#I hope I get to befriend her eventually | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

allysunny · 4 months

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Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear?

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck – it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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meangirls-imagines · 1 month

Note

Heyo! I saw your requests were open and knew I had to slide in on this.

So I was hoping to request something with fem!Reader with Renee Rapps Regina George. That idea is that reader just has absolutely no dirt on her(reader out here being the golden child). Anyway it passes on Regina to no end, especially because she can't intimidate the taller girl.

One day, they are arguing in the halls, and the reader just kinda grabs her by the lapels of her jacket or front of her shirt and pulls her in really close. Says something along the lines of her not being able to do anything and not piss her off. Then a switch just kinda flips in Regina, like, ah shit, did I find that hot?

Anyway, proceed with Regina trying her best to get reader to date her, and it just kinda being brushed off for a while. You do whatever you gotta do, and if you don't wanna do this, totally get it.

..... holy cow, sorry for all of the writing. I just saw you like detailed asks and went overboard. Whoops, anyway, love your writing, and I hope you have an absolutely fabulous day/night!! 💐💐😁

Regina George is a Bottom

Description: Regina is frustrated that Reader doesn't care for her. One day, after an argument, Regina realizes she might not be the apex predator after all.

WARNINGS: reader being a little shit, regina gay panicking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut at the end, slight choking (regina receiving)

Regina considered herself an amicable person.

She liked to think that after dying for 15 seconds, not much could bother her.

Boy, was she wrong.

Y/N Y/L/N seemed to be the only person in the whole school that didn't care what was going on with Regina. For example, when Regina got blasted with the sprinklers, and one girl asked why she hadn't changed her look, Y/N simply responded, "Who cares what makeup look Regina is wearing?"

When Regina got hit by the bus, she received multiple cards from people at school, one being from her entire english class. Even high on pain meds, she noticed the one signature missing. Y/N.

When the teacher asked Y/N to sign it, the girl responded, "Why would I sign a card for something that could've been avoided?"

When Regina healed and came back to school, she made it her mission to at least befriend Y/N. She started trying to make small talk with the girl, only receiving short answers. She tried to invite the girl to sit with her at lunch, only for her to say no.

Regina was about to explode. Why didn't she have an effect on this girl? Why did she seem to not care about her? Why is she so hot?

What?

Regina tried to shake that thought from her head. She wasn't gay. She just thought Y/N was nice to look at. She thought a lot of girls were nice to look at, that didn't mean she wanted to have sex with them.

She wanted to have sex with Y/N. Wait..

Was Regina gay?

She needed to talk to someone gay.

Janis was not surprised to see Regina at her door, asking if they could talk. She knew this day would come eventually and after presenting the Lesbian Masterdoc like a Ted Talk, Regina came to a conclusion.

She was gay. And she wanted Y/N.

Over the next few weeks, she would not take no for an answer from the girl and the blonde is beginning to irritate Y/N. She won't leave her alone. They only share two classes together but Regina has made to her mission to sit next her for both.

Y/N didn't want to admit that Regina was kinda growing on her. She knew how the blonde worked. She knew of her reputation to string people along and dump them. Plus, she wasn't even sure Regina was gay.

The blonde was persistent, Y/N will give her that. She wanted to see how far Regina would go. Or if she would ever tell Y/N if she was gay or not.

Regina was at her breaking point. She had no idea what else to do. She had done all her usual tricks, but none of them were working on Y/N. The girl was like a brick wall. Nothing was getting through to her.

So, Regina did what Regina does best, she made a show out of it.

Boy, did it backfire on her.

She decided to confront Y/N during a passing period, towards the end of it. They both had a free period so it wasn't like they were running late to go anywhere.

"Why do you not like me?"Y/N looked at the blonde confused, closing her locker. "Excuse me?" Regina huffed. "Why don't you like me?" Y/N rolled her eyes. and started to walk down the now empty hall, Regina right on her tail.

"I never said I didn't like you Regina." Regina scoffed. "You don't have to say it. I already know, I just wanna know why." Y/N kept walking, ignoring the question. Regina had enough and grabbed Y/N's arm roughly, turning the girl around.

"Answer me!"

What happened next awoke something in Regina.

Y/N gently wrapped her hand around Regina's throat, squeezing gently. "I'm gonna have to ask you to remove your hand from my arm George. I never said I didn't like you. I know your tricks. But since you're so desperate, tomorrow, 8 o'clock, be ready because I'm taking you out."

Y/N released her grip and walked away from the shocked blonde. Regina stayed rooted to her spot in the hallway. She didn't know if she was horny or nervous. She simply collected herself, walked to her jeep, and drove home, skipping the rest of the day.

After a session with her vibrator, she realized that she was in fact horny and came to the thought of Y/N's hand wrapped around her throat again.

Laying in bed, extremely satisfied, she came to one conclusion.

She was in fact a bottom.

Her conclusion would be confirmed less than 24 hours later, when Y/N had her bent over in the back of her car, strap pounding her pussy until she saw stars.

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls 2024 #mean girls imagines #regina george smut

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riverbutghost · 9 months

Text

Why?

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon made it clear that he disliked you. But after you were captured by the enemy, he decided that was far from the truth.

Warnings: Military stuff (wounds, blood etc.), Slight sexual themes, violence, detailed descriptions of torture but not too much. (I don’t know if I’ve missed anything else. The italics are flashbacks btw.

Masterlist

“Ты говоришь на русском языке?” do you speak Russian?

You tried to catch your breath while the two men were talking in Russian. A cold water was thrown at you.

“посмотри на нее, она такая американка. я чувствую его запах.” He scrunched up his face and looked at you with disgust. look at her, she’s so American I can smell it.

“Aren’t you going to beg, my dear?” He patted your head a little while smiling like a maniac. The Russian accent was so strong that you asked yourself if you knew Russian.

“Aww, she’s such a cutie with a crying face. I love making little girls cry.”

Your face scrunched up and you looked down, not letting them see your tears anymore. It was embarrassing for you, a soldier who was known for her strong facade on the field. But only on the field, they used to say. You smile a lot, lass, Soap used to say. Now you wondered if you were going to see him again.

“Well, either way we will keep you until you die, sweetheart. Take care, Милая.” darling.

The other man smirked and they both got out of the room.

You couldn’t remember what had happened, but you were taken by the Russians.

Your head was pounding and the punch you received from the guy who had called you disgusting pet names was dreadful.

You wiggled your arms, wiggled your neck but no. They weren’t even ropes. They were metal bars. They had pinned your arms, legs and neck to a metal bar.

You were sure you were going to die here.

Suddenly, you remembered your lieutenant’s words from earlier.

He had said, “don’t leave my side. I didn’t want you in the first place but they gave you to me so do as I say. Also, I don’t want to hear you chitchat.”

It hurt you a little, pinched your already broken heart. But you knew better than getting sad. He was Ghost, always mean, always bored. He only joked around with Soap, which was a rare sight. You promised to yourself that whatever he would say, you were going to befriend him. But that didn’t end up like that.

It was rare for you. Usually you would get along with anyone, but Ghost was different. From the beginning, he would always make you feel small, making little comments about how you had a big mouth and he knew how to shut it and blah blah blah which made your face flush.

You were starting to get him though. Or so you thought.

“You know I don’t care what you say, right?”

Your shoulders slumped a little. But your smile came back.

“Well, I don’t care either. That makes us a good team.”

You smiled at him sweetly. Like a child who got what they wanted. He gripped the folders harder.

“Stop smiling and get these papers to Price.”

You kept smiling and took the papers from him.

“We will be friends eventually, sir.”

“I hope not.” He mumbled, making you chuckle a little.

You were always hurt after talking to him, but sucked it up eventually.

He had his issues. He knew better to trust a new soldier. But you were insistent. He was insistent either.

“Are you okay?”

He tensed at you sudden voice, eyes dropping at your soft tone.

“Yes, is there a problem?”

You bit your cheek.

“Why are you so persistent about this?”

He was taken aback by your question. He turned towards you, his skull mask was on.

“What?”

You gripped your blade harder. It was one of those ‘nightmare’ nights. You couldn’t sleep and thought it would be easier to clean your blades. You should’ve known better.

“You try so hard to ignore me or shut me up.”

His eyes were staring right at yours and you felt the need to remove your eyes from his.

“I don’t like bubbly people. And you talk too much, my ears can’t take it anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“You’ll like me eventually-“

His sharp breath shut you up instantly.

“Why do you act like everyone likes you? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You were taken aback by his sudden harsh words. You opened your mouth to speak, again thinking you were going to make him like you. So you said the thing that came to your mind to stop him from breaking your heart more.

“Chill dude-“

You were flushing. What the fuck was ‘chill dude’ ?

“Don’t” He stopped for a second. “don’t ‘chill dude’ me. I’m your superior and you will respect me. Understood?”

You felt your body freeze. He was making it so hard, so hard to befriend him.

“Ghost-“

“Sir, you’ll call me sir from now on.”

You looked down at you hands, trying to find something to look at.

“Yes sir.” You mumbled eventually and got up, scoffing at the tears which were threatening to fall down.

You still remembered the stinging feeling his words had caused you.

You stopped trying to be one of his mates. You stopped talking near him. This made everyone question why, but never asked because Ghost was never in the mood to talk.

Simon thought about the last time he had cared about anything. He couldn’t remember.

But you, you…

You were like a rainbow after a terrible storm. Your smile could lit up the whole world. And after just one look at your face, he knew he should distance himself and not get close to you.

But you had other plans.

After your first mission, he was sure he would get lost looking at you smile.

“How is your leg, sir?”

You asked him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Fine.” He grumbled, voice vibrating through his chest. Your cheeks started getting pinker and he cursed himself.

“Can you get out and call the nurse?”

Your smile wavered a little and you finally turned around. You mumbled under your breath, he figured you were hurt by his words.

“No need to be rude, Lieutenant.”

He couldn’t help it though. You were a ball of happiness and he was overwhelmed. He couldn’t help himself.

He regretted it, but still said nothing.

You didn’t shut up. Ever.

Even if he said the most hurtful comment, you would still forget about it and smile at him. He sometimes questioned your ability to be happy all the time. It was a gift, he was sure.

You were a gift. He wasn’t religious at all, but after seeing you for the first time, he was sure you were a gift from above.

He fucked it up.

He should be relieved, but no. He was angry at himself for attacking you in a sort of fucked up way.

He was using his fucked up mentality to push you away, but he knew better.

Deep down, he knew why he was treating you that way. But he wouldn’t let anyone know this. Not even himself.

“We have to do something, y’know?”

Simon pushed his thoughts away and looked at his superior.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Price pressed his lips harder than usual.

“I interrogated them, they say different things.”

Simon pulled his mask down and got up. He turned towards Price.

“Then maybe you should let me interrogate them.”

Price gave a long and sharp breath.

“What will we have if you kill them?”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. You don’t understand, he wanted to say.

“What do we have, then?” He gave up for the sake of finding you.

“4 locations, Soap searched them. They are all Russians’ and we have to be quick.”

They were more then ready to find their little sunshine. But Simon was stressed, he was freaking out.

They got ready, hopped on their truck and the mission was started.

You weren’t okay.

You were far from being okay.

“Oh, look at her. So sad no one is coming for you?”

You clenched your jaw, immediately regretting it because of the massive headache.

“Speak when I ask you a question, got it ?”

A noise came from your neck at the sudden blow to your cheek.

“Let’s get rid of these bars,”

Your neck suddenly fell down after the metal bar opened. You couldn’t find the strength to look at them.

He gripped your hair and jerked your head to him.

Another guy kicked your abdomen, making you whimper in pain.

“Bastards!”

The guy gripped your hair harder and smacked the back of the gun to your head.

You unintentionally whimpered again.

“What was that? You little pig.”

You were sure there was an internal bleeding in your abdomen.

“That’s enough brother, let’s eat.”

The guy kicked you again in the abdomen and the metal bars opened.

You fell down from your chair.

Your vision was blurry, you were sure you wouldn’t survive in two days. It has been so long, so long.

They were coming, you knew it. Deep down, you were wondering if Ghost was finally relieved. No one was talking his head off or cracking dirty jokes now. Was he keeping them away so you would die alone here?

You closed your eyes, shaking the ridiculous thoughts.

You were tired, so you let yourself go.

“Hey, be fuckin’ quiet!”

Soap gulped and apologized at his Lieutenant. He was extra angry today.

“Sir, what if she’s already dead? This would be a suicide mission then.”

Simon turned towards the recruit.

“Shut your mouth and do what you’re told, kid.”

The soldier fell silent after that. They knew better to piss Ghost off.

“Okay, get ready. In three, two… one!”

Shots were suddenly fired. The Russians were not expecting this, at this hour especially. They were on edge, but their superiors were busy having dinner.

“I’ll look inside!”

Ghost shouted, immediately followed by Soap.

The two got in, killed the guards.

It had been a fucking week, and Ghost felt pathetic to hear your voice. It effected him more than he thought it would.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going downstairs .”

Soap nodded and returned his killing.

Ghost kept his steps low, head raised high in confidence. He pushed through everything in front of him, trying to save his pain in the ass.

He pushed every door, even broke the locked ones down.

There you were, laying on the ground. Looking dead, but your back was slightly moving up and down.

He immediately scanned the room, with nothing he rushed to get you out of there.

He kneeled on his knees and turned you around carefully.

“Sir?”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re strong, sergeant.”

You smiled a little. He checked your injuries’ severity and got you on his back.

“I didn’t think I would- uh- be alive to be honest.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Bite your tongue, Sergeant. You’re one of the strongest soldiers i’ve ever met.”

You smiled a little again. Proudly you closed your eyes.

“Stay, yeah? Don’t want you to die on me, gonna get in trouble because of you.”

Your smile faltered. Here you were, naive little girl.

“Right.”

He knew he fucked up again. But his first mission was get you out of there safely.

You whimpered at the sudden pain in your abdomen.

“What’s wrong?”

Your arms tightened around his neck, not enough to hurt him.

“Hurts-“

A sudden explosion made you two flew into a wall. Ghost groaned and quickly grabbed his gun. He looked around for you.

Everything was happening too quick for his liking. He reloaded his gun and jumped up to his feet.

“No…”

He fired his gun nonstop at the men, who were trying to shoot both of you. He was actually scared for the first time.

He reached to his comm.

“Soap, fuck- come downstairs!”

He swung his gun to the man beside him and rushed to your side. He lifted you bridal style and turned his back on the men.

“Fuck,”

A bullet pierced his shoulder. He eventually put you down behind a desk, flipping the desk over to cover you.

Soap, Gaz and Price came into his view and he relaxed all of a sudden.

“Ghost?!”

Ghost put his arm up behind the desk to show them where you were.

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.” Gaz looked at him in concern.

“Oh, so I’m not hurt then.”

Ghost scoffed at Gaz and picked you up. Gaz rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to the heli.” Price tried to pick you up, but Ghost mumbled something and pulled you to him.

“Ghost-“

Ghost brushed him off.

“Let’s go.”

It had been a week.

After multiple surgeries, you were in intensive care for give days.

The internal bleeding had caused you to lose consciousness and when you woke up in the heli, you vomited blood. On Ghost.

Ghost felt his heart beat faster at that because for a second, he thought you were dying.

You didn’t.

You were awake but still in bed. Soap came to your visit, Gaz did, Price did, even Alejandro did but Ghost didn’t.

You received a lot of gifts from recruits which made you smile. But something else was occupying your mind.

You wondered if Ghost was okay. Soap told you he was shot, said it was nothing for him.

You got up to a sitting position. Immediately holding your abdomen, you cursed. It still hurt like a bitch.

You stood up from the bed and checked the nurse. She wasn’t there so you took the chance to escape from your prison.

