepting the quick, tight hug for as long as it lasts, Allison is quickly flying out the door again and off to the races, leaving you with Mrs. Taylor and her knowing smile in less than a flash.

“That one is always busy, says it keeps her in high spirits.” Mrs. Taylor tells you as she pulls out the rest of the china. “Would you like a tea service or would you rather wait for dinner?”

"I'll wait, if you don't mind. Lunch was big." Having nothing but leisure time has been odd even if it has only been a few days, and for a moment you have nothing but envy for your friend and her busy schedule. There are things you would love to do, but just can't bring yourself to think about for the time being. "I think I'll read until dinner, if that's alright."

“Of course.” Mrs. Taylor doesn’t remind you that you are the one who sets the rules, just nods and smiles. “Ring the bell if you need anything.”

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I will." There is nothing that you could need badly enough that it would make you call for the staff, but you appreciate the gesture of being reminded. You would never want to inconvenience them like that, so you'll enjoy your afternoon with your book until dinner and then quietly enjoy your absolute top guilty pleasure reality show on television tonight. That would be a perfect cap to a lovely day.

******

The fact that Max checks his appearance in the mirror has nothing to do with seeing you at dinner. Nothing at all. He’s a vain man and enjoys the fact that the modern day mirrors allow for his reflection, since they are not backed with silver. Making sure that his hair was perfectly in place, he amuses himself by letting his fangs grow, making sure there was nothing in his teeth. Wondering what you would do if he let them show at dinner.

At five minutes to seven you’re down in the dining room, not wanting anyone to ever have to wait for you or to cause any problems. A lot has gone on these last few days, but a routine is starting to emerge that you feel like you can attach to. The soothing breath of fall is helping but it’s not exclusively that. The freedom you’ve been allowed is almost terrifying, so it’s not that either. It’s the small routines that are making you feel more at ease, and the reliability of those things showing you that you can rely that Mrs. Taylor and Renee – and even Mr. Taylor and Mr. Finchley – will take care of things by sticking to their routines. Even Eddie has the routine of school and always sitting down to dinner with you. It’s only Max who is a wildcard, so you are trying very hard not to let his variability affect how you approach your day. Tonight begins your one true indulgence, and you will be damned if you let Max’s variable mood ruin it for you. You’ve been looking forward to this. It’s all you have left of some things that are long since past.

At seven Max strolls into the dining room. “Well, this looks like a marvelous evening.” He says with a small chuckle. “Miss me? I’ve been very busy.”

“It’s been a few days,” you nod once and pick up your lemonade, noting a taste of something herbal in it that you can’t quite identify. “I hope you’ve gotten things done?”

“Always.” He smirks, sending you a wink even if he doesn’t want to wink at you. “Plenty of deals done. Gotta burn that oil to get in good with the bosses.”

"I hope it works for you." Not having to suck up to horrible bosses is something you've considered an enormous fringe benefit of not having to look for a job in your new town, but Max seems to enjoy – somehow – the hustle and bustle of the office.

“So far my numbers don’t lie.” He boasts as he drags out his chair and flops down, somehow making it look elegant. His eyes roam over your face and it’s obvious that you’ve relaxed, your eyes brighter than before and you look happy.

“Have you…seen Eddie?” There are only two places set tonight and no sign of the other young man in sight. While it’s unusual it’s not exactly concerning.

Max knows that is happening and he frowns. Little shit obviously decided that you could stand to have a one-on-one dinner. “I think he decided to go out.” He tells you. “Take out.”

“Oh. Sure. Of course.” The whirring cogs in your brain immediately reinterpret that as ‘he is avoiding you because you’ve done something wrong or upset him’ and even though you have absolutely no evidence for that you can’t shake it out of your mind as Mrs. Taylor comes in with the first course.

Max huffs when there’s just water again, no goblets of ‘wine’. He needs one of those drink cups with a straw to bring to the table. “Think the kid’s trying to get laid or something.” He shrugs and glances down at his plate. “No, it was a study group. I was the one trying to get laid in college.” He tells you with a chuckle.

You have no trouble believing that whatsoever, but pointing it out seems like bad form, though. “Eddie seems very serious about school,” you observe instead. Thinking about Max like that is surprisingly easy and you immediately shock yourself trying to imagine if he has chest hair or not. That is not a helpful thought.

“He should be.” Max frowns seriously, picking up his spoon and sliding it through the blood soup Mrs. Taylor had made him. You have tomato soup in your own bowl. “Honestly, I’d be mad if he wasn’t serious.”