You were in a white oversized sweatshirt and nothing else. You weren’t wearing a bra and you thanked the nurse.

You pushed the doors open. You had forgotten the sweaty smell of the hallways. You missed it.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

You flinched at your nurse’ tone and turned around to her.

“I feel good, Amanda. Please,”

Amanda sighed then nodded, allowing you to leave.

“I didn’t see you, then.”

You chuckled a bit and left.

Your mission was now to find your Lieutenant. Ghost. Simon. You never tried to call him by his actual name, knowing his temper and dislike towards you.

You felt nauseous all of a sudden. You didn’t want to find him, you didn’t want to feel unwanted and alone again. Even though your other teammates were always there for you, you wanted him. Why? You didn’t know. Or didn’t want to admit.

You took a deep breath, forgetting about your abdomen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You held your abdomen and mumbled curses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You froze and licked your lips. That wasn’t the scenario you thought it would be. You turned to your side.

“Hi, sir.”

You smiled at him through your pain.

He was wearing his balaclava, his eyes red. You wondered why, then remembered he was shot.

“Are you okay Ghost? I heard that you were shot.”

You took a step forward. He took a step back. You pressed your lips together.

“I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“No.”

Ghost looked straight at your eyes, his bloodshot eyes looked concerning.

“Do as I say, sergeant.”

You shook your head. Not today.

“I’m okay. I wanted to see if you were okay too.”

Ghost’s eyes left yours for a second. He looked down at your abdomen.

“You’re going to open your stitches.”

Your head fell to your side slightly. He looked at you again.

“Are you, okay?” You punctuated for him to understand what you were trying to say.

He sighed.

You took four more steps towards him until you were chest to chest.

He looked defeated.

“I am.” He answered your question, eyes flickering between your mouth and your eyes.

“Can I look at your shoulder? It’s bleeding.”

Ghost furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his shoulder. He knew he shouldn’t be working out in this condition.

“Please let me help, Simon.”

His breath hitched a little, but you heard.

With a newfound courage, you took his hand and lifted it slightly with a cloud-like touch.

“I’m sweaty .” He looked at your eyes.

“It’s okay.” You smiled at him. His eyes traveled all over you and suddenly, he took your hand and started dragging you.

You gasped in shock, but didn’t say a thing. He was acting strange, you didn’t mind it.

Ghost opened the door to his room and after pulling you in, he closed the door.

“What now?” He asked out of breath. You flushed a little.

“Uhm, well. I’ll get your med kit.”

He nodded and showed you the place. He sat down onto his bed.

You came with the medkid, a little shyly.

“Take off your shirt.”

He gulped. You didn’t mean to sound so authoritatively. You helped him by lifting his arm slightly then took off the shirt.

Holy shit, you thought. He was ripped. You cleared your throat and opened the medkit.

“Just try not to move your arm.” He nodded.

You were working on his arm, but his eyes were on you. You shuddered a little feeling goosebumps all over your body. He smirked under his mask.

“I’ve never seen your face.”

“I know?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah no shit. Are you going to show me?”

He shook his head. You pursed your lips in a mock sadness.

But you felt your body freeze as he pulled your bottom lip.

You swallowed hard, forgetting about his wound. He groaned, sound vibrating through his chest. You were melting.

“Oh God, sorry.”

He pulled you on his lap, pulling your legs apart with his hand. You gasped again, feeling a sensation in your lower parts.

“Ghost-“

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from him to focus on his wound.

Quickly cleaning it up then bandaging it, you looked at him.

“I’m going to wash my hands.”

He got up with you on his lap. His hands were on you thighs and your legs were hugging his waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Never letting you go.”

You licked your lips, they suddenly felt dry.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for the way I treated you. But fuck, you are something else. Fucking pain in the ass.”

You chuckled a little and he dropped you near the sink.

“Stay with me?”

You dried your hands then turned around. He was hovering over you, and you liked it.

“Let’s sleep.”

He gulped then grabbed you up in a rush.

“Ow, be careful you ass.”

He put you on to the mattress.

“Let me make it feel good, yeah?”

All of the playfulness left your face after he had said that.

“Oh fuck.”

#call of duty #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of dooty #cod mwf2 #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley fluff

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cupidssorbett · 8 months

Text

"What a cowboy.”

Cowboy/Vaquero Miguel x Ranch-Hand? Reader.(Beautiful art above is by Katromz on tiktok and insta!)

Summary: Miguel ends up trying to befriend his longtime friend and employers niece however maybe befriend isn't quite the word.

Includes: AFAB reader but no specified pronouns/race/looks nothing, flirting/teasing, Nicerish AU Miguel, caught masturbating, Oral M & F, recieving praise, mentions of the word 'cunt/pussy', P in V, as well as not much use of name more nicknames.

P.S Vaquero and Cowboy are the same words for those who don't know, a friend requested this so I delivered! Please pardon any terribly translated Spanish I am still learning and had only few help from a friend of mine! This was a request so thank you to my friend!

Word count: 7766.(it's a long one babes.)

By cupid.

Begin.

You’d been sent out for the summer to help your uncle at his ranch, you didn’t mind too much it’d be giving you more to do than usual. He was happy to have you since most his ranch-hands called out or would be busy trying to fill in the empty spots left by others. So when he heard his favorite niece would be dropping in to help out he was more than delighted.

It was a long, long car ride to his ranch and by the time you had arrived the sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering. You hopped out of your dad’s truck with a smile on your face, your cousin’s Poppy & Nana coming to greet you with enthusiasm, quickly taking your bags. “Look at you two, it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve hung out together!” You say as you nudge Nana’s arm, she laughs a bit as the three of you trudge up the dirt driveway up to the main house.

Poppy opens the door for you as soon as you head inside you hear a squeal from your Aunt Maria, who immediately runs over to scoop you up into a hug. “Sweetheart it has been too long!” She says excitedly as she practically squeezes the air outta you. “I missed ya too aunty but please..please let me go I can’t breathe-!” You manage out as she lets you go, “Oh my! Sorry ‘bout that sugar! It’s just been so long!” She says pinching your cheek a little. “Now, Girls go show her to her room alright? Get all cozy, Jack said he wasn’t gonna have you start work till tomorrow when he can give you the lowdown of everythin’ new.” She said shooing you three up the stairs.

You followed the girls up the stairs as they talked away, you weren’t really invested in the conversation as you looked at all the old pictures that were hung up on the walls. All those old memories made you smile, you were out of it until Poppy pulled you back into reality with a tug on the arm, albeit a hard tug, “You alright there?” She asked, raising a brow at you as nana opened the door to the room, you blinked and flashed her a smile. “Yeah just got a little out of it, this heat whew it is-” “Why don’t we head to the lake!” Nana says with a bright smile as she sets your bags on your bed, cutting you off.

“Oh I don’t know what if your dad needs me here or help with anything I’m not just here to leisure about.” You say as they both sigh dramatically, “C’mon you heard mama, papa’s not gonna need you till tomorrow!” Poppy says crossing her arms, eventually you sigh giving into them and their antics. Excitedly they leave you to get ready telling you to meet them downstairs when done. Once you are ready to go with a little bag that has sunscreen and such inside you hurry downstairs the two girls waiting for you.

You can’t help but grin with their contagious smiles, “Ma! We’re heading to the lake!” Nana calls out to her, “Be safe girls! Be back by sundown too ya hear?” She calls from the kitchen and you all respond with unanimous ‘Yes ma’am!’ before hurrying out the door giggling like a bunch of school girls as you anticipate the cool water of the lake.

It was a bit of a trek until you reached it, shoving branches aside and walking through bushes hoping none of them were poison ivy or poison at all. Once nana pushed a thick willow branch aside you sighed happily, the blue water shining under the high sun. The three of you quickly hurried to the shore finding a nice spot to lay your things.

As you and nana carefully laid things out poppy quickly ditched her shorts she wore over her swimsuit bottoms and ran into the cool water with a loud cheer. She then decided to splash the two of you, causing you to get a cheeky grin. “Oh that’s how it’s gonna be huh?” You asked playfully as you ditched your own shoes and bottoms before running into the water yourself.

The cool embrace of the lake on your warm skin made you feel completely relaxed, until you remembered your motive to run in here in the first place. The time at the lake started with games and running off the rock ledge that overlooked the lake to jump in. Splashing one another or Watching as someone did something dumb for what felt like the 100th time in those hours.

By the time the sun started to settle down in the sky you were resting on your towel as the girls continued to play in the waters. Drifting off into your own daydreams, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the fleeting rays, until you were startled awake by squeal. You assumed something had happened, so you quickly sat up pushing your sunglasses to sit on your head. “What? What happened?” you asked worried, until you saw them giggling over something or more rather..someone.

You let a slight huff at the fact they had you all worried for nothing, you however curiously followed their eyes. Wondering what could’ve caused them to squeal to begin with. Down a good way from your spots on the bank was a man, a rather handsome man you had to admit. Poppy however caught your staring and with a cheeky smile sat beside you, “Ooo! Do I sense a crush perhaps?” She said with a shit eating grin.

Waving her off you stopped staring at the mystery man, “Oh please, You think everything is a crush or love related.” you said, trying to dismiss her packing your stuff away as the sun started to set. Nana was quick to hurry outta the water spotting you and your packing, quickly just tossing her stuff in her bag as you & poppy shook your heads at her mess of a bag now.

All of you hurried back dodging branches and plants until you were on an open stretch the house coming into view, “So..” you started, earning their attention again. “Who was that guy?” you asked, keeping your gaze ahead. You heard the stifled giggles and such from them before nana caught up to you, “He is papa’s right hand man, quite the looker isn’t he?” she teased with a smile. “I suppose,” you said as you walked up the porch steps hearing their squeals and giggles. “But don’t go tellin’ anyone, I barely know that man.” you said sternly pointing at the two of them and they quickly stopped their giggling nodding as you headed inside.

Heading inside your aunt had prepared some dinner for when everyone got back, and as hungry as you were you decided to go and get a shower. Not before your uncle was quick to scoop you up in a hug much to your protest before you fake made a disgusted face before he ruffled up your hair as you headed up the stairs getting a warm shower and some dryer clothes.

After dinner and what not you were sitting upstairs with Poppy & Nana and one or two of the herding dogs, flicking through movies trying to find something to watch. Seeing as none of you could agree on anything it eventually came down to just getting some sleep, the hours at the lake tiring you out and your aunt & uncle calling out a goodnight to you three had reminded you that you’d be out helping in the morning so sleep was a good option.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The birds started chirping and the sun began to peek through the blinds, once it hit your eyes you groaned and began to open your eyes with a squint bringing a hand up to block the bright rays from practically blinding you. Sitting up blinking the sleep from your eyes you took note that it was just you and nana in the room, nana being fast asleep still.

You decided it’d be a good time to wake up and get ready so you could start helping your uncle out, you quickly brushed your hair to look less like you just got up and then you grabbed an outfit from your suitcase that would best suit the chores you’d be doing and the hot summer heat. You quickly made your way downstairs some of the dogs following you, “Mornin’ Sugar!” Aunt Maria called to her as she flipped some pancakes. “Morning Aunt Maria, Where’d poppy run off to?” you asked, snatching up a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter sharing some with the dogs.

“Oh she ran into town to fetch some more seeds for the garden, Jack told me we had extras but I know we didn’t, speakin’ of which since your most likely heading out that way mind giving those breakfast burritos on the counter the boys.” She asked using her spatula to motion to the cloth covered basket. You nodded, finishing the bacon off and grabbing the basket heading out the back door and off the porch to the main farm area and barn.

It wasn’t a long walk by any means, just one that felt long with how the sun sat so high and beating down on you, you spotted your uncle's truck out front of the barn. All the workers either sitting in the bed of the truck or leaning against it, you hurried over with a smile on your face as your uncle spotted you tipping his hat back slightly, a smile coming to his face.

“Hey there sweetheart, whatcha got?” he asked as he got up off the side of the truck walking over. “Aunty asked me to bring these breakfast burritos for you boys.” you said and they all hooted and hollered hurrying off the truck to grab one for themselves making you just laugh and shake your head. “Thank you for that darlin’ , right you all know my niece don’t you?” He asked, raising a brow as a few murmured yes’s and no’s were heard.

“Well you do now,” he said as he motioned to you, moving aside as you gave them all a wave of ‘hello’ then you spotted him, the man from the lake the other day. You didn’t realize you were staring until he made eye contact with you. A rather cheeky smile gracing his lips.

Once they were all done with their burritos the real work began. “Alright, Think you can work on feedin’ all the animals first then we can start on herdin’ the pasture ones back alright?” Your uncle asked and you nodded, “I’m on it!” you said with a smile. “How bout I send someone with ya, we’ve got a few new ones that might need some introduction, How about..Miguel!” your uncle said, clapping his hands together.

You were picking up one of the feed bags off the truck bed when a rather tall and muscular man walked up with a slight smile on his face, “Looks like I’m helpin’ you today sweetheart.” Miguel said, and oh god Miguel was the man from the lake. This realization almost had you dropping the feed bag before you quickly readjusted your hold on the bag. He only chuckled, slightly tilting his head and the brim of his hat up, giving you an even better look at his face, “Come on don’t go fallin’ for me already.' ' he teased at you.

Huffing you adjusted your grip on the bag turning on your heel with a little scoff, “You wish, I would never I barely know you.” You said as you began walking, utter bullshit, you couldn’t lie that his face, his eyes, his damn voice had you enthralled. He only let out a hearty chuckle following you carrying a bag or two of his own, “Then why not get to know me?” He suggested, shaking his head as you sped up your walking speed.

When you finally reached the animals you breathed a sigh of relief, quickly hurrying over to say ‘hello’ to all of them forgetting about Miguel following after you, he stood off to the side as he opened some of the bags watching as you excitedly said ‘hello’ to the ones you knew, all calling them by name then excitedly gasping at the ones you didn't know.

He had to admit he found it amusing, cute even at the way you greeted them all. He had to, he just had to, he cleared his throat which brought you back to your little situation causing you to huff almost and it only made him chuckle as he pushed a feed bag, ready and open your way. You grabbed the bag, opened the pen door and made your way inside without him, starting to fill up all the feeding spots walking about.

Miguel thought this would be a good time to start a conversation, “So, Why do ya keep ignoring me?” he asked and you just hummed in response, “I’m not.” You denied, “Ah-Ah just now you almost did.” He said looking at you, that stupid look on his face had you smiling slightly and rolling your eyes. Trying to look away before he caught it, but oh he caught it. “Hey! I saw that, I made a breakthrough!” He says motioning around to a nonexistent crowd almost proud of himself causing you to shake your head with a slight smile.

You two finished up the feeding chores with relative ease, the tension simply melting away as you two actually got to talking with one another actually getting to know more like he suggested, then you started saddling up some of the horses so they could head out to check for any lost or still loose cattle or sheep. You finished tightening one of the straps, patting the nose of the horse, a smile on your face when it responded with a big sloppy lick to your hand. “Alright, Are we ready to get a move on?” he asked as he took the reins from your hand. “Yep, All saddled up.” you said with a little salute.

“Thank you sugar, how bout you go feed the calves while we’re gone if you're up for it?” your uncle asked, hoping on the horse. “I can’t say no to feeding the calves,” you said with a smile. With a few waves and goodbyes you went off in search of the bottles that had the formula for the calves that were rescued and didn’t exactly take to any cow the ranch had. You grabbed the bucket of bottles and took a seat in the stable stall with one of the babies. Taking the bottle out, the little thing came running and it made you laugh.

You held the bottle up for it and at first it went well until it didn’t somehow, something had gotten on the shirt underneath your overalls and that was not sitting well on your skin with heat in the air. So you thought, hey they wouldn’t be back for maybe an hour or two at most so you unclipped the clips of your overalls and took the shirt off letting it rest on the table that had all the tools and such then you clipped your overalls back up and when right back to taking care of the calves.

To you only 30 maybe 40 minutes had gone by so you still weren’t too worried about putting that shirt back on or heading back to the house as you happily wandered the stable saying ‘hello’ to the horses that stayed behind. Blissfully unaware that Miguel had headed back to grab the hat he had forgotten, quickly making his way inside of the stable. Stopping his tracks quietly when he spotted you petting one of the horses and it seemed innocent enough until his eyes seemed to wander lower..to the point where he noticed you were not wearing a shirt under your overalls. And not wanting to make you uncomfortable or wanting to make anything else happen he just gave up grabbing his hat and left as quietly as possible.

When you had assumed they’d be coming back you went and got the shirt off the workbench and put it back on quickly as the cowboys came into view. You put on a smile and looked ahead as they made their way over and started hopping their horses all saying their ‘hellos’ and such but Miguel just completely ignored you, was he not going on about you ignoring despite barely knowing him earlier? What a hypocrite.

You just shrugged it off, what would it matter really, you said a quick ‘hello’ to your uncle as you checked the time, you had promised you’d spend the last few hours before the sun actually set at the lake with the girls and you had to depart to get ready. Simply brushing off Miguel ignoring you, you went back to the main house to change and once you were done you headed off however little did you know you’d spend your time alone at the lake..well for a little bit at least.

You relaxed on the bank for a little bit taking in the sun's rays after applying sunscreen of course, waiting thinking maybe they’d got busy or something. So you went from enjoying the water to resting on the shore to reading the book you brought until you exhaled a bit annoyed. You got up, gathered your things, slipped your shorts back on and made your way back to the main house in a slight huff.

When you opened the door your aunt seemed to pick up on your bad mood, “What’s the matter pumpkin?” she asked as she dried her hands with the towel. “The girls told me to meet them at the lake and then they just didn’t come!” you said with arm motions. She seemed to shake her head and sigh, “Well if your looking to pick a bone with them they might’ve gone down to the guest house to deliver the fruit like I asked, the one where the cowboys are stayin’.” She said, giving you a little nod. You thanked her begrudgingly before starting your way to the guest house, saying hello to the cowboys you saw as you headed by whether they were lugging hay or simply just passing by.

You got to the guest house and opened the front door, it was rather empty, and you didn’t hear any giggling, not even a hint of your cousin’s voices, you raised your brow carefully making your way down the hallway. You continued until you saw a door slightly creaked open, you neared it hoping maybe your cousin’s were just fooling around here and that you could drag them back. But that idea quickly evaporated as you neared closer you heard..grunts? At first you thought it was one of pain but when you got a view of what was behind the just barely opened door you quickly realized it was not one of pain rather of pleasure.

There Miguel laid on presumably his bed, legs spread slightly, cowboy hat resting lazily over his head, pants just barely down his thighs as his head moved up his hard erection..precum leaking from the red angry tip. You couldn’t help but stare, biting back the gasps with a hand over your mouth. His teeth sucking his bottom lip back slightly exposing his sharp canines that had you feeling some kind of way, but oh boy it just got better as soon as you mindlessly dropped your hand from your mouth he muttered out your name, “Dios... Ni siquiera sé cómo me hiciste esto..(God... I don't even know how you did this to me.)” He murmured out in Spanish as he hissed when he glided his thumb over the leaking slit.

Miguel was lost in his own thoughts, his mind flitting back to when he saw you in the stable in nothing but your shoes and overalls. He groaned out as he moved his hand up, he knew it was wrong and dirty not just for the fact that he was just getting to know you but the fact he wished it was your hands and not his then he was snapped back to reality by a noise..

You gasped and your gasp got his attention causing you to quickly hide behind the wall before he could spot you, when you heard him moving off the bed you were quick to run as quietly down the hallway. Your feet carried you quickly as you hurried out of the guest house not wanting to get caught in the slightest.

Your heart felt like it was in your ears, your cheeks felt hot, hell your whole body felt hot. You hurried quick and fast to the main house, your feet just carrying you inside as you gave a quick ‘hello’ to your Aunt before going to your room flopping onto your bed. Burying your head into your pillow and just screaming muffling it.

God..he was thinking about YOU? That had your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest, you rolled onto your back as you stared at the ceiling that moment replaying in your head causing you to subconsciously rub your thighs together before you brought your hands up to smack your cheeks, mentally cursing yourself for feeling this way.

Huffing you sat up on the bed grabbing your journal you brought with you, “God..Was he really thinking about me? But why,” you murmured as you flipped out the journal trying to write it out of your mind at least so you could push it off and act as if normal. By the time you finished you were called down for dinner and you just inhaled and exhaled pushing it to the back of your mind shoving the Journal under your pillow and heading down.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

By the time dinner was done you and poppy were helping with the dishes as a few of the cowboys stopped by to drop off some stuff and there he was again, you quickly looked away as he spotted you offering you a sweet smile and tilt of his hat. You only just ignored him continuing your conversation with poppy and working on the dishes.

When you finished you quickly dried your hands not wanting to stick around for very long you couldn’t even fathom why seeing him again got you so much more worked up than it should. “I’m headin’ to bed really tired, Night everyone!” you called quickly as you hurried up the stairs to your bedroom causing Miguel and a few others to raise a brow before just brushing it off to turn to their own things.

You inhaled sharply and exhaled laying onto your bed, your hands traveling gingerly down your stomach to the hem of your pj shorts. Your fingers slipping past the hem of the shorts to your panty clad cunt, exhaling slightly as your fingers brushed over your cunt that slight pressure you added caused your body to melt slightly into your pillows. Your mind clouding with thoughts of him, before the sound of someone coming upstairs snapped you back to reality.

You quickly pulled away from your shorts and grabbed a random book from the nightstand to act as if you were reading. Poppy and Nana came bursting in with a movie for the three of you to watch and you all but sighed happily as it was something to completely take your mind off it.

The movie was put in and the lights were turned off getting all cozy in your beds and watching the movie until you all but fell asleep..

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

For the next few days you did your best to keep your distance from Miguel but your hard-headedness to stay away from him only had him more intrigued and always earned a laugh from him because you always denied his questions whenever he asked one and you denied his help just to make it easier, but it seemed to fail every now and again considering your help to your uncle’s work and with him always having the cowboys with him you only ever saw him everyday..

The next morning came and you decided you’d just avoid Miguel completely and only interact if you just HAD to interact with him thinking that it would be best especially because of the way you made him feel and with the way he had you feeling even if you were just getting to know him better.

Today you dawned a nice summer dress as you were going to help your Aunt in the garden to keep a distance between you and him. You put on a sun hat and followed your Aunt out to the garden to work on the precious marigolds she had planted that were getting swallowed by the pesky weeds.

Dropping down onto your knees and getting to work right away you heard a clatter of tools causing your head to whip around to where it came from, and god fucking dammit you swore nothing was on your side this week, it was miguel, tool belt beside him and a few fence posts as he shot you an apologetic smile. “Sorry bout’ that didn’t mean to startle you act like I’m not here.” you only hummed in response, turning your attention back to the flowers.

Digging into the dirt yanking weed after weed out as the sun began to rise high into the sky above, causing you to start to sweat under the hot rays. You huffed sitting back on your heels as you dusted your hands off of dirt with the exception of some stuck under your nails. Miguel heard your little huff and his eyes happened to wander your way, gazing unapologetically up your figure, your flushed face and slightly pouted lips catching his attention.

He cleared his throat slightly, turning his attention back to the fence, “You doin’ alright Miss?” he asked, tipping his hat back slightly. You just hummed in response earning a small frown from him, “What?” you asked, raising a brow. “How come you keep ignorin’ me, I thought we were making progress?” he said as he looked at you.

“Well, You started it when you came back from the stable that day and completely ignored me.” you shot back as you crossed your arms, “I did not I was just busy,” he said more matter of factly. The way he seemed so hurt by your antics had you feeling bad almost, you eventually sighed dropping your arms to your side. “Alright fine I have been but I ain’t telling you why, BUT I will make a better effort to stop ignoring you I suppose.” You said and you watched as his face brightened slightly.

“Well I think I’d be the happiest cowboy around,” He said with that stupid smile, “You're so weird.” You stated, shaking your head and turning your attention back to the weeds. He only laughed and went right back to his job, that’s what sparked the two of you talking again, you knew deep down you weren’t gonna be able to ignore him even if you tried because that really only made things awkward so you decided it would be best to try and be his friend.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

That is how you spent some of your days, getting to know him and then spilling your feelings to your little diary and then going right back at being friendly, well one fateful day you made the mistake of leaving your diary not entirely under your pillow.

You were helping Miguel lug some hay to the truck and you exhaled, noticing the way your skin was getting a little red, “Damn, Hey Miguel could you go to my room and grab my sunscreen for me? I’ll finish loading up the hay if you do.” You said giving him a little smile and he sighed with a laugh. “Alright alright I’ll go fetch it, Where would I find it?” He asked stopping in his tracks.

“On the nightstand!” You called back as you grabbed another bale, he nodded giving you a little salute before setting off. He headed inside offering a polite ‘hello’ to your aunt before going upstairs finding your room and heading inside. Originally he was just here to grab the sunscreen and go but a little book peeking out from behind your pillow had him curious.

He stopped for a moment before he eventually caved and carefully picked it up in his hands, just a peek, it wouldn’t hurt really. Just a peek turned into reading some pages and skipping others, that was until he stumbled upon some of the more..explicit pages and they seemed to be about him. God he felt his pride swell, the way you thought about him and looked at him.

“Well damn little lady..” Miguel murmured with a slight smile on his face before he shut the journal, having now learned about your developing crush on him and the way you thought about him. He grabbed the sunscreen and headed back down and out with a curt tip of his hat.

You noticed when he was walking back he had a little beat to his steps causing you to smile and raise a brow as you took the sunscreen from him. “What’s got you so happy go lucky?” you asked as you applied some on your face and arms and he just hummed in response. “Eh no particular thing, can’t a man just be happy hm?” He teased you and you playfully swatted at his arm. Once you were all good with the sunscreen you two got back to work, all the moving and feeding and more moving of stuff had you both out till the sun was settling near the mountain tops.

“Hm, Looks like we should start headin’ back Miguel.” You said looking at the way the sun was settling, “Ah right, can’t believe the day slipped away from us that damn quick.” He said as he adjusted his hat to sit back on his head slightly, you couldn’t help but admire his features slightly before snapping yourself out of it. “Miguel, I was wondering if you, I mean if you and any of the cowboys would like to come down to the main house for a lunch of sorts,” Miguel smiled coyly at your little invitation, “Oh? You're inviting little ol’ me huh?” he said his smile went from coy to smug and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“You wish, I’m doing it as a request from my aunt.” You said lying through your teeth, no you were wholeheartedly inviting Miguel, using your aunt as an excuse so he didn’t see right through you. However that was long gone really, he already saw right through you, you and your dirty little thoughts with the way you looked at him and what he learned from your diary. He dramatically put a hand over his heart, “I am truly honored sugar,” he joked causing you to roll your eyes again starting your way back to the main house.

His smile never leaving his face,”See ya tomorrow sweetheart,” he laughed as you turned away from him quickly heading back to the main house to wash up for dinner, he knew damn well what he was going to do tomorrow to get you alone and he couldn’t wait.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

He spent his day counting down the minutes till he could meet you for lunch well you and your family really, when he saw how the time neared closer he had gone back to the guest house to freshen up opting for a nicely pressed shirt, one of his nice belts, and some jeans that he knew you thought looked damn good on him. Grabbing his hat swiftly and the sunflowers he got just for today.

Making sure he didn’t look too eager he toned down his steps and his excitement, knocking on the front door adjusting his grip on the flowers. He heard you call out ‘I got it!’ before your footsteps followed, opening the door you were the picture of summer. Wearing a nice little sundress, hair more loose and free, and a smile creeping its way onto your face. “Howdy little miss.” He said his southern drawl coming out more has he held the flowers out to you.

You accepted them gratefully, “Miguel you really didn’t have to-” “I wanted to sugar, there’s a difference.” He hummed as he walked inside with you greeting your aunt and uncle with his usual polite demeanor and then greeting your cousins with that smile of his. You couldn’t help but grin, going and finding a vase for the flowers. “He’s a real nice boy ain’t he?” your aunt asked, having noticed your grin.

Still subconsciously smiling as you filled the vase with water you shrugged, “Yeah I suppose he is.” She just laughed a bit as she brought the food and drinks to the table with you following behind her setting the beautiful sunflowers as the centerpiece. Calling everyone to the table for lunch, you settled into your seat, Miguel sitting in the seat beside you which was across from your uncle so they could continue whatever conversation they were having.

You all served yourselves and then conversations began, it felt like most lunches with the addition of Miguel, little did you know what he was planning. He knew how the herding dogs were so when your aunt went to grab the pitcher of juice he sneakily tossed a piece of food underneath the table causing all of them to make a run for the food bumping your aunt’s chair, the pitcher of juice ended up splashing all over your sundress causing you to squeal and jump up.

You quickly excused yourself to hurry up stairs to remove the splotches of color that had begun to seep into the fabric more and more. Miguel excused himself as well, saying he had a call to take and it was rather important. Your family thought nothing of it, just hoping you’d be alright. He headed up the stairs with ease as he heard the sink start to run. Inside you had grabbed a cloth and began to rub at the stains without much thought.

Then a knock sounded and you sighed thinking it was your Aunt or cousins you opened it, it was Miguel. “Ah- I’m sorry I’m tryin’ to-” Miguel cut you off, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I know how to get pesky stains out especially ones that ruin such a nice dress.” You blinked the nickname felt less innocent for some reason especially with the way he was looking at you.

You cleared your throat allowing him to come in and shut the door as he kneeled down digging through the cabinets, “Ah here we are,” He said holding some bleach, “This oughta help somewhat.” He hummed as he dabbed a cloth with some leaning forward looking at you for your permission. You nodded slowly and he brought the cloth to one of the stains, wiping gently. His touch so gentle and soft had your stomach erupting in butterflies.

You felt your arousal grow slightly from his little touches and ministrations and the way he always looked to you with those eyes as a way of asking. You couldn’t help but stare at him, analyzing his features and then a chuckle erupted from his chest causing you to snap back to the situation. “Darlin’ If you keep staring at me that way I might just have to do what your little diary says.” the mention of your diary as your cheeks flushing red and your heart speeding up more than it was before. “I beg your pardon?” was all you could manage out.

He chuckled, setting the cloth aside and moving closer, “I didn’t wanna tell you this sugar but I’ve read your little journal and all the thoughts you think bout me.” He whispered softly against your ear causing you to shudder slightly. “Miguel I can explain-” You started, “Shh, Shh no need sweetheart, I know exactly what you need.” He said softly as he leaned closer, his lips hovering just away from yours. “Question is, do you really want this?” He asked wanting to really make sure this wasn’t some wet dream or that it wasn’t you who felt this way. You swallowed hard as you exhaled shakily, nodding, “Words sugar.” He said softly against your lips. “Yes Miguel, Please.” You pleaded slightly and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Goodness little miss your going to be the death of me.” He teased before your lips met.

It started out soft and sweet then grew into something more passionate and rough as his hands rested on your hips, his thumbs tracing patterns on the cloth that covered them. You pulled away for air, your breathing coming out in small pants and huffs. “Look at you..Kiss bitten lips all needy for me.” Miguel said with a slight smug smirk, “I’m not needy.” You shot back at him with a small huff.