“You would?” From the man who just said he spent college trying to get laid, you can admit to yourself that that is surprising to hear from him.

"Of course I would." He spoons up a sip of the blood soup and slurps it happily. "Don't want the same thing to happen to him that happened to me."

“I thought you had your MBA?” The thick, creamy tomato soup that Mrs. Taylor made for tonight is wonderful, and you can already tell you’re going to be craving it with grilled cheese on chilly days.

He sighs, his face twisting in anger. "No thanks to fucking Vanderbilt." He hisses, still angry after all this time that they had not even attempted to listen to him. He had not cheated. He was a lot of things, but a fucking cheater in school hadn't been one of them.

“You went to Vanderbilt?” The way you almost drop your spoon in shock is about as telling at the way your mouth hangs open, but you manage not to let the utensil clatter or make a mess.

"I did." He snorts. "Until they fucking kicked me out for something I didn't do."

“I—I’m so sorry.” It’s clear he’s still angry about it, whatever it was that happened, and you back down from asking questions instantly. An angry man is never ever a good thing, especially when they’re strong. And Max definitely looks strong.

The way you clam up instantly makes him regret showing his true emotions. His shoulders relax and he adopts a slightly smarmy smirk. "Not that I didn't do anything wrong..." He admits. "But banging my roommate's ex-girlfriend was my only crime. Evan just…he was a fucking twerp."

“They…kicked you out for that?” You knew there was an Honor System when you were at school but that seems like taking it to a rather incredulous degree, to you.

"Nope." He takes another sip of his soup. "I was accused of 'academic dishonesty'." He even uses the air quotes. "Little shit had access to my computer so he made it look like I was stealing my essays from him. And he uploaded some test key from one of my classes onto it."

“Gods, he actually framed you?” That’s a whole lot of dedication to disliking someone and you fidget slightly in your seat, wondering when this all happened. You have no idea how old Max is or how old he was in college. “I’m…I’m really sorry. That’s awful.”

"Yeah....of course no college in the states would take me." He tells you. "Had to get my MBA in Romania."

“I…” A spoonful of liquid sits in your spoon, untouched, as you debate finishing your sentence. “I…went to Vanderbilt, too.”

"No shit?" Max huffs, looking impressed. "What year?"

"I was Class of 2011." There is a brightness there, in remembering college, that you don't have with a lot of other things, and the smile on your face is genuine. "It's hard to believe it was so long ago."

"Oh shit." Max's brows shoot up and he shakes his head. "I can't - you were there at the same time. I was - well, would have been, Class of '09."

"Shit..." Even if the curse slips out on its own, it's honest. And you sit back in your chair in surprise. "The school isn't that big. How did we never meet?"

"Somehow I don't peg you as a business major." He teases slightly with a grin. "Although....were you in any of the sororities? I was always at those parties."

"I wasn't exactly a sorority girl." That is a fairly large understatement, but you get the feeling that he wasn't being serious anyway. "I was a classics and anthropology double major, But I...spent most of my extra time dancing." It's been a long time since you have been in a studio, or last took a lesson, but that's where you spent every ounce of free time when you were younger. Dance was like breathing. It was just part of who you were, but it was never going to be your profession.

"Dancing?" He tilts his head, spoon halfway to his lips and he tries to figure out what you mean. "I mean, where do you dance, except at a party?" He asks, wondering if you were one of those ballet types.

The sting in your heart is still there, despite it having been a lot of years since the last time you were in a studio. "I used to do ballroom competitively," you tell him, finally taking that spoonful of your own soup all the way to your mouth.

Eating your soup stops you from seeing the way that Max nearly chokes on his next spoonful of the warm blood soup. Catching himself before you look up and schooling his features back to polite interest. "Hmmm."

"Yeah, it's not the most popular, necessarily. Or something that a lot of people dabble in." It wasn't as though you had taken jazz or tap, or any of the types of dance classes that the theater students favored. You hadn't even tried out ballet. For you, it had always been ballroom or bust. "But...I enjoyed it. A lot."

"Good for you." Max tells you. "Everyone needs a hobby and it will be handy when you are throwing those parties that Mrs. Taylor is nearly creaming herself over."

"Max." The way you say his name is full of -- to the surprise of both of you -- chastising disapproval. And while that in and of itself isn't necessarily the surprise, the surprise is that it almost feels playful.

He chuckles, smirking at the shocked expression on your face, as if you can't believe that just came out of your mouth. His own return of your name is playful, bantering.