His hand went from your hips to your thigh working up to your panty covered clit, a gasp eliciting from your throat. “Not so needy huh?” he teases as he rubs a thumb over your covered clit groaning at the way your arousal has made your panties wet. “Not-Not needy at all,” You managed out as a whine followed your words when his hand moved away.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t,” He started before you sighed, “Please Miguel..” You murmured, earning a smile from him, “Please what?” he said, pushing you on. “I need you.” you whined out earning a satisfactory chuckle, his hands found your waist and he hoisted you up to sit on the counters of the bathroom. His lips immediately find your inner thigh, sucking marks into the soft skin.

His hands wander as you let out small gasps and cries trying to be quiet, as you beg for him, as you beg TO him. God he never really thought his little idea would work but here he was buried in between your thighs, what a dream. His lips inched closer and closer to where you wanted him, he gently pulled your panties down and off. Then he licked a slow stripe up your folds eliciting a moan from you causing you to cover your mouth.

You could practically feel the smile he had on his face, he began eating you out like you were the last meal he’d ever eat. His tongue working your leaking hole then focusing directly on your clit. Humming gently when his lips wrapped around the sensitive bud causing a guttural noise to slip past your hand. His pace is unforgivable with the way he’s eating you.

He acts like he's a starved man eating the most delicious food alive and he just can’t stop, one hand keeping your thighs apart and the other massaging the soft supple skin. The way he alternates between tongue fucking you then sucking at your clit has your head in the cloud feeling like your on cloud nine.

Without warning he shoves two fingers in causing you to gasp at the surprise feeling, his fingers working slowly but surely in a soft pace to give you time until you're practically begging for more and he gives you more. His fingers curl in the right spots as he pumps his fingers in and out of you sloppily kissing and licking at your clit.

All the stimulation has your head reeling as a knot forms in your stomach, he doesn’t stop, he makes direct eye contact with you with that smug smile on his face as the knot snaps. Your velvety walls spasming around his fingers as you orgasm, your eyes shut tight as he laps up all of it slowly letting you down from your high as you exhale sharply when he removes his fingers.

His hands come to make quick work of his belt and jeans bringing his boxers and jeans just low enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out. You can’t help but stare as he works it slightly, your mouth practically hanging open at the sight of it, precum beading at the tip as he works it slightly lining his head up with your entrance.

He looks to you for another affirmation and you nod looking up at him with those pleading eyes again and he can’t say no to you. He nudges his head in before plunging in full force eliciting a loud moan from your lips and groans from his with how tight you are around him. “God..So tight, such a good girl I swear.” he murmurs as he begins thrusting into your cunt, the praise causing your pussy to flutter around him. He acknowledged this with a little smirk.

“You like that huh? You like being my good girl,” He huffs out earning a whine from you, he lands a small slap to your ass causing a yelp to fall from your lips. “I asked you a question.” He said gruffly his change in attitude had your stomach feeling butterflies. “Yes, Yes s’good Miguel!” You cried out as his pace became relentless. His smirk remained at the way you reacted to all of this. His hands have a grip on your hips that’ll most definitely bruise without a doubt.

His face finds itself in the crevice of your neck placing soft kisses and words of praise into your ear, your mind practically melts from all of this as he fucks you with such a pace, the sound of skin slapping and your muffled whines and cries becoming evident as he continues on. Your legs come to wrap around his back slightly as he pulls his face away to watch where you two connect. “Tan condenadamente apretada, tan buena para mí.(So damn tight, so good for me.)” He managed out as your walls fluttered around him, having a vice on his cock.

“That feel good? Hm?” he asked knowing damn well your practically fucked dumb at this point, nodding your eyes fluttering open as he comes to rhythmic pace that’s hitting all the right spots for you. He continues to praise you and kiss up your neck leaving marks occasionally just because he can. With the way your walls clench around him he can tell your close, his free hand comes down to rub circles on your clit making you gasp and your head loll back onto the mirror behind you.”So damn needy for me..Taking all you can get.” he chuckled out.

“I’m not needy,” you managed out best you could as you took his hat from him, He shook his head at your hard-headedness “Eres tan terco…(You are so stubborn..)” He huffed out with a chuckle, quickly taking his hat back from you as you shot him a mischievous smile even in your mind melted state. Rolling your hips eliciting a groan from the cowboy who tossed his head back, his hat covering his face.

He hums slightly, leaning down to plant kisses on your collarbone and shoulder, “That’s how you wanna play huh?” he murmurs into your skin, his pace picking up almost knocking the air out of you, the lewd noises that spill from your lips spur him on, and that familiar knot tightens in your stomach, then the coil snaps and your cunts warm walls restrict around him and he can’t help but groan before he quickly pulls out before he can cum. Causing a small whine from you at the loss of feeling full.

“You wanna play games then we can play games sugar.” He says as he brings you off the counter onto your knees, you swallow thickly as you gently kitten lick the tip of his cock, soft and slowly. Teasing him with it, earning low groans and even slight whines from him. You don’t get very far with your tricky endeavors before he bucks his hips slightly causing you to gag around it. “Sorry bout that darlin’ just can’t help myself.” he says with a slight smile.

You start a steady pace, your hands resting on his thighs as you bob your head back and forth, your nose touching the tip of his pelvis before you pull off of him just to tease him again. He groans out before laughing slightly, his hand coming to find itself behind your head. “God you are just a little tease ain’tcha.” he says before thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly and pat his thighs. Tears welling in your eyes.

“Shh shh, it’s alright just relax.” He says softly and you try to, finding a steady breathing pace through your nose and relaxing your throat slightly. He begins face fucking your practically, drool coming to spill from the side of your mouth and nose tickling his pelvis as the hums you produced in response to his praises elicited groans and huffs from him.

His pace was rhythmic until it became erratic, his breathing becoming more uneven, “Don’t think I’m gonna last any longer.” Miguel huffs out as his pace becomes more needy. You hum around him and he groans, begging you to do that again and you oblige, humming around his length gagging slightly. The sensations send him over the edge after a few more thrusts his cum spurts down your throat causing you to swallow out of reflex, he slowly pulls out a string of spit connecting him to your kiss bitten drool covered lips. God the sight of alone could have had him going again he leaned forward wiping a thumb over your lip to wipe the drool away as you swallowed.

He planted a small kiss on your temple, “You're just perfect darlin’.” He praises making you smile slightly as he helped you stand up, a hand resting on your hips. “Maybe we should head back down, Wouldn’t want your family to worry too much.” you hummed in response, “I’m gonna change first, you go on down.” you said softly planting a kiss to his cheek as you carefully exited the bathroom to go back to the room.

Could this be the start of something real with this cowboy?

Fin.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #cupidssorbettlibrary #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #cowboymiguel #cowboy

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daisynik7 · 5 months

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Author's Note: Attended a wedding yesterday and those always get me weepy. 🥹 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Inside the church, several pews behind the altar, you and Nanami stand beside each other, watching the bride walk down the aisle. A coworker of yours, someone you befriended throughout the years, is getting married today. She glides in her beautiful wedding dress, tears glittering in her eyes as she gazes at her soon-to-be husband just a couple feet ahead of her. Her father kisses her cheek, whispers something sweet into her ear, then leaves the two lovebirds to smile and giggle at each other before the officiant begins. That’s one of the things you like to focus on the most during weddings: the way the couple looks at each other. Seeing how much they absolutely cherish one another.

You’ve been to plenty of weddings now throughout your lifetime. Church, destination, even one at a Vegas chapel. No matter where it is, you always end up crying by the end of it, full of love and hope for the couple. Same as you were the day you and your husband got married all those years ago.

Before you can search your purse for a tissue, Nanami reaches into his pocket, handing you a clean one. You bite your lip, holding back a smile, taking it to blot the tears collecting in your eyes. Of course he’s prepared, he always is. He knows how mushy you get at these things. Without saying a word, he slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, squeezing the side of your belly twice to get your attention. You peer up to meet his gaze, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“What?” you mouth.

He shakes his head, whispering back. “Nothing.” All his attention is on you rather than the couple up in the front.

You nudge him gently in the ribs, grinning. “What?”

He bows slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

You lean against him, always a perfect fit by his side. Joking, you say, “You better not be thinking anything naughty. We’re inside a church.”

He chuckles. “I suppose I’ll have to confess my sins later then.”

You remain like this until the vows, exchanging subtle touches during your favorite parts of it. Eventually, your left hand finds his to hold. He feels for the ring on your finger, the one he placed on you at your own wedding. It’s as if it happened both yesterday and centuries ago. Each passing day is just as exciting as the last, but it seems like you’ve known each other in this life and all the other past lives from before. Nanami squeezes your hip once more. “I’d do it all over again, you know.”

“What?”

“This. With you.”

You beam at him, tears returning to your eyes. “Yeah?”

He smiles back at you, genuine and sincere, like he always is. “In a heartbeat. I’d do it a million times over if it means I get to spend forever with you.”

He always knows exactly what to say to make your heart swell the same way it did the moment you fell in love with him. “Well, lucky for you, one time is enough.”

#nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #nanami drabbles

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vioartemis · 6 months

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Mrs Ortega

(Jenna Ortega x fem! reader)

Summary: Wednesday made Jenna famous, and put in danger your relationship Warnings: angst :)) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

You had known Jenna since forever, as you were neighbors back in the days. Naturally you became friends, and eventually started dating in 2020. You spent most of the pandemic together, as no one could really work at the time, and after that you tried to accompany her as much as possible on her shootings.

She had tried to convince you not to, aware that it was a huge sacrifice you were making for her, but you didn’t listen. You took online classes while she was working, and when she came back, you would spend the night together.

Your girlfriend had been busy with the shooting of Wednesday for the past few months. You had traveled to Romania with her and befriended her castmates.

The series was about to have its premiere, and Jenna wanted you to accompany her to the event. And of course you said yes, because how could you deny her?

“How do I look?” she asked, stepping out of the bathroom

“Stunning, as always” you replied with a bright smile, looking her up and down

You took her hands in yours, pulling her a bit closer, and pressing your lips on hers in a tender kiss.

“You rock that look Jen, seriously” you smiled “The black dress and veil… everything is perfect”

“Yeah? Well I hope one day I will wear it in white with you waiting for me down the aisle” she said with a little smirk

You felt your cheeks burn at the thought.

“A-are you talking about… getting married?”

She nodded with a smile.

“I know you’re the one, Y/n. You’re my soulmate, I’m sure of that. Don’t you want to become Mrs Ortega?”

“Y-yeah I-I mean- of course! I’d love to marry you” you kissed her softly “I just wasn’t expecting you to talk about that right now”

“So it’s a yes?”

“Of course it is”

The series had been released a month ago, and it was a success. Wednesday’s popularity was worldwide, and so was Jenna’s. She wasn’t unknown before that, but now she really was famous.

You were happy for her, seeing her career take a new turn like that, but you had to admit she was acting weird lately. You tried to talk about it, but every time she assured you she was fine. You ended up thinking she was just getting used to be super popular.

Jenna had finished her day and you were waiting for her, swimming in the hotel’s pool. She texted you a few minutes ago, telling you she would be here soon but that her agent wanted to talk to her first.

You wondered what her agent could be telling her, imagining different scenarios, before your attention was caught by footsteps coming towards you.

You swam in her direction, a big smile on your face, as she sat on the edge of the pool, legs in the water. You put your hands on the ground, ‘trapping’ her between your arms, and lifted yourself up to kiss her lips.

She kissed back, but you could feel something was off.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, back in the water

Jenna wasn’t looking at you, but you could see on her face that she was not okay.

“Jen, you can talk to me… I’m here, I’ll always-”

“Y/n.” she cut you off “I- I’m sorry I… We can’t continue…”

“What…?” you frowned, completely lost

She took a deep breath.

“My agent… He told me that being with a… a ‘nobody’ wasn’t good for my career, now that I start to be more famous…”

You couldn’t believe your ears. The words were stuck in your throat; it took you a minute to be able to say something.

“Are you serious…? Y-you’re ready to throw everything away because your agent told you it wasn’t good for you career?”

“Y/n-”

“But nobody cares who you’re in a relationship with…!” your voice broke as you tried to hold back a cry “Jenna please… Y-you can’t do that… I- you’re everything to me, I can’t lose you… I-if it’s really a problem w-we can see each other in secret or… or…”

Your eyes were filled with tears, and it was taking you all your strength not to break down in front of her.

“W-we can’t, the paparazzi would find out eventually… I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would end this way… I- I love you so much… But I have to…”

You could hear that she didn’t want to do it either.

“Jen please… There has to be another way… I… We were talking about getting married and… and now we would just stop like that…? No, please… I-I’ll do anything…”

She finally looked at you. You saw the tears in her eyes, the look on her face, the way her bottom lip shivered. You knew nothing you would say would change anything.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered

The ache in your throat only grew stronger, preventing you from speaking.

Jenna stood up, and gave you one last look before walking away, leaving you alone in the pool with your broken heart, tears flooding down your cheeks.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

A few months had passed since the forced breakup, and you were still not doing okay. You felt empty, as if a part of you left with her that day.

And the pain… The pain never left. Sometimes it was so high you felt like you would throw up on the spot. Seeing her happy during interviews or events, or even on TikTok or Pinterest felt like a stab to the heart.

You honestly didn’t know how you were going to live without her. She was the love of your life, your soulmate…

Sometimes you wished she never became famous. Then you felt guilty for thinking about that. But again, if she never became famous you would still be together. Happy.

Your phone rang. It was your best friend, worried, as always since it happened. You picked up with no energy.

“Hey… how are you feeling?”

“… I don’t wanna talk right now…”

“Okay um… Do you want me to come over? We can play some games or-”

“I just wanna watch TV…”

You could ear her sigh on the phone.

“I understand what you’re feeling but… staying alone isn’t going to help you… I’m always here if you need me, call me when you feel like talking”

With that, she hung up.

You put your phone down, turning your attention back on the TV. You were changing the channels, trying to find something you actually wanted to see, when you saw her.

A part of you wanted to change the channel. The other told you to stay. To stay, and try to see if she showed any sign of missing you. Of being sad. Of anything that could prove she cared about you and regretted breaking up.

She was beautiful, as always. She was being interviewed by a random journalist, a smile on her face. The same smile that sent butterflies in your stomach every time you saw it. The same smile that made you fall in love with her all over again. The same smile that was hurting you so badly at the moment.

You couldn’t help but have flashbacks of the moments you spent together; your first dates, first kiss, nights cuddling comfortably, laughs at the stupidest things possible, playful fights while playing video games, discussions about eventually getting married… and when she told you it had to end.

You didn’t realize you were crying until your eyes started to hurt. You didn’t even bother whipping your tears away.

“… I should’ve stayed in the pool and drowned so I didn’t have to watch you leave…”

You thought you would never be happy again. It just hurt too much.

If she looked happy on screen, as soon as she was alone and away from the cameras, Jenna let her mask fall. She was as devastated as you if not more, knowing that she was the one to hurt you.

She never wanted that. All she wanted was to be with you.

She really meant it when she said she wanted to marry you. But her agent and her family put so much pressure on her, to do anything for her career, that she had to leave the most important person in her life.

She thought about you all the time. She even tried to message you multiple times. But she never seemed to find the right way to do so.

“I don’t know where you are right now…”

That sounded weird.

“Did you see me on TV?”

That sounded pretentious, and made it look like she didn’t care about what happened.

“I try not to hate myself just because you’re mad at me…”

That sounded like she was trying to make herself the only victim in the situation.

But she did hate herself. She fucked everything up.

It was destroying her from the inside, taking all her energy. She just wanted to sleep with you in her arms, like you used to.

She wanted everything back. Your laugh, your smile, your voice, your shitty jokes, your kisses, your hugs… You.

She wasn’t happy without you.

She found no pleasure in anything, no joy in things that used to make her happy. Her favorite food didn’t taste good anymore, her favorite song didn’t sound good anymore…

Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t broken up with you. Maybe you would be married by now. She could call you her wife. You would be happy together.

These thoughts only hurt her more and made her feel like more of an asshole than she already felt.

She just wished she could go back in time and tell you that even if everyone was telling her to leave you and think of her career, she was choosing you. Tell you how much you meant to her. How you made her life better. How she couldn’t be happy without you.

But she couldn’t. And she would forever regret what she did that day.

a/n: this was highly inspired by that TikTok :))

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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clubforfrogs · 27 days

Note

Heyyy, SLIP UPS- AWESOME, WOMAN HOW DO U DO THIS-?

Also a request...!!! M so excited!!

Sirius black x reader snape

Basically snake's younger sister, is constantly bullied by the marauders, cuz of snape yk yk, especially on her make up preferable her foundation, after lots of teasing and bullying, she lashes out on sirius n removes her makeup to show a huge scar imprinted on her face. Cuz of her family issues n stuff. I leave how sirius reacts and their bonding up to you.

I LOVE UR WRITING SM, I SWEAR ITS SO GOOD. M NOT EVEN LYING. UR MY SOUL WRITER.

French love from dxb, Mon cherie

Um hello?! You’re literally the sweetest🫶🫶. I also love this request so much, so I hope I did it justice. I came up with this little blurb- I really hope you like it!

I’m currently working on a Sirius ask and a little James blurb- so keep on the look out for those.

Of All People - Sirius Black x Reader

~ 1.7k words

•

Now let’s be clear, you loved your brother, but some deep, shameful part of you resented him for the attention he attracted. Your parents had instilled posh pureblood ideologies into your heads from young ages. Luckily, you were able to see through their bullshit. Severus wasn’t so lucky.

He brought that thinking into Hogwarts, and was ecstatic when both you and him were sorted into Slytherin, where he took no time at all befriending other air headed Slytherins who thought the same. This, along with the simple fact of his existence, brought the full wrath of the marauders down on your brother, which also trickled down to you.

The marauders would endlessly bully and tease your brother. Being the dimwit he was, he always decides to try and fight back, ultimately failing every time. They would cast small hexes on you in the hallways, just constant, small annoyances. Eventually, it seemed as though Snape wasn’t enough of a challenge for the marauders, which caused them to turn fully to you. Now you were the one getting harassed. Constant jabs at the way you looked, filth about you thinking the same way as Severus, and the never ending comments about the amount of foundation you wore. What kind of guy even noticed that stuff?

To be quite frank, it sucked. You were stuck with a shitty brother whom you loved, and a group of boys who bullied you for that very reason. It was exhausting, which meant that you valued every moment you could find yourself at peace- like right now. You were sitting underneath a tree near Black Lake. It was the first of the warmer days at Hogwarts, so you blended in with the multitudes of students soaking up the sun. You hoped this blending would be enough to allow you some quality time away from the marauders.

You leaned back your head against the bark of the tree. There was a gentle wind blowing across your face, a gentle buzz of voices coming from the other students outside, and a heavy liquid falling down your face. Wait… what? You opened your eyes quickly and rubbed at your face. It felt as though sticky black tar had been dumped on your head.

Though the substance made it hard to see, you could hear the roaring laughter of James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius. “What the hell? What is your issue? You couldn’t leave it for one day?” You questioned. You had cleared the goo enough clear your eyesight, and could see the amused faces of the boys. Sirius had the biggest grin stretching across his face, “Aw, we wouldn’t do that to you. You simply look too adorable with black sludge covering your face. Honestly, it looks better than that makeup you cake on everyday.”

You could punch him for the look on his face. You had already been having a crappy day, as your parents had sent you a letter reminding you that the summer holiday was approaching, and they expected you to not forget your manners like you seem so inclined to do.

Basically, if you didn’t listen to every word they said, you were going to “get straightened out” like your mother always said. The letter was fresh in your mind, and with it, a need to punch something. Luckily for you, there were four perfect targets standing right in front of you.

You took a step towards James, the closest of them to you. He looked slightly confused, but taunted you nevertheless, “You coming in for a kiss? Sorry, I don’t French with snakes.” That was all you needed. You reared back your fist, and punched James Potter square in the gut. He doubled over in pain, and you swear you’ve never felt so much joy. Peter and Remus rushed over to him right away. Sirius looked at you in shock and took you by the shoulders. “You’re such a bitch! I knew all of the Snapes were the same. Just leave Hogwarts! We don’t need another bunch of rancid, pureblood twats spitting nonsense around here!” He was screaming in your face, and everything about what he was saying infuriated you.

“Excuse me? Have you ever thought of asking about what I believe instead of assuming I’m just like my brother? I don’t believe in any of that shit! And what’s even worse, I have to suffer the consequences of being a half decent person all the time!” Sirius looked confused at your last sentence, so you rolled your eyes and casted a simple spell to clean the liquid off of your face, along with the thick layer of foundation you had applied that morning. Underneath, a giant scar cut along your cheek. It was relatively new, so the skin around it was red and puckered.

Sirius sucked in a quick breath. The other marauders had stopped cooing over James, and looked to you with shocked expressions. “Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry-“ you cut Sirius off. “Just stop, I thought you of all people would know what I was going through, but I guess not.” You started walking away, but when you heard the footsteps of Sirius behind you, you sped up to a run.

The footsteps behind you also increased in their pace, and a large hand grasped your wrist. You turned to look at Sirius. Tears had started forming in your eyes, but you wiped them away in futile the hope that would stop Sirius from seeing them. Sirius didn’t speak right away, instead he chose to study your face. You squirmed, under his scrutiny, you just felt ugly. Your red rimmed eyes, stuffy nose, and large scar now visible. You were heavily considering bolting away again until he spoke up, “I’m sorry. I- I never even considered that you might not be like your family. And you’re right, out of anyone, I should have been the one to give you the benefit of the doubt.” You looked back up at him, his eyes seemed genuinely apologetic, but that didn’t mean you were letting him off the hook just yet.

“Yeah, you should be sorry. You and your cronies have been ruining my life here at Hogwarts. My one escape from my family. And you’ve been taking the absolute piss out of my brother. I know how he is, but he’s still my brother. Talk to me again when you show me you want to change.” With that, you pulled your wrist from his grip and walked back to your dorm. You really wanted to give him a second chance, partly because you had been harboring a small crush on him since first year. But before you could even let yourself consider that, he had to prove that he wanted to change. You sat in your dorm thinking about that very scenario, wishing, hoping, praying, that he would make the effort.

And in the next few weeks, he did. There were certainly the occasional taunts thrown towards your brother in the halls, but you supposed you could live with that. There were no more cruel pranks aimed towards you or Severus, and Sirius had even made James, Peter, and Remus write out apology notes and deliver them to you personally. You had probably gotten way too much enjoyment out of that one.

As you ate in the Great Hall, surrounded by a few acquaintances, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Behind you was a nervous looking Sirius. “Would you like to come over and eat with us? I swear, no bad intentions. We really want to get to know you.” His voice was much smaller than you had ever heard it. You weighed your options back and forth, but with the genuine effort he had been putting into righting his wrongs, there was no way you could deny him. “I would be delighted to.”

His face lit up at that, and you could see his confidence instantly repair itself. He led you over to where he and the other marauders sat, guiding you by placing his hand on the small of your back. The simple act caused your face to redden, but if he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Once you sat down at the table, everything was surprisingly normal. The other boys made one more quick apology each, but then the conversation quickly migrated to more light hearted topics.

“Okay, James,” it was hard to speak through your laughter, “You went up to this fifty year old dude, and insisted he was your mom?” The entire table burst out in laughter. “It was an intense game of truth or dare, I had ten galleons riding on it!” Remus smirked at him, “Yeah, but you still ended up losing,” he then looked to you, “You want to know why, Y/n?” You looked at him nodding, as you heard Peter groan, “Don’t do this mate.” Remus only spared him a glance as he launched back into his story, “So the truth or dare game was down to just Peter and James, and neither of them would back out. That’s when Sirius came out with this absolutely vile looking plate of chicken. It was cold, half raw, and definitely spoiled. We dared James and Peter to eat it for the win. James backed out immediately, but Peter ate it and puked for weeks.”

You had been drinking pumpkin juice as Remus told his story. But once he reached the part where Peter at the chicken, you lost it. Laughter spilled from your lips, and juice came up out of your nose. This only made the laughter at the table increase ten fold. You realized that you were receiving from worried glances from the students around you, but the laughter clouded your mind and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You finally managed to calm yourself, and Sirius handed you a napkin of while wiping away a tear. You wiped away the juice, and caught sight of the watch on your wrist as you did so.

“Shit, I was supposed to be working on a Potions paper due tomorrow! I’ve gotta be off, this was lovely though!” You hugged Peter who sat right next to you, the boy looked a bit shocked, but satisfied nonetheless. You saw the pouty look emerge in Sirius’ eyes, so you leaned across the table and pecked him on the cheek. His face immediately blossomed into a lovely pink hue as the boys shouted out variations of, “You’re in!” “When’s the wedding?” and “Can I be the best man?” You smiled as you walked away from them, hoping that you’d be invited to sit with them again tomorrow.

#james potter x reader #marauders x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #remus lupin x reader #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #wolfstar x reader #marauders x fem!reader #poly marauders x reader #harry potter

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imagine--if · 6 months

Note

hey! i hope your doing well, i would love to see anything fluffy for mike (headcanons, blurbs, whatever you feel like suits it most!) - he deserves the whole world and sm more to me 😭

A/N: I get youuuu, hope you enjoy 😁 started off with the relationship hcs but let me know if you wanna see anything more specific!!

Warnings: FNAF movie spoilers, mentions of violence

⋆✮ Dating Mike Schmidt Includes: ✮⋆

➳ Mike's been through a hell of a lot ever since his little brother got kidnapped, so I'm seeing major protectiveness and sometimes even clinginess involved from him when you end up dating because 😭 guy's been through stuff and he's not letting anyone else he's close to get hurt

➳ To be honest, at first he's pretty closed-off with people, vulnerable with a tough exterior, so if you meet him in some scenario where you're tied up with the Freddy's murders and job, he'll try to be distant and professional and all... ending up failing 🙃

➳ Eventually you start. talking more about personal things, hobbies your lives, and he'll mention his sister Abby and having to take the job because he needs the money and is in the middle of the custody situation with his sister. He's got a lot going on and the trauma of what happened all those years ago still wringing at his guilt, so being able to talk with someone who doesn't judge in a relaxed place is a nice change for him having to be on guard all the time.

➳ When Mike befriends you, which is what happens first, he's got your back. If you need someone to vent to or hang out with or whatever, he'll do whatever he can to help, and when it comes to you being in a sticky situation or someone trying to hurt you or play you, he always seems to realise and is in no way afraid of confrontation to get them to back off.

➳ Like if William tries sizing you up a bit... and Mike gets annoyed with that cool, defensive glare as he asks if he needs anything (I've got to make an imagine of this nowwww). I think Mike would only realise that he's actually jealous if you teased about it, or if he really loses his temper with someone that's not leaving you alone or something. Then it really nags at him and makes him think about actually liking you as more than a friend, and then that initial reluctance because everyone he gets close to seems to have something bad happen to them, like it's a curse. At the end of the day, he just wants you to be safe.

➳ It would take something big for Mike to confess to you, unless you take the first step (aka Abby begging you to tell him you like him too because she's getting bored of him not concentrating on what she's talking to him about or the conversation somehow curving to you and the stuff you're into). Maybe you're attacked at Freddy's and you're all in on the crisis together when Mike stands firmly in front of you when William reveals himself, or he shoves you out the way so you won't get hurt, ultimately jumping in front of the threat without a worry of him getting hit instead. It's then that he realises how much he needs you in his life, how he needs you alive because you add some joy to it that he hasn't felt in all these years, a change from the darkness that his head's stuck in.

➳ It all comes out of him in a rush as he looks you up and down with wild eyes and a firm grip, asking if you're alright and saying in a rush that "you're one of the most important people in the world to me, and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt... I- I couldn't live with myself, okay?!"

➳ Okayyy Mike, just kiss them 😏

➳ After you fight Afton together and get Vanessa looked after, you can finally breathe and properly start dating, which includes that familiar protectiveness and slight clinginess... and also being best friends with his little sister, which you 100% would be. You'd spend time drawing or chatting or playing random games while Mike was out working, eliminating the need for a babysitter because you're the perfect fit and get along with her great. And when he is home, you do a lot of stuff together, like a mini family, and there's finally that security and stability in that life she needed.

➳ I feel like Abby would find it hilarious to tell you all the sappy things Mike says about you on the rare occasions where you're not around, ending in Mike's cheeks flushing beet red and him picking her up and whirling her around playfully until she's in fits of laughter. "I heard Mike say that he found another reason to keep going when he realised he was in love wi- hey!!"

➳ Mike would be a bit clingy, again because of what happened with Garret; Mike being distracted for one moment and then blaming himself for the rest of his life because it was that moment where his brother was taken and killed. So if you are out, on a date or just around, this guy will not leave your side. He's the kind of person to text you again and again if you don't respond to the first message, and it's kind of cute how much he worries, but then he doesn't need to, and every now and then he'll need your reassurance that you guys are safe and that you won't leave him, which stills ends with him burying his face in your neck for a long tight hug for a while.

➳ MIKE'S A BIG HUGGER. CHANGE MY MIND.

➳ Whether you're watching a movie with him and Abby, or you're out on a date or sleeping or whatever, Mike will always have some contact with you if you've told him you're okay with it: fingers linked under the table, pressed into his side while you're watching TV (with an affectionate forehead kiss every five minutes 🥺) or being half crushed to death while you're trying to sleep when he rolls onto you and traps you under his leg... good luck if you need to go to the bathroom. Chances are he'll end up trailing after you with mumbled protests.

➳ That protectiveness always kicks in when someone looks at you for too long, or in a way that he doesn't like the look of, or if you're obviously uncomfortable with. If you're quick, you can just convince him to walk away and you two go somewhere else, because Mike will end up getting annoyed and giving the guy a line to get him to make them go away. If he's not careful, he might end up getting in a fight again, but he'll really try not to when you tell him off for it and promise him that things are okay and you're not going anywhere.

➳ You and Abby are basically Mike's world, after all that's happened, there are only really two people left that he truly cares for and would do anything for. Once you're in a relationship with him, he'll do everything he can to make sure you're safe and won't have to go through anything he had to. If ever you're upset, he'll listen for hours with no judgement and major support, whatever mood you're in somehow rubbing off on him. Mike will admit his feelings in a rush, and when he does, he's not afraid to tell you that he loves you whenever you need to hear it, or whenever he wants to say it and wants you to be reminded. It's something that you can never doubt.

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year

Text

Somewhere In The Haze

Pairing: Peeta Mellark X Reader

Synopsis: Peeta returns from The Capital but he isn’t the same

As soon as you heard the news that the rescue team had returned from The Capital, you ran to the infirmary. You passed Johanna on your way to find Peeta and stopped in your tracks. She barely got two words out of her snarky speech when you pulled her to your chest and kissed the top of her shaved head. You ran before she had time to react and passed Finnick and Annie’s romantic reunion and grew giddy over the thought of you and Peeta reuniting in the same way. Your eyes scanned the room and eventually fell on Gale, who you ran to hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” You told him before pulling away. Gale watched the way your eyes darted around the room and he let out a sigh.

“He’s in there.” Gale said without meeting your eyes as he nodded towards a room to the left. You broke into a smile and felt your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” You said sincerely before running towards the room. You pushed on the door handle but were suddenly pulled back by Haymitch.

“Hold on, sweetheart. I know you’ve been waiting a long time to see lover boy again but you should prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.” Haymitch warned you. You felt a flash of anger towards Haymitch for trying to stop you from going in there and shook your head.