“She seems glad to have things not changing too much, that’s all.” To have reminders of Ms. Brown has seemed to make the housekeeper very glad, and who are you to put an end to that?

Max frowns for a second. "Are there things you want to change?" He asks, wondering why you sound proud that you haven't made any waves.

“Not…not particularly?” In truth you haven’t thought about changing anything at all, so you can’t really say. “Change isn’t always good.”

"Change can be great though." Max argues, even though his tone is still playful. Still making sure that he doesn't somehow hurt your decidedly tender feelings.

"It can be." Sometimes. Rarely. Although this change -- the decision to accept the inheritance and move north -- has been a good one. "But to be honest? Everything is so different here that I don't mind just learning the ropes."

He hums again and quickly finishes his soup before Mrs. Taylor comes in to bring the next course. "I'm sure you will fit right in. The old battle ax is rigid in her schedule." He looks up at the older housekeeper and winks at her playfully.

She says nothing, but raises one eyebrow at Max as she picks up the soup bowls from both of your places and sets down plates instead. You don’t look upset at all so she’s taking it as a good sign for your conversation.

He smirks when you don't comment, instead staring at your plate like it fascinates you. "She's not going to bite." He promises. "You at least. Me? She's wanted to bite me for years, but I'm just not the type of man to be the 'other man'." He leans closer. "And between you and me? I think Mr. Taylor might be able to take me."

Years ago you would have teased him about being the kind of guy who claimed to be invulnerable, but not anymore. There may still be playfulness in you but the sass is pretty much gone. "Housekeeper isn't a vampire but her husband might be. Got it." You joke, instead of getting too heavy with anything. The story that the coven told you at Mabon is obviously still on your mind.

Max freezes for a moment before he shoots you a grin. "That's the spirit."

“I didn’t realize vampire stories were so popular up here.” At this point it’s just conversational and you pick up your fork for your second course. “Is it a regional thing? Allison was telling me about…Mercy Brown? I think that was her name.” The local vampire story from 1892 had been another tale related to you at the Mabon bonfire.

Max chuckles. "Vampires are extremely popular around here. As they should be." He adds, picking up his butter knife and pointing it at you as he educates you. "They are the superior creature in every way that counts."

“Oh?” That seems…characteristically cocky coming from Max, so you don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s his opinion or nothing. “If you say so.”

"Think about it." He hums. "Immortality."

“I’d go for magic being real before I go for immortality,” you tell him honestly. There hasn’t been anything about your life worth living forever for in a long time.

"Ouch." He rubs his heart like you hurt him. "I guess that's why you're a witch." He pouts at you before he picks up his fork. He's also noticed that you don't eat unless someone else does and you need to eat. Your stomach is growling quietly.

“I was raised a witch.” There isn’t any reason to share so much with him but you can’t seem to stop yourself. It’s like a compulsion. “My parents were witches, too.”

"So it's like...a family thing." He nods as he takes a bite of the steak tare-tare that he had been craving, groaning quietly at the taste.

“Very much so.” Though your family history is a little complicated, you can see unequivocally that the title of Witch is hereditary.

"That's cool." Max shrugs slightly, looking down as he scoops some more of the next course on his fork. "I don't think I could claim something like that. Parents disowned me when I was kicked out of Vandy."

“I’m sorry to hear that.” With your own loss being what it is, you can certainly appreciate the feeling of being on your own. “My parents died the summer before my freshman year.”

"I'm sorry." Max doesn't mean many things when he apologizes, but he does mean this. "Really."

“Thank you.” There isn’t anything to do about it now, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it then. But you do appreciate the sympathy. “I know it isn’t the same thing, but I understand being on your own.”

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t have an answer for that. He just nods and reaches for the water to wash down the food.

Stony silence fills the dining room and you understand immediately that you've overstepped. Your situations aren't the same and you shouldn't have compared them, and now he's upset with you. Having a man upset with you, though, is unfortunately something that you're intimately familiar with, and even though you shrink in your chair you know what to do. Just sit with your mouth shut and eat your dinner, making sure not to make eating sounds that will bother or anger Max for the rest of the meal.

Unfortunately, it seems like you are the worst at someone staying silent and you clam up like you've just been scolded. Max wants to bridge the gap, to get back to the somewhat easy banter you had been having. "Dead parents, as good as dead parents." Max shrugs his shoulders. "What are you gonna do, am I right?" He cracks a smile. "At least yours have a good reason for abandoning you. Still sucks though, and I'm sorry. How did they go? Shootout with police? Exploding cauldron?" He's being purposely ridiculous to see you smile. Hopefully.

“Car accident.” You can’t really tell if he’s trying to lighten the mood or making light of your parents’ deaths, so for your own sanity you have to choose to believe it’s the former. “An eighteen-wheeler hydroplaned in a thunderstorm and rolled over onto my parents’ sedan and another car on the highway.” It’s been long enough that you can talk about it without instantly crying, but only just. “Truck driver was the only survivor.”

"Fuck." Max winces and he blows out a breath in a very human-like exhale. "I'm so sorry. That's a lot to deal with when you're that age, any age really." He adds. "What were they like?"

“I don’t think kinder people have ever existed.” You tell him honestly, fork in hand but not actively eating while you think of your parents. “They were soulmates. Met during a summer study abroad program in London. My dad had just started college the year before and my mom was taking a gap year because she didn’t know what she wanted to study. After they met, she applied to the same college he was studying at and…they were pretty much inseparable after that.”

Even though his heart no longer beats, something twists in his chest at the mention of soulmates. He had never gotten to find out who his was. Despite his playboy attitude, when he had been in college, he would have dropped everything to be with that girl. No more serial dating or being a flirt. He had wanted the soulmate bond that his parents had shared. “That’s sweet.” He tells you. “At least….” He clears his throat. “At least they went together so they didn’t have to lose each other to death.”

“That’s…kind of what I’ve settled on…” Agreement with Max is an odd feeling, but you too had settled on neither of them having to be alone at the end as a good thing. Any solace you could give yourself at the time was extremely necessary. “Do you—? I mean…your parents…?” You’re not quite sure how to ask, or even what you’re asking, but it feels rude not to ask at all.

“What?” He asks, not sure exactly what you mean. “Wish I could see them?”

“I was going to ask if you had checked up on them,” you admit, looking down at your plate. Max must not like duck, you reflect, since his dinner is something different tonight. “Sometimes I wish I knew the rest of my family just so I could check on them. See if they’re happy. But that’s silly.”

“I saw them about three years ago.” Max admits quietly. “From a distance. They made it very clear they had no interest in a cheater and refused to believe me. So….” He shrugs. “They made their choice. Being told your parents wished you were never born is a relationship killer.” He hadn't been able to resist going back and seeing the people who had given him life, but he had just watched from the car for a few hours before leaving.

“I’m so sorry.” Somehow it never occurs to you to ask if he is actually guilty. Someone so proud of his achievements doesn’t seem like the type to cut corners to you, and the fact that he still seems so hurt by it is the other large piece of the puzzle. If he were truly that person, it would not have left such a mark on his heart. And just like that— the wall you had up around yourself to keep out Max Phillips begins to crack.

******

Dinner had finished with much lighter subjects being broached. Finding himself watching as you relax more as the night goes on. The seemingly heavy burden of fear and manners slowly slipping off your shoulders and instead of being weighed down, your spine straightens. Body starts to uncurl from the center and open up. He had excused himself, like a gentleman. Wishing you a nice night and disappearing quickly. Unsure of why he's so fucking protective of you and not liking it at all. He had thought about turning into a bat again. To seek you out, but instead, he finds himself roaming around the halls of the mansion like a ghost.

It’s silly. You know it is. But to still have silly things to hold on to at this point in your life is vital. So you make your way upstairs after dinner and putter in your room for a little while, deciding to change into pajamas before going out to see if anyone is in the sitting room. Eddie is still out and there’s no sign of Max so you slip inside and turn on the tv, allowing yourself to relax and even enjoy tonight. Dancing with the Stars is silly in a lot of ways. But sometimes, for the people competing and for you watching, it can mean a whole hell of a lot. It’s a window back to happier days, and that is something you are grateful for.

The noise is what attracts him. Hearing the applause draws him from the remote areas of the house. As if pulled by an invisible string. His feet quiet as he draws closer to the light flashing from the sitting room.

“Live, from Hollywood! It’s Dancing with the Stars!” proclaims the host loudly, and you sink back into the presumably antique sofa with a happy sigh. The little things — like reality tv — aren’t always so little. Next week, you think, you’ll have to make popcorn.

Reality TV? His head tilts and his eyes widen in surprise as he comes into the sitting room. Unable to believe that you would watch something as trivial as this. He had pegged you for a Lifetime movies girl, or maybe the Who Done It channels that constantly played murder cases.