“I’m fine. I don’t care how he looks. Let me in there.” You said and tried to push the door open.

“You’re not fine. And neither is Peeta.” Haymitch tried to prepare you. The gravity in his voice made you stop trying to push past him.

“Why? What’s going on? Is he okay?”

“There’s something you should know.” Haymitch said after a beat of silence. You couldn’t take the anticipation anymore and pushed the door open. You ran inside and pushed open the second set of glass doors with a giddy smile on your face.

“Peeta? Peeta, I’m here.” You shouted as you burst into the room. You watched Peeta’s head perk up at the sound of your voice and he ever so slowly turned his neck to see you. When you saw the state of his bruised and battered face, looking much worse than you had seen from his Capital interviews, your smile dropped and you felt your heart shatter.

“Peeta.” You breathed out. Your heart ached for him so you slowly reached your hand out to touch his face. Peeta backed away from your hand as if in fear and your face twisted in confusion.

“Peeta, it’s me.” You assured him and reached out again. This time, he aggressively swatted your hand away befriend lunging at your neck with both hands. He slammed you into a glass cabinet behind you before throwing you onto the ground by your neck. You barely had time to gasp for air when he got back on top of you and started to strangle you. You tapped the side of his arms to try to get him to let go of you as you struggled to breath.

“Peeta, stop. It’s me.” You wheezed out.

“I know.” He growled and tightened his grip. You watched the corners of your vision darken as the last of your breath left your lungs. The last thing you saw before passing out was the feral look in Peeta’s eyes as he choked you.

When you woke up, your body felt sore and heavy. You had hoped the interaction with Peeta was just another one of your nightmares, but the brace around your neck told you it was all too real.

“I’m sorry. I tried to warn you. That’s not him.” Haymitch said from your bedside, making you jump. You opened your mouth to speak but only a croak came out. You gulped and braced yourself before trying again.

“You’re right. It’s not.” You croaked out.

“I’ll let you get some rest. We can talk about it when you’re feeling better.” Haymitch said with a pat of your hand. You quickly grabbed his hand and pulled his back.

“I want to talk to him.” You croaked.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’ve waited to see him every day for the past 8 weeks. I need to see him.” You said with painful gasps of air between each word.

“Y/n, that wasn’t just some disorientation from his sedation wearing off. Peeta went through intensive torture while he was in The Capital.” Haymitch told you.

“What kind of torture?”

“It’s a method called Hijacking. They inject him with trackerjack venom and show him altered pictures of his life. It’s a form of fear conditioning. They have programmed his mind to see you as life threatening.”

“Can you reverse it?” You asked.

“We’re trying. But we have little to no experience with this sort of thing.” Haymitch sighed.

“Let me talk to him. He just needs to see my face.” You said and tried to sit up.

“You really want to go back in there after what he did to you?” Haymitch asked as he pushed you back down onto your bed.

“If it’ll help him get his memory back, then yes. He’d do it for me.” You said decidedly.

“You’ve never been one to accept “no” for an answer, have you?” Haymitch sighed, knowing he would never get through to you.

“Nope.”

“Fine. But we’re cuffing him.” He reluctantly agreed.

You were escorted back to Peeta’s room with an entirely new feeling in your chest. Last time you were coming to see him, you were giddy and hopeful. Things had been so good between the two of you on the last night in the arena. As you walked to his room now, you felt pure terror. It was like Peeta was possessed by a malevolent spirit that stripped him of every identifying feature you had grown to love. You pushed that feat to the side and entered his room.

“Peeta?” You asked as you pushed through the door. You could see the way Peeta immediately tensed up at the sight of you, so you stayed by the door as not to scare him.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked in a low voice.

“I came to see you. I’ve missed you.” You said as you immediately forgot to keep your distance and took a step towards him. You instinctively reached out to touch his bruised face, but withdrew it when he gave you a disgusted look. Instead, you folded your hands together and gave him a weak smile.

“You look terrible.” He stated, making your smile drop.

“You’ve definitely looked better.” You replied, making him roll his eyes.

“You’re not even remotely nice enough to say that to me right now.”

“Well I was never the nice one. You were.” You told him. Peeta’s expression changed when he heard this but his guard was still up. He looked away from you to look at the restraints on his wrists.

“I was beaten everyday for weeks.” He said without looking up.

“Peeta.” You whispered and took another step towards him. You reached a hand out again and his head snapped up to glare at you.

“I was shocked, whipped, starved, and isolated. Every single day. All because of you. So I’m sorry if I’m not nice anymore.” He said as his voice shook with rage.

Your mouth opened to say something but you found yourself speechless. You’d seen Peeta so many things, but you’d never seen him show hatred. You didn’t know the boy with the bread was capable of that feeling. You wiped a tear that had fallen before composing yourself.

“I never wanted to leave you behind. You need to know that. I had no idea there was a bigger plan at play. I wanted to go back for you. I swear I did. That was the only thing I wanted. But nothing was up to me.” You finally gave him the explanation you’d been practicing in your head for the moment you got to see him again.

“Me either.” Peeta said with a dry laugh. You nodded your head to show you understand his situation was much worse than yours.

“Because if it were, I would’ve let you get tortured by Snow. Not me.” Peeta continued as he raised his voice at you. You winced at the shouting and took a step back.

“I offered to take your place. Snow didn’t accept.” You explained. “I’m so sorry, Peeta. I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. I’m sorry I had to leave you behind.”

“I’m sorry too.” Peeta said sincerely, peaking your interest.

“I’m sorry I threw you bread that day in the rain. I would’ve saved myself a lot of suffering if I just gave that bread to the pigs.” He shouted at you again and ruined one of your fondest memories of him, the very memory that got you through so much of the first games.

“It was the first my family had eaten in days.” You said with a sad smile, hoping Peeta would hear the kindness he had shown you and remember who he really was.

“I burnt it on purpose so I could give it to you. You know my mother beat me for burning it? Why would I take a beating like that for you?” Peeta asked genuinely. You could tell the Peeta you knew was long gone and the Peeta in front of you had no memory of ever loving you.

“Because you are kind. And generous. And people say you love me.” You answered him while hot tears spilled over your face.

“Do people say you love me?”

“I do. I do love you.” You insisted as you stepped forward again. Peter withdrew his entire body from you as much as he could with his restraints. You saw the way he recoiled and stood still.

“People say that’s why Snow tortured you. To hurt me.” You said once you composed yourself.

“Snow said everything out of your mouth is a lie.” Peeta snapped.

“I could say the same for him.” You said back, starting to grow angry. Not necessarily with Peeta, but at whoever came up with the sick joke of Peeta coming back to you but with an entirely new personality that hated you.

“They told me they would only let you in if they restrained me.” Peeta told you as he looked back down at his restraints.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want them to. But they wouldn’t let me come see you without it.”

“You know what I can’t wait to do once these restraints are off?” Peeta asked with a slight smile on his face. You grew hopeful that the Peeta you knew was coming back and stood up straighter.

“What?” You asked with the same soft smile.

“Kill you for the mutt that you are.” He said with an eerie grin. You gasped a little and took a step back from him.

“You don’t mean that. This isn’t you.” You shook your head as more tears fell down your face.

“This is me. If you don’t think I’m good enough anymore to be your little romance puppet, then get the HELL OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK.” Peeta’s voice went from a whisper to a scream as he raged at you. You blinked in surprise at his screaming before grabbing the door handle.

“I won’t.” You tearfully told him, then ran out of the room.

The next day, you were sent out to The Capital with your troop for the planned invasion. You were glad to have something to take your mind off of the Peeta situation, even if that something was active combat. Your distraction didn’t last long as you watched a large black truck pull up to where your troop was.

Several guards got off the truck, followed by Peeta. He was handcuffed and looking at the ground as he mumbled something to himself over and over. When he got closer, you realized he was reminding himself of who he was.

“My name is Peeta Mellark. My home is District 12.” He mumbled over and over to himself. It reminded you of when you did the same thing after you escaped the Quarter Quell and you felt a pinch of sympathy for him.

“Whats he doing here?” You asked Boggs.

“Coin wants him in the propos to show the districts that he’s free and on our side.” He explained.

“Do you honestly think he’s in any position to be thrown into active combat? He needs to be resting so he can recover.” You raised your voice, feeling misplaced anger over Peeta being thrown right back into a traumatic situation after what he had just gone through.

“I didn’t make the orders. If you have an issue, take it up with Coin.” Boggs shrugged. You gave him a nod and an apologetic smile to show him you understood he wasn’t the right person to get angry at. You hadn’t even noticed that Peeta had come closer while you’d been talking to Boggs.

“Hello.” Peeta said in a quiet voice. You turned around to see who he was talking to and when you saw no one, you looked at him in surprise.

“Me? Oh. Hi.” You replied stiffly and took a step back from him. Peeta noticed this and looked upset over it.

“How’s your throat?” He asked, taking you by surprise once again.

“Still a little swollen. But I’ll survive.” You replied curtly. Peeta looked at you for a minute and you could’ve sworn he had guilt behind his eyes. He looked down at the cuffs on his wrists and shut his eyes as if trying to block out a memory that dared to approach.

“When you first came to see me, I had just gotten back from the Capital.” He began in a weak voice. “The very last thing I had seen before I was rescued was images of you while a whole room of people told me you were life threatening. I thought my life was in danger when I saw you.”

“Do you still think that?” You asked him.

“No.” He said. Then followed up with, “Not all the time.”

“But sometimes?” You frowned in disappointment.

“Sometimes. They really got me, Y/n. The Capital really messed with my brain.” Peeta told you and you could hear the pain in his voice. You instinctively went to give him a hug, something you always used to do to comfort each other, then stepped back when you remembered that he probably wouldn’t want that from you anymore. Peeta realized what you had almost done and looked slightly disappointed that it hadn’t happened.

“I know.” You said after a beat of silence. You looked him in the eyes and nodded to show him you understood who he was being wasn’t really him. Peeta looked almost grateful and nodded his head as well. You gave him a short smile before walking away, feeling overwhelmed from how much you wanted the person he used to be.

It was too hard to be around Peeta now that he was different and no longer loved you, so you kept your distance from him. That didn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder every so often to check on him while your troop ventured into the Capital. You looked over at Peeta at one point while Boggs was checking the area for pods and saw that he was crouched on the ground and banging his head against his gun to make it hit the wall. His eyes were tightly shut and he was rocking back and forth as his face twisted in pain. You knew he must be having some sort of episode and you instinctively started walking towards him. You stopped when you remembered that he would probably just hurt you again so you stood there and watched him rock back and forth. After just a few more seconds, you couldn’t take it anymore and ran to kneel down beside him.

“Peeta?” You asked and pushed his gun down so he could stop hitting his head against. Peeta just kept hitting his head against the wall, so you pulled his head towards you and held his face.

“Peeta? What’s going on?” You asked him.

“I’m a mutt, I’m a mutt, I’m a mutt.” He whispered shakily under his breath.

“Shhh. No you’re not.” You said softly and tried to pull him into a hug. Peeta roughly pushed you off of him, making you fall back.

“Stay away from me.” He shouted at you. You stared at him in stunned silence and his face slowly melted from anger to sadness.

“Please. I’ll just hurt you again.” He said quietly. You nodded your head and got up to go back to where you were originally standing. You looked over at Peeta and saw that he was just sitting now with his head in his hands. You had no time to react to it before a tidal wave of hot oil came rushing towards you and your troop. You all collectively ran from it and went to seek shelter in a nearby building. As you were climbing the steps, you felt yourself being pulled backward and thrown onto the ground. You barely had time to react before Peeta stood over you and raised his gun as if to bash your head in. He was quickly pulled off of you by another troop member, but Peeta just overpowered him and threw him into the oil. You knew you had to keep running, so you got up and ran into the building. Finnick restrained Peeta once everyone was inside and you moved to the building across the street once the oil went down. You all watched from the window as Peacekeepers blew up the building you had been inside just moments ago. A mandatory viewing from The Capital popped up on the TV and everyone turned their attention to that. Cesar Flickerman announced that you, as well as you whole troop, had just been killing the the collapsed building as the footage rolled behind him.

You sat down and watched the footage from just a few moments ago of your troop running from the oil flood. And from a new perspective now, you watched Peter grab you by the waist and throw you to the ground. Even though you had just lived through it, you still gasped when you saw him attempt to bash your skull in with the butt of his gun. You gulped and looked over at Peeta, who was watching the screen with tears running down the haunted expression on his face.

“So now that they think we’re dead, what do we do?” Gale asked the room.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Peeta spoke, catching everyone by surprise.

“The next move is to kill me. I’m not in control. I just murdered a member of our squad.” Peeta said in a shaky voice.

“That wasn’t you.” You reminded him.

“It was me. I’m a danger to all of you while I’m alive. You should just kill me now and go on with the mission.�� Peeta said in defeat. He was himself enough to know the extent of what he had done and somehow, that was more painful than when he was fully gone.

“If it gets to that point where we have to make that decision, I’ll pull the trigger myself.” Gale offered. Everyone seemed to nod in agreement, sparking your anger once again.

“No.” You said loudly, making everyone look at you.

“No one’s killing Peeta. We didn’t go through all that trouble to get him out of The Capital just to kill him.” You tried to sound strong but your voice shook at the mere thought of never seeing him again.

“But-“ Peeta began.

“No.” You cut him off. “You’ve survived too much to be killed by one of us. Since the beginning, it’s been about keeping you alive. That hasn’t changed for me. So no one’s killing you. I’m not losing you. Not again. Not for real.”

Silence filled the room, along with a palpable tension. You quickly dismissed yourself and went into the kitchen to stock up on food. When your troop started moving again an hour later, you moved in silence. Nobody spoke a word about your little outburst. Instead, you all went into the sewer system to avoid being seen by the Capital cameras. You walked for a few hours before settling down for the night.

“You’re the first watch.” Boggs told you moments after you sat down. You nodded and got up to go sit at the end of the tunnel, coincidentally next to where Peeta was sitting. You gave him a quick smile that he did not return. Throughout the night, your gaze wandered over to Peeta every so often, but he never noticed. He was too busy being lost in thought.

“Your favorite color is green, real or not real?” Peeta asked suddenly, speaking so softly you almost didn’t hear him. You perked up when you heard the correct detail about yourself and nodded your head.

“That’s real. You remember that?” You asked in disbelief.

“My memory is getting better. Some things are still fuzzy but I’m starting to be able to differentiate between what’s real and what The Capital made up.” Peeta admitted. You nodded in understanding and scooted closer to him.

“Do you remember anything else?”

“You used to wear your hair in two braids instead of one.” He recalled, making your lips curve into a small smile.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Why did you change it?”

“So my hair doesn’t get caught on my arrow when I pull it out of the sheath. See?” You explained as you pulled an arrow out of the sheath on your back. He watched curiously and then smiled a little.

“That’s smart.” He told you, making you smile as well.

“My dad taught me that. He said that’s how the women in his family wore it when they hunted.”

“Where is he now?” Peeta wondered, making your smile fall.

“He died a long time ago. In a coalmine back in 12.” You told him. Peeta’s face softened and he looked down at his lap.

“My parents are dead too.”

“Prim told me. I’m sorry.” You said and went to put your hand on top of his. You quickly withdrew it and Peeta’s expression somehow grew even sadder. You wondered how long it had been since the last time he’d been touched with something other than abuse. It must’ve been 8 weeks ago back in the Quarter Quell when you kissed him goodbye. Since then, he only knew pain.

“I don’t have anyone left. I don’t know what the point of keeping me alive is if I can’t keep control of myself. It’s not like there’s anyone waiting for me to come home.” Peeta said, drawing you out of his thoughts. You looked at him like he was crazy and sat up to look at him.

“I’m waiting.” You stated. “I’m waiting for you to come home.”

Peeta stared into your eyes for a while and even in the dark, you saw glimpses of the boy you nursed back to health in the first games. The cheeky, witty, and ever loving boy you’d grown to know was staring back at you for the first time in weeks. You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but you knew he would hate it.

“Your favorite color is Orange.” You blurted instead.

“It is?”

“Yes. Soft orange. Like the sunset.” You told him. Peeta smiled softly and looked at you with gratitude.

“Can you tell me anything else?” He asked in a soft voice.

“You’re a painter. And a baker. You always sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. You always double knot your shoelaces.”

“Thank you.” He smiled as he looked into your eyes.

“You’re welcome.” You replied, getting choked up over speaking of the Peeta you once knew.

“I guess you know me pretty well, huh?”

“You learn a lot about a person when you’ve been through what we’ve been through together.”

“Haymitch told me they used Trackerjack venom on me in The Capital. You were bitten too once, real or not real?” Peeta asked you.

“Real. In the first games. After I dropped a nest on you and the careers.”

“I remember making sure you ran away before they did to you what they did to Glimmer. I had to fight Cato to keep him from going after you. I remember wanting to run and follow you, but I didn’t. My leg was too wounded.” Peeta recalled as he stared off into the distance as if he could see it.

“I remember when I found you by the lake. You had camouflaged yourself to look like the ground. You scared me half to death when you grabbed my ankle.” You thought about for the first time in a while.

“I remember that too.” Peeta looked at you and smiled a little.

“I thought I was about to be killed. But when I realized it was you, I had never felt such relief.” You continued as you stared into his eyes.

“That seems like so like ago.” He said wistfully.

“I know. Can you believe those were the simpler times?”

“Nothing is simple anymore. I’m scared it never will be again.” Peeta admitted and looked down at his cuffed hands.

“Me too.” You whispered without ever taking your eyes off him. He blinked slowly and you realized he must be exhausted.

“You should get some sleep.” You told him.

“I’m okay. I don’t need it.”

“We all need it. Just close your eyes. It’s my turn to keep watch anyway.”

“Okay. Just for a little while.” He reluctantly agreed. You watched Peeta shut his eyes and within minutes, he was out. You watched him sleep for a while because for the first time since he had been rescued, he looked peaceful. You felt a little creepy for staring so you eventually looked away and stared down the tunnel beside you.

You suddenly felt something on your shoulder coupled with the tickling sensation of Peeta’s hair on your skin. You looked down to see his head had fallen onto your shoulder in his sleep and he laid peacefully with his head buried in your neck. You gasped a little at the feeling of his skin on yours once again. There were so many times where you thought you’d never touch him again, so to feel his warmth once more brought a range of emotions. Your eyes filled with tears and you sucked in a sharp breath before resting your cheek on top of his head. Tears slipped down your face so you turned your head inwards to kiss the top of his head. You knew you’d never get the chance to do this when he was awake, so you savored every minute of it in case it was the last time. You listened to the sound of Peeta’s shallow breathing before picking up his hand and slipping your fingers between his. You felt a little selfish, but you needed the memory of holding his hand to replace the memory of his hands around your neck.

The peace and quiet didn’t last long and you were up and moving again at the sound of footsteps in the tunnel. You quickly dropped Peeta’s hand and woke up your team before taking off running through the sewers. You ended up having to fight off some mutts that definitely didn’t kill Finnick because who would possibly write something like that not me.

When you got to the surface again, you all ran for your lives as Peacemakers shot at you from all directions. To make matters worse, the ground was being torn up beneath you as you ran. You looked over your shoulder for just a second to see Peeta fall to his knees.

“No, no, no.” Peeta cried and started to hit himself in the head. He curled into a ball as he shouted something unintelligible about being a mutt.

“Peeta, come on. We have to keep going.” You urged as you tried to pull him up.

“I’m a mutt. Leave me behind. I’m a mutt!” He cried and continued to bang his head into the floor.

“Peeta, come on. Get up.” You commanded and tried with all your strength to pull him off the ground.

“I’m a mutt. I’m a mutt.” He whimpered as you got down on your knees beside him.

“Peeta.” You shouted, making him look up at you. Now that he was caught off guard, you pulled him into a kiss. You probably needed it more than he did, but it worked exactly how you’d hoped. When you pulled away, he was entirely himself again and looked at you with that familiar fondness in his eyes.

“Stay with me.” You breathed out. Peeta gulped and then nodded his head.

“Always.” He replied. You took a minute to feel joy over this before pulling him off the ground and running with his hand in yours.

Cressida lead everyone to a shop in town owned by Tigress, a stylist you recognized from the first games. She agreed to hide everyone in her underground cellar while the chaos outside calmed down. When everyone sat down to catch their breath, you stayed standing.

You looked around and noticed Peeta sitting by himself next to a pole. You went over and sat beside him before wordlessly taking the cuffs off of him.

“You should keep these clean or else they’ll get infected.” You told him as you dabbed them clean with a wipe.

“You should cuff me again. It’s still not safe with me.” Peeta said, sounding miserable. You didn’t want to cuff him again, but you knew in your heart that he was probably right. You picked his hand cuffs up and he held out his wrists. His face looked so miserable that you dropped them back into your lap.

“I’ll cuff you tomorrow.” You decided. “You shouldn’t have to sleep with them on.”

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

“Yes. I trust you.” You replied, making his eyes soften a little.

“Even after everything I’ve done?” He asked quietly.

“I know who you are. And who you’re not. When I see you do the bad things, it’s like I’m watching someone else. The Peeta I know…” You trailed off when you felt yourself getting emotional at the thought of the old Peeta. You had to look away from him or you knew you’d cry.

“The Peeta I love isn’t a bad guy. He’s safe and warm and kind. And I owe him my life. So yes, I trust you.” You answered as you stared at your filthy nails. You desperately wanted to see Peeta’s reaction to that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up.

“I’m trying really hard to trust you too.” Peeta said after a beat of silence.

“It’s okay. I can’t imagine the war in your head right now. Take your time. Just keep your hands off my throat if you can.” You finally looked up at him with a teasing smile.

“I’ll try.” He returned the smile and you saw a glimpse of the boy you used to know. Peeta looked down at his freed wrists and rubbed them a little.

“Do you not want to cuff me because you want to hold my hand in my sleep again?” He asked without looking at you. Your stomach dropped when you realized you were caught.

“You know about that? I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. But I woke up when I felt you.”

“And you let me hold it?” You asked in disbelief.

“It’s been a long time since someone touched me like that. I wasn’t gonna stop you.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

“I know why.” Peeta said, making you look at him.

“If I die, you didn’t want the last memory of my hands to be painful.” He continued, somehow knowing your exact thought process.

“That’s exactly why.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know why.” Peeta cracked a smile.

“I was lying.” You admitted

“Snow was right about you. Everything out of your mouth is a lie.” Peeta said with a straight face. Your face fell and he immediately looked concerned.

“I’m kidding. That was a joke.” He assured you.

“Oh. Sorry.” You slowly cracked a smile when you realize Peeta had just made a joke. It reminded you of the time back in the first games when he jokingly said he’d take the bow.

“It’s okay.” He replied and an awkward silence fell between you. You wanted so desperately to keep taking to Peeta, especially now that he seemed more like himself, but you had nothing to say. He was already so fragile so you didn’t want to do or say anything that could set him off. As you raked your brain for happy things to talk about, Peeta broke the silence.

“You know, Haymitch told me you only agreed to be the Mockingjay if Coin agreed to make rescuing me and the others a top priority.” He said without looking at you.

“Yeah. I did.” You confessed. “I never wanted to be the face of this rebellion. I just wanted you home.”

“He also said he woke up to the sound of you screaming for me every night.” Peeta said as he looked into your eyes. You stared at him for a while as you remembered all the times you dreamt about him coming home only to wake up alone in your bed. You felt a tear roll down your face and quickly looked away so you could wipe it. Peeta kept his eyes on you as you did this and you could feel it.

“When you kissed me back there, it was the most lucid I’ve felt since I was captured. Everything was crystal clear to me for a second. Nothing The Capital had conditioned me to believe seemed real. Just for that second though. Now everything is fuzzy again.”

“I wish I would’ve kissed you longer.” You half joked as another tear rolled down your face. Peeta stared at you for a minute with a fondness in his eyes before leaning in. You kept perfectly still as Peeta connected his lips to yours. Even before he was high jacked, Peeta normally wasn’t the one to initiate kisses. He always left it up to you because he knew you had boundaries and he never wanted to push you past them. So to have him kiss you now, especially after what he had been through, made emotion swell up in your chest. You relaxed again this lips and kissed him back, feeling the same hunger for him you felt on the beach. When he pulled away all too soon, he stared into your eyes as if he was trying to figure something out.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see if things would be clear again.” He said in a sheepish voice.

“Were they?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes. Things became very clear.” Peeta said matter of factly. You allowed yourself to feel hope for the first time in who knows how long and eagerly waited for him to speak again.

“It’s gonna take a long for me to fully come back. If I even do make a full recovery, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.” He said with a sadness in his tone but hope in his eyes.

“I’m prepared to love every version of you.” You said simply. Peeta blinked a few times then smiled a little.

“I thought your love was just an act? To win the games?” He asked genuinely.

“It started as that.” You admitted. “I definitely played it up in the first arena to survive. But there were moments, even in the first games, when it was completely and truly real for me. It wasn’t always an act. And I wish, more than anything, that I could go back in time and make sure you knew that. Before all of…this happened to you. I wish I told you what you meant to me. I wish you could’ve known how much I loved you.”

“Well we can’t go back in time. Not even The Capital has figured out how to do that.”

“I know.” You sighed in disappointment and looked away from him. Peeta watched your face carefully before putting his hand on top of yours.

“But I know now. And it made me happy to hear you say that. It made me feel liek myself for a minute. Is that enough for you?” He asked. The inflection in your voice was so true to the old Peeta that you could’ve be sworn he was cured. You looked into his eyes and then reached out and allowed yourself to touch his face after all the times you stopped yourself.

“Yes, Peeta.” You told him. “That’s enough.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #Peeta mellark fanfiction #Peeta mellark x fanfic #Peeta mellark fluff #Peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark

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genderkoolaid · 7 months

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Tell us about the gay trans man 50s housewife story please....

GLADLY

it's not very fleshed out but the general idea is a woman has recently been married and is trying to fill the role of Good Wife, but privately is struggling with dysphoria that she hoped would be "fixed" by getting married and putting all her effort into getting a good grade in womanhood. she tries to befriend other wives in the neighborhood but it never really clicks. one of her neighbors is a single man living alone who becomes the first person she is able to connect with. she eventually admits her desire to be a man, not just in the "it would be nice to have rights" sense but that she desperately wants to look like a man– and then she tries to laugh it off with "haha but i'm not attracted to women so I guess I'm just weird!"

the neighbor is actually a gay man who starts to introduce her to queer culture under her husband's nose, which is both extremely alluring but also disturbing to her because she's tried so hard to be a Good Straight Woman, so she goes back and forth between "giving in" and lashing out. she tries to break off their friendship, partially because people are starting to get suspicious of them but also in an attempt to force all that self realization back into a tidy box. but her already shaky relationship with her husband starts crumbling and eventually she breaks down to the neighbor because no man will love her in the way she wants. the neighbor insists that he is attracted to him, and tells him that he's no different than the thousands of other gay men pretending to be someone they're not. the neighbor gives him a haircut and new clothes and they run off together in the middle of the night to start a new life together.

related idea to this is a story in which a bride runs away from her wedding because she can't make herself marry her husband, finds a gay bar, meets a butch who helps her realize her own butchness, both of them are actually achillean trans men but don't have the language to understand it and so they have t4t dykefag sex about it

#m.#ask box

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moonstruckme · 2 months

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Would you be willing to do fem whimsical!reader x lily where reader thinks something is haunted and maybe tries to befriend the ghost? Idk id really be happy with anything i just love lily. thank you if you do write it!! If not that’s okay I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Thanks lovely, hope you have a wonderful day as well <3

Lily Evans x whimsical!reader ♡ 916 words

You recognize the sound of Lily’s footfalls thumping dully on the dusty floors, so you don’t jump when a figure sits down beside you.

“Did you buy whiskey?” she asks. “You don’t even like whiskey.”

“It’s not for me.”

Your girlfriend hums, shuffling closer so her thigh is pressed against your knee where you have your legs crossed underneath you on the floor. In front of you is your candle, the flame flickering steadily, and your offering of the bottle of whiskey. Otherwise, the room is empty. “If you keep coming in here, eventually Michael’s going to figure it out and he’ll get a real lock put on the door.”

Michael is your landlord, of whom Lily is constantly wary because his first course of action is always threatening to kick tenants out (though as far as you know, he’s never actually done it).

“True,” you reply, “but don’t you think he’d appreciate it if I got the presence up here to quiet down? No one’s going to move in if it keeps making so much ruckus.”

Shortly after the last tenants had moved out, you’d started hearing noises in the unit above yours. Sometimes it’s a light clicking, sometimes a louder thump like something’s fallen, but every time you’ve come up here to check there’s been no evidence of things having moved around. The natural conclusion is that there’s been some disturbance in the spirit world that’s resulted in a new presence squatting here, and you like to make friends with your neighbors.

You know Lily’s a bit dubious of your theory, but your beliefs often differ from hers. She’s never made you feel like yours are any less valid.

“Are you sure that making friends with the ghost won’t make it more inclined to make more noise?” she asks.

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, “but I’d like to think that if they like me well enough, they’ll listen if I ask them to keep it down. At least at night, you know?”

Lily smiles, and the room warms in response. “Worth a try,” she agrees. “How long do you think you’re going to be tied up for? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Not much longer. As soon as the candle burns out I just have to look at the shapes in the wax, and then I can go.”

“We’re going to have to clean up the wax stains before Michael discovers them too.” She leans over to kiss the side of your head, the soft curtain of her hair falling across your cheek, before sitting back on her heels and straightening up. “Alright, love, come down when you’re done.”

You hum in response, listening to the comforting cadence of her footsteps as they leave. But then there’s another sound with them. A quiet clicking.

You inhale softly as the flame of your candle flares slightly. “It’s here,” you breathe. “It’s listening.” Lily pauses in the doorway, and you clear your throat, trying to affect your voice to be calm and welcoming. “Hello? Can you communicate with us?”

The clicking continues. You think—hope, maybe—that it might be growing louder, but it’s difficult to say.

“Hello?” you try again. “We’re friendly, please don’t be afraid.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure…” Lily takes a few steps toward you, a bemused furrow between her brows. “It sounds like it’s coming from in there.”

She starts down the hall, and you follow hastily. She stops in front of a closed bedroom door, reaching behind her to grasp your arm cautiously. The clicking does sound louder here. Lily edges the door open quietly, peering inside.

“Oh.” The syllable stretches as if drawn out from between her lips, sweet as spun sugar. “Hello, darling.”

She lets the door fall the rest of the way open, dropping into a crouch. Over her, you can see the empty, dusty room, rich light from the setting sun streaming through the windows, and a small white kitten frozen warily in the middle of the floor.

Lily reaches out a hand, making quiet little tsking noises with her tongue, but you step right over her and gather the kitten in your arms.

“Hi there,” you say. “Is it you making ruckus every night?”

Lily laughs, rising from her crouch to come stand by your shoulder. “It’s so unfair how they always come to you,” she complains fondly. “I try so hard.”

You hum noncommittally. It’s true, animals love you. You scratch the side of the kitten’s face, smiling when it purrs.

Your girlfriend smiles too. “So you’re our ghost, hm?” she coos, stroking a knuckle down its belly. “Sorry you didn’t get your chance to make friends with someone from the afterlife, sweetheart.”