“Max!” The last thing you had expected was company, and your cheeks burn hot in embarrassment when you realize he’s smirking, like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Did—uh—did you want to watch tv?”

"Sure." He immediately starts to shrug out of his jacket and unbutton his vest as he walks around the couch. "What are we watching?" He asks, like he just didn't hear the announcer. It had cut to commercial and he wants to see what you say.

“I—uh—” Your complete intention had been to surrender the television to him if he wanted it. The idea that he might want to join you had never even crossed your mind, so when Max plops down on the sofa beside you, you feel like a deer caught in car headlights. “It’s…Dancing with the Stars…” you let the truth out without even thinking. It’s not even worth lying about, since you’re the worst liar in the world. And what would the point be, anyway?

"Hmmmmm." He is impressed that you just admitted what you are watching and he glances over at you with a grin. "Does it make you nostalgic?" He asks.

You nod, a melancholy smile grabbing your lips as you twist your fingers on the edge of your sweater. “Yeah. It does.”

"Who's your favorite this season?" He asks as he settles deeper into the couch. "Any favorites yet?"

“Only one couple has danced so far, so I’m not sure.” The fact that he’s asking, that he’s not just teasing you about it and walking away, makes you want to just about throw your arms around him in a grateful hug. But since that would be extremely weird and you can’t even fathom the urge, you just smile a little wider instead. “Alyson Hannigan is on this year, though. Even if she’s not very good, it’ll be fun. I—I was kind of a Buffy kid growing up.”

Max snorts, chuckling quietly. "Yeah but it was so predictable." He tells you. "Every week Buffy would be up against some bad ass who she easily defeated."

"That's because Buffy was a badass," you counter without hesitation.

He huffs, pursing his lips in a pout and smirks when you just raise an eyebrow. "You mean there wasn't one vampire you didn't secretly want to live?"

"Spike did live." Did you love the enemies-to-lovers arc that Buffy and Spike went through? Abso-fucking-lutely. Some of the shine had come off of the adversarial relationship since, but you still see the appeal in feeling like you know the real someone they keep hidden from the world.

Max rolls his eyes. "Spike wasn't that great." He huffs. "He wasn't."

"Oh no?" That makes you smirk a little, and you shift on the couch to face him better. "You preferred Angel, did you?" Angel would be the more sentimental choice, and that actually is a bit of a surprise. You would have thought Max would be more into the snarky badass vampire character.

"Angel had a personality." Max insists. "There was the conflict of good and evil inside him. That's better than just....eye candy with spiky white hair."

"Spike got his soul back, too, ya know." Having a debate about a supernatural television show from your childhood isn't exactly where you saw this night going, but Dancing with the Stars is still on commercial and seeing Max get worked up about something that doesn't lead to anger is actually kind of fun. "And he could sing."

He rolls his eyes at your rational and tuts. "Whatever, you just thought he was hot." He's oddly pouty about that fact, since he's the opposite of what Spike looks like. The show starts back and he points at it. "Watch the damn dancers." He grumbles.

"I liked that he improved himself for the person he loved," you clarify quietly, but turn to face the tv again like you've been told.

Max sighs, feeling bad for getting snippy about a fictional character and watches for another moment before standing up and walking out of the room.

The second it happens you can feel yourself curling in again, embarrassed and vulnerable and mortified that he's upset with you. Maybe, you tell yourself, trying not to get so upset that you cry over the fact that Max got up and walked out of the room -- maybe he's just not into dancing. That wouldn't be the end of the world...

"You're a fucking idiot, Phillips." Max berates himself as he zips down to the kitchen, using the speed he couldn't show if you were nearby. "You know she's fucking sensitive and more than likely abused. And yet you fucking get moody with her."

Mrs. Taylor had been clearing up the last of things from the day's work and starting on a little preparation for tomorrow as well when she heard Max in the kitchen. Some of the clothing that she had pulled down from the third floor needed mending and she has a needle and button in hand while Max talks to himself and she hears cabinets open and close.

"Fuck." He shakes his head and throws the popcorn in the microwave. "Okay, snacks, what kind of snacks does a human like while watching dancing?" He asks himself as he starts to pull out crackers and search for something sweet. You seemed to like that. He figured he would apologize with a little snack tray while watching your show.

Smiling to herself, Mrs. Taylor slips across the hall from the sewing room and leans in the kitchen doorway. "She likes hot chocolate," she murmurs, arms crossed and an expression of pure amusement on her face.

Max looks up guiltily and swallows. "Oh, uh, okay." He shrugs when he looks back into the cabinet and grabs the box of deluxe hot chocolate mix. "She wanted snacks." He lies. "Something about being peckish. You know humans."

"Sure, sure." The housekeeper doesn't buy that for a second, knowing that you would never ask for anything. Even after only a few days, she knows that. "Humans."

"Right?" He huffs and rolls his eyes, grabbing the milk and pouring it into the cup to froth in the espresso machine. It would be the best way to scald the milk and make the richest hot chocolate. It's the way he had made it when he was a barista in college.

"There's whipped cream in the fridge." Mrs. Taylor hums, pushing off from the doorframe with a knowing grin. "Enjoy your night, Max."

He grunts, watching the milk scald very carefully before he scoops the cocoa powder into the milk and stirs vigorously to mix it together. Cursing to himself when he realizes he didn't get a mug out, he sets it down to grab one of the big cocoa mugs and delicately pours it in, using the foam to finish the top before he moves to the fridge to grab the whipped cream and a bar of chocolate to shave over the top.

He barely manages to get it all done before the microwave beeps, but he does get it. The popcorn is buttery and salty just the way humans like it and the cocoa is exactly the way he would make it in his barista days.

Carrying the tray up the stairs takes a little bit longer than it would have without it, so he doesn't spill anything. The covered cup for himself is filled with a blood mixture, so he can 'participate' in the snacking. "So what did I miss?" He asks when he walks back into the sitting room.

The look of astonishment on your face when he strolls back I should be plenty enough to tell him that you didn’t think he was coming back, but you manage to sputter out that Alyson Hannigan is about to dance and nearly melt in sheer shock when you realize that he not only came back — he came back with snacks.

"Good, I didn't miss it." He sets the tray down on the coffee table and picks up the hot chocolate and saucer to hand to you. "It's hot, so don't burn yourself." He cautions as he looks at the tv with interest.

Careful not to fumble the cup as he sits down beside you again, you must look like a dope with the little smile of surprise in your lips but you can’t help it. “You didn’t have to do this…”

"Mrs Taylor." He lies with a small shrug. "She insisted. You know, housekeepers." He rolls his eyes for dramatic affect. "If they aren't making things perfect, they aren't happy." It wasn't Mrs. Taylor at all, but he won't admit that it was him even if it's completely obvious it was a lie.

“If you say so.” You nod, though you know just from looking at the cup that Mrs. Taylor didn’t make it.

"Popcorn?" He offers, holding up the bowl. "I - Mrs. Taylor - figured you were a popcorn kind of girl."

“You were right.” Even if he hadn’t given himself away, the tray would have. Mess. Taylor never would have forgotten a napkin. But you dip your hand in the bowl after setting it on the couch between you, and you just smile. A wide, genuine, personal smile.

Max huffs, settling in the cushions with his own cup and focusing on the tv. You didn't reject his tray, or think that it was a shitty idea, so that's good. "Oh, she looks hot." He hums as the couple starts to dance.

“She’s very pretty.” The costume is bright and colorful, fringe and sparkles everywhere, reminding you of so many teenage competitions. When you were growing up your mother swore that everything you owned had sparkle.

"Oooooh." Max winces and takes a sip of his drink. "That's gonna cost them." He predicts as he watches the first misstep of the routine.

“Familiar with ballroom salsa?” You ask, surprised to hear him have any comments at all beyond the costuming. Max is meticulously well dressed, so you had figured that would be the most amusing part for him.

"I just- uh, heard the crowd react." Max tells you, cutting his eyes over to see if you believe him or if you are suspicious.

“It’s okay to say yes…if you do.” It makes you wonder if he really would find it so terrible to have something in common with you.

He blows out a sigh and contemplates lying but apparently he is obscenely bad at lying to you. "I might know a thing or two."

“Did you…ever dance?” It’s equally possible that he dated a girl who danced, or even that he has a friend who he picked it up from. There could be any of a million reasons, and you’re not quite sure why you’re hoping for one over the other.

He closes his eyes and blows out another breath. "I've....danced." He admits slowly. "Comp...etitvely.

“Well I’ll be damned…” That was not what you expected to hear, and the smile on your face creeps a little bit wider than it had been beforehand. “So you know exactly what you’re watching.”

“Her timing is off a quarter of a beat and his arms are not rigid enough.” Max breaks it down as he watches. “The first quarter turn was sloppy and he’s letting her lead.”

“Salsa’s tough for a beginner. She’s got to build her confidence in herself and in him.” Going for a few pieces of popcorn, you can feel yourself relax around him to a whole other degree. “Don’t you remember getting your first competition partner? It was terrifying.”

“Yeah.” He can’t tell you that everyone had spent countless hours practicing before that began. A side effect of not needing sleep.

“When did you start?” Finding this common thread is a revelation for you, and as the judges critique the performance on screen you almost don’t even care that it’s on now.

“In Romania.” He admits. “You had to take an elective and since I was there late…” he shrugs. “Ballroom dancing it was.”

“You must be good, if you started relatively recently but got all the way to competitions.” For you, ballroom had started early. It had been your entire childhood, in a lot of ways. Coven meetings, trips to the library, and baby ballroom.

“A lot of practice, but I have natural grace.” He boasts with a small wink.

It’s bragging, of course it is, but this time it doesn’t run you the wrong way like it has at others. It’s just…like he doesn’t want to admit how much it means to him. “Sounds like you would put that ballroom downstairs to good use.”

“Depends on who I’m dancing with.” He teases. “I don’t think Mrs. Taylor would dance with me.”

“You don’t have a partner?” As soon as it’s out of your mouth you hear it — the sound of you accidentally asking him if he’s seeing anyone when what you meant to ask was if he had a competition partner. And yet? You are curious. In a backward kind of way…

It seems like the question is more loaded than just a dancing partner and he shrugs. “Not for a long time.”

“I hope that changes for you.” It’s meant to be cordial. Slightly more than polite. That’s all. You swear that that is all you meant. The twist and pull vibrating through you and making your stomach turn to knots is far beyond what you swear to yourself that you meant to ask. “I-if you want it to, that is.”

Max nods. “Been a long time since I’ve danced.” He admits. “College.” While he had enjoyed it a lot more than he would ever admit, he had people to prove wrong. The grand ideas of showing his parents how wrong they were and getting revenge on Evan had taken priority and ended up making him lose everything. Even his connection with his soulmate.

“It’s never too late for a second chance.” Your father’s favorite advice, this time, as you sip the cocoa that he made for you and hum in utter bliss. It’s better than Mrs. Taylor’s, but you’ll never tell. “And thank you for this. It’s…really wonderful.”

“Can’t watch a guilty pleasure without snacks.” Max scoffs. “It’s a crime.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be arrested for a lack of popcorn,” you hum, picking up a few more kernels.

He snorts, grinning at you before he takes another sip of his own drink. “Nope. I don’t think orange is your color.”

"I'll trust your judgment on that." You tell him with a smile. "I think you have better fashion sense than me."

"You should start wearing eccentric outfits. Play up the ‘strange owner of the mansion’ bit." He chuckles.

“It takes a lot of courage to be eccentric.” Something that you had once — wearing princess dresses in school pictures and dressing up in wild ballroom costumes — but it’s been a very long time. Too long. All that confidence got lost along the way.

"Fuck it, you're rich." Max shrugs. "Who gives a shit what people think about you?" He asks seriously. "They don't feed you, fuck you or pay your bills."

“So whose opinion do I care about, then?” You ask, half-serious and half-intrigued by the idea, even though you know you don’t have the guts to follow through with it. “Mrs. Taylor is the one who feeds me now, so just her?”

"Those you care about." Max explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Some rando on the street doesn't mean shit. Who gives a damn if that person thinks that you're strange or you shouldn't wear three-piece suits?" He tells you as an example. "You like the way they are cut, how you look, better yet - how you feel wearing them." He might be projecting slightly, but he reels it back in to focus on you. "Those that care about you and you about them, they just want you to be happy. And if dying your hair fuschia and wearing a dress from 1892 while rocking combat boots? They'll love it."

“That’s…very good advice, Max.” And surprisingly sweet. Sweet enough that that invisible wall cracks again, but you don’t voice the thought that it’s been a long time — too long — since you had anyone who truly cared about you like that. And that you’re too terrified to your very core to hope that any of the people you’ve met so far in Newport might grow into that sort of person.

"That's me." Max winks playfully. "Full of good advice and sound investment choices." He teases, just to see if you roll your eyes or get embarrassed.

“I’ll remember that.” Instead of doing either thing he expects, you fluster slightly and turn back to the tv, wondering why you’re having butterflies over something so…Max.

The rest of the show is surprisingly entertaining, both of you offering your opinions on the routines and even rating them. By the time it's over, you're obviously sleepy from the extra snacks and the hot chocolate. Max hums as he looks over and turns off the tv. "You should go get ready for bed, Dolly." He urges you. "I can clean this up."

“I liked Queenie, too,” you hum, smothering a yawn as you reach to put your cup and saucer back on the tray but Max is faster than you. He obviously means it, which means far more to you than you can say. “Good night Max. And thanks for…you know. Everything.”

"No problem, Queenie." He hums, grinning that you like his nickname for you. "Goodnight." You stand and walk out of the room, his dark eyes on you the entire time as he tries to discern why he has the greatest urge to follow you and tuck you in.

Teeth brushed, face washed, and the day stripped away, you climb into bed in your tank top and cotton pajama pants without bothering to look in the mirror. Once you might have stopped, inspected the marks that adorned your skin from the person that the universe decree was the other half of your soul— but they disappeared years ago. Now, alone, you tuck your blankets around you and breathe in the fresh fall air from your open window, hoping that the racing thoughts won’t keep you up and you can end a pleasant day on a pleasant note.

******

He moves like a wisp of smoke. Silent, nearly invisible when he wants to be, which is often. It was how he was so good, instinct and talent can only take you so far. His skills honed through centuries of use. The fact that he was so good was why he was gifted, or cursed, with immorality. He uses it now. Slipping through the halls unseen. Even passing by his protegé without being noticed on his way towards his goal. A single room. A single person. Asleep and vulnerable in her dreams. His teeth flash in a smile, sharp and deadly as he anticipates seeing you again.

Dreams don’t always come anymore, and they certainly don’t come easily when they do. More often stuck in your nightmares, you’re grateful for dreamless sleep. Tonight though, as your head hits your pillow, your unconscious mind has a different destination. The little farmhouse in Indiana where your bedroom was painted sunshine yellow and all your favorite dolls are lined up on the shelf beside your Nancy Drew and Magic Treehouse Club books was always the setting for encountering your invisible friend. Though he visited you everywhere, he would always make sure to tuck you in at night and wish you sweet dreams. Words of kindness and encouragement from a man with curly hair the color of your father’s coffee and a voice tinted and coloured by travel to places unimaginable and beautiful. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in your dreams in longer than you can remember…but his eyes still crinkle in the same kind way…

Standing at the foot of your bed, he observes you. You're different. Obviously. He's not seen you since you were a child. Unable to because of the power magic of your mother. The spell binding until death. While the loss is bittersweet, he greedily takes note of the curve of your cheek and length of your lashes. Frowning slightly when he sees the way that you seem worn, the weight of your life's challenges weighing you down. He steps closer, leaning down and brushing his hand over your hair gently. Touching you with an almost tender yearning and the slight undercurrent of sadness.

The flashes in your dream are slight at first — showing you a great whirling of people and bright colors in amber light with vibrant music in the air. Catches of the image seem familiar but you can’t place them, until you hurry out a side door of the room to step out onto a small porch to a sprawling garden, and you recognize the grounds of the house where you now live. A hand on your shoulder. A soft voice in your ear, thickly accented but familiar.

"What do you think, muñequita?" He asks, gently. "Is it pretty enough for my little doll?"

“It’s beautiful, Yayo.” It’s been so long since he appeared in a dream of yours, yet the moment he does you recognize him instantly. Your sleeping mind has always welcomed him. “Unbelievably beautiful.”

"My greatest dream has come true, my sweet girl." He hums, his fingers curling around your shoulder in a comforting embrace. "Having you here."

Without hesitation, your head finds his shoulder and you welcome the comfort of his frame, feeling his presence even in the dream. Even when you know he isn’t real. In the dream he is as real as you are. “I’ll stay here forever then.”

"I hope you do, muñequita." He sighs, smiling at the thought and turns to press his lips to your temple. "It is my greatest wish. That's why I brought him here for you."

“Who, Yayo?” The embrace feels like being wrapped up in the best hug in the world. (edited)

"It will be obvious soon, my sweet." He promises, kissing you again and inhaling your scent. "Te amo, muñequita." He murmurs. "Te amo."

“Te amo, Yayo.” There is no doubt or hesitation in it. The friend that stepped into your dreams as a child has always defended you, and reminded you through far away memories that the world is vast and mysterious. That so much is possible. It is only the last few years that have made you lose sight of that.

Standing straight, he smiles as he tucks your covers up over your shoulder. Happy that he has seen you again and reached out to you through your dreams. You are no longer the young child that would believe he is your imaginary friend. Stepping back, he watches you sleep peacefully, his muñequita.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #deceased parents #vampires #spooky season

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