“That’s alright,” you say. “This may be more rewarding anyway. You can’t pet ghosts.”

Lily laughs, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “No, I don’t suppose you can. Do you want to keep her?”

You look at her in surprise. “Could we? Michael wouldn’t be happy.”

She shrugs a shoulder, green eyes flashing with challenge. “There are some things worth incurring Michael’s wrath, I think.”

You beam, looking down at the nearly sleeping kitten cradled in your arm. “Yeah.”

“Come on.” Lily gives you a nudge, starting back out into the hall. “Our dinner’s going to burn, and I think we have tuna in the pantry to hold this one over until we can get to the store.”

“Can we name her Ghost?” you ask, following her out.

“Oh, I don’t think we have a choice.”

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thesharktanksdriver · 8 months

Text

Red Burning Stars (Platonic)

Y’all asked for Shanks you have received. Since everyone was asking for him I decided to make his part of Determination it’s own thing. I’m thinking of doing something like this for other characters as well

Also Uta is canon in this cause I really like her and I said so

Hope y’all pick up a bit on my foreshadowing of shit. It’ll eventually be explained (not now tho cause I’m evil muhahahahhahaha)

Part 1 Part 2

Tagged: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea

From the moment that you had stepped aboard the Oro Jackson shanks had knew he wanted to be friends with you

It was an instantaneous affect

One that deepened and got worse the moment he locked eyes with you across the large ship

Your calm and kind eyes connecting with his own

He felt as if in that moment time had froze, it was just him and you on that ship alone

A tugging feeling in his very soul calling out to him

Telling him to approach

To say something to this stranger that had somehow caught his attention in a way no other had ever done

It’s an odd feeling to look back on in retrospect since he’d never felt it again or with anyone else

Especially considering he’d heard some typically describe what he felt as something akin to a romantic connection with someone

Hell, when he had explained the phenomenon to Reyleigh the first mate had assumed it was a crush until Shanks repeatedly told him it wasn’t like that

But no, he knew from the start it wasn’t a silly crush or love outside of that of platonic

It was more like…a calling from something greater than him saying that the two of you were meant to be allies

Telling him that the two of you were meant to meet

Meant to befriend one another

Like fire and gunpowder

Or a sailor and the sea

Two forces that are meant to be combined together

Naturally creating something new in the process

He doesn’t understand it now and sure as hell didn’t as a kid

But back then he didn’t question it much

Not when he was Solely focussed on that feeling

That call from the universe guiding him towards you through the crowds of men

Past Buggy who’s yelling at him for leaving all of a sudden from whatever they were doing before you were invited aboard

He felt like he was being pulled on a lead

Mindlessly following without a single thought in his head other than he had to meet you

Had to do something at least

And when he stumbles his way into Rogers office as you sat down on a cushioned chair

Turning around to meet his brown eyes once again

Shanks feels a wide smile stretch across his face as if it were rubber

“I’m Shanks! Wanna be friends!?” It stumbles out his mouth excitedly as does his jagged breaths. He whips out his hand, outstretched towards you as you stare at it for a moment in surprise. A bit of worry coats his face, shit he probably came off to strong-

Suddenly he feels your hand in his, gently shaking it. “Sure, I’m y/n by the way”. He nods, his smile getting wider. “Do you usually forget to ask for people’s names when you try to befriend them?”

“Nope, only you so far”

“I must be special then”

The entire time as that happened Roger watched on with a large grin

Practically kicking his feet beneath his desk out of enthusiasm

Despite being a grown man his captain was able to match his and Buggy’s childlike spirit

It’s perhaps because of that he was able to understand the connection the most

Not chocking it up to a crush or puppy love

It was something more akin to Nakama

Something the pirate king had felt when meeting some of his crew

He just knew they had to be friends

To be apart of his crew

Admittedly it take awhile for Buggy to warm up to you compared to Shanks’s instantaneous pace

But eventually the three of you fall into a comforting balance of personality

Whilst he and Buggy are rambunctious and rather impulsive your the opponent

Your a calm force, you think before you do and help them find a solution with more opportunities

If your combined force together is a hurricane then your the eye of it

The calm within the storm

It’s what the rest of the crew begin to affectionately call your trio

Even Roger begins to use it when referring to you all

Much to Buggy’s displeasure

He doesn’t mind though, unlike his friend shanks finds amusement in the nickname

One that he thinks actually fits the three of you quite nicely

Meanwhile you don’t think much of it

Instead just thinking of it as a the crew poking some light fun

Speaking of your role in the trio

You make sure neither of them get killed

Usually cause of both Buggy’s and his stupid plans of playing pranks or stealing more food from the kitchen instead of just asking

Both of which become much more successful that they aren’t arguing over said plan and screwing up

Now their Fort is stocked with cheese and as many sweets they could plunder

So much so that the cooks are now on edge as someone sets up a diversion for the other two to strike

It’s fun

A whole lot of fun that he realizes up until now you had seemingly missed

Admittedly he nor Buggy know much about you

Hell, none of the crew besides seemingly their captain knows anything

But honestly he’s fine with that

Their not entitled to that knowledge unless you deem them so

All that he’s focused on is the moment

The fun times he shared with you and Buggy

Nights spent out atop the crows nest looking up towards the stars

You explain that each has a story behind them all

Every island and their cultures have given them stories and formed differences constellations

It’s fascinating to him

Perhaps not Buggy who opts to go to bed

But as you both sit there, legs kicking back and forth while sitting on the ledge

It leaves him listening with eager ears

Engraining the new knowledge into his mind

It’s not just constellations that he listens about, it’s basically anything that you talk about

The others besides Rayleigh and Roger no one seems to notice how much you’d be seen despite your age

It’s odd but he notices

Especially as you sometimes mumble about how much you missed acting like a kid

Acting your age

It worries him

But he focuses on making you happy

Showing you the wonders of the life here

Stealing more food

Playing tag with Roger who can’t help but join much to everyone’s amusement

Outings on islands you sometimes recognize that usually end with the three of you raiding an ice cream shop

Sharing the spoils of stealing toys gotten from a few stores he might’ve yoinked them from

Times where he and Buggy protectively would start fights when other pirates at bats would try to pick on you

Roger would always laugh, calling them big brothers and mother hens

But of them would deny it even if they both knew deep down they saw you as a younger sibling

And that you did the same likewise

It was something unspoken but there that they all unconsciously and silently acknowledged

It came naturally as well

The two of them fretting over you when you got too close to the edge of the ship or did something reckless enough that even he and Buggy thought it was too dangerous

And that’s saying something

Their both really worried about that

You put your safety behind others

And whilst that might be fine in some cases in yours it’s dangerous

Really dangerous

There had been times he narrowly saved your life without you even knowing

A wild animal sneaking up from the brush

An enemy pirate almost swinging his sword at your neck

It bothers everyone on the crew how many close calls there were

Almost unnaturally so

But it makes him on edge even more when his captain has a look in his eye

One of unspoken sorrow and worry

Roger was a man who ran head first into danger

Someone who never considered the consequences before diving into the lions den

Never showing fear or hesitation for his actions

Only doing so when it came to the safety of his crew

And even then he knew they would be fine

They all had each other to rely on

But that look in his eyes directed towards you was something he’d never seen

Buggy tries to ease Shanks’s worried in his own…Buggy way

While he appreciates the effort not much can ease the tension in his shoulders

Roger never looked that worried

And that init of itself was scary

And it’s even more so when it’s directed at someone Shanks had dearly cared for

Rogers death comes as quick and painful as a shot to the chest

Burning white hot pain encompassing his entire form

Buggy and him got into a fight and when their separate ways

The crew disbanded

No one but Roger knows where you disappeared off to

He just said you were doing him a favour and like a whisper in the wind you were gone

Almost as if you were never there to begin with

The memories and small mementos show you were there though

Not a figment of his imagination

Not a cruel mirage

You were real, he knows that

Yet everything feels like a blur

Grief tinges his vision and mind like a filter over his perception of the world

For a long while he’s hopeless

Wishing and hoping to find someone

To perhaps find you once more

To find stability again

His dream lost and shattered

His life is very much the same

Yet after a long while he rebuilt himself

Began building his own crew

Finding and making stability once more as he sailed the seas both you and Roger loved with a whole heart

Many a nights he spends drinking and partying but occasionally finding a quiet corner for a moment

Staring up towards the night sky you taught him about

He always pours one out for the dead and lost of his former crew

A sign of respect for the people he might not meet again yet wishes to reunite with one day

In death or in life it doesn’t matter to him

Just one day meeting once more

You included

Though you had never formally joined the crew everyone had accepted you there with open hearts

Him definitely included

God he hopes your alright

That despite your terrible track record of danger and lack of self awareness you were alive

You’d be quite grown up by now

Maybe you found an island and settled down

He doubts that thought

You were much too like Roger and him

Souls called and nurtured by the sea and thrill of adventure

Never leaving her waves until possibly being drowned in her salty cold embrace

But that’s what makes him think that perhaps you hadn’t though

That perhaps instead you had died

The thought leaves him sick

So much so that when it happens he braces himself again the railing

Fingernails digging into the wood as his Haki flairs up

Seeping from his form and through the cracks of his cheery facade

Ben always notices

Pulling him back to the party and into his normal self

Handing him a fresh pint of beer with a knowing look

Shanks always gives him a thankful nod

Then going back to drinking with his crew

His first mate already knows of his history

Of why he’s wracked with grief and when no one’s looking stares off at the night sky

He’s never confused when Shanks returns to the party with an empty bottle yet doesn’t seem any drunker

Lucky and Yassop sometimes notice but don’t push him nor Ben on the topic

It’s better that way

Shanks would rather not air out old dusty laundry of his past anyways

Especially not when he had to keep morale up

Cause if his crew saw he was down in the dumps they’d follow suite

Caring too much about his sake to back down in doing something

It’s admirable

It reminds him of the good old days of the Oro Jackson

The way in which the crew would cheer you up when you were lost in thought

A glazed look of sorrow over your eyes they all desperately wanted to wash away

Because you were a kid

Because you were a friend

Because you were a part of their Nakama

Because you were his little sibling

No blood was shared between either of your veins yet the kinship of family was there anyways

He misses it

He misses a lot of things from the past but that’s one thing he especially longs for

Even if for just a moment he’d like to see you smile once more

Perhaps even hug you again and let himself cry

….yeah that sounded nice

Rumours on the sea spread fast and wide but are always dubious in nature and reality

It’s something you learn quick whilst on the seas

Especially when your as seasoned as he was in that retrospect

He’s spent his entire life on some sort of boat

being found by Roger in a treasure chest and being taken in by the entire crew

He was quite literally raised by the seas

It’s why when he hears rumours of a travelling child on the ocean going from place to place it doesn’t initially make him hopeful

It in fact makes him kinda melancholy

He can’t help it, not when he still wonders about you

Maybe that was your kid or something, he wouldn’t be surprised

But either way that wasn’t his business

Or at least that’s what he tells himself despite keeping an extra eye out for any small raft on the sea

A small desperate part of himself clinging to some sort of hope

That maybe it somehow was you despite the fact you’d be a grown adult

That after all this time of wondering and praying to whatever god had listened you were alive somehow

That the child more precious than any treasure he befriend all those years ago who he cared for as if they were his sibling was still out there

While at piers he tries to find what he’d imagined to be your grown up face in the crowds

Tries to find the rickety old dingy you called your loyal stead

And comes up empty handed as the whispers of the child on the raft continue to spill into his ears

At this point it’s either pointless fodder or a plain lie that leaves him disappointed

Ben pats his back as takes a sip of his drink, guzzling it down with ease as his men party around him

….and then someone enters the bar

He doesn’t care to turn around, not when he’s in a sour mood

Doesn’t care to bat an eye to the newcomer who sits themself down next to him on the only other empty barstool on account that no one wanted to be near a grumpy drunk emperor

Yet this either brave of foolish soul dares to do so

He’ll give them that, they either have balls of steel or a death wish since he really isn’t in the mood for bullshit right now-

“Huh?, what happened to Rogers hat? Did you give it away or something?”

Shanks goes still as the sound of your very familiar voice enters through his ears

He goes ridged and his emperors Haki lashes out

A few men drop to the floor as the attention turns to him and the small figure who sits looking up at him

Shanks slowly turns and faces someone he had missed for a long time now

There you sat

As young as ever, looking like you haven’t aged a day despite the fact it’s been well over a decade and now nearing a second decade

You still have Rogers coat but now it’s adorned with several trinkets and charms along with the fact you seemed to have gained more souvenirs from other pirate friends (much to his chagrin)

Your eyes are still innocent yet have the spark of something ancient in them

Chubby cheeks pulled up into a look of confusion at his agape reaction

He accidentally spits the beer out his mouth into Ben’s face

His right hand man can’t even seem to be mad when your looking up at the red haired man with a small grin at his expression

“Never thought you’d waste beer like that. Not when you’d beg Rayleigh and then sneak a sip from the mugs of people passed out”

Not even a word after that can come out your mouth before your in his arms

This feels unreal to him

Like a cruel dream he’s gonna wake up from

He’s preparing himself for it yet it doesn’t seem to happen

Your still in his arms

Your still you

He’s still him

His crew is watching gobsmacked and confused as tears begin to like his eyes

Him, red haired Shanks crying for the first time in years let alone at some small bar with a random kid he’s hugging

Maybe they think he’s so drunk that he’s imagining you as Uta or Luffy

But no

Your you

And perhaps that’s the one thing that makes this feel like some sort of fever Dream

He’ll give his captain credit where it’s due, he could’ve never imagined Roger keeping a secret let alone several important ones

Though Shank supposed that Roger was a man of his word, he’d rather cut off an arm rather than go back on a promise he made

And that extended to keeping something a secret

But he had to admit of all possibilities as to why you haven’t aged a single day this was the one he dreaded the most

He was hoping for some mad science experiment or just a weird devil fruit

But this was much worse

Immortality

Many people want it, but like a monkeys paw every blessing comes with a curse

And you had seen the extents of what it could bring to not only you but those you had gotten close to

The mental horror of watching someone you were close to die not knowing they would appear across the world moments later

And then having to grapple with the fact they had traumatized that person now with the possibility of meeting them again in the future

It sounded torturous

But it also now explained the fact as to why you were already hardened to the sea back then

Already seeing it’s worse storms and foes

It’s why your eyes despite their innocence are hallowed out, empty of life sometimes as you stared out towards the sea you loved

Why they always seemed older than what you looked

It’s cause you were technically older, just stuck physically and mentally as a child

One who had braved the seas for both its treasures and tortures

Content in wanting to explore and see all that could be seen, experience everything there was

It is fascinating as it is horrifying

He can’t imagine what you had been through up till now

Who you had met on your journeys

that explains why you’d always tell cryptic stories about people you’ve met that now looking back sound suspiciously like big mom and Kaido

Speaking of which that probably means their trying to look for you still

….god this did not turn out to be what he expected nor wanted

He takes a sip of his beer as his crew can’t also help but be exasperated from how nonchalant you are about all of this

As if dying repeatedly isn’t a big deal

Nor is meeting future emperors and Yonko’s who were definitely affected by your time with them

If he hears that you befriended Doflamingo or something then he’s officially done

With all these things coming to light though he can’t help the small grin that made its way onto his face

You weren’t exactly ok (at least mentally speaking) but you were alive

The greatest blessing that came with your immortality was that you were alive

He can’t help but continue to hold you close

You don’t mind, you had seemingly missed his presence over the years

Even if your time on his ship will be but a blip in your long life he knows you’ll remember it

You have that feeling as well

Every night with them is a party of sorts

Shanks had always been one who enjoyed a festival’s atmosphere so it’s no surprise that each night with his crew is an experience

They drink, laugh and dance with one another

Singing songs familiar to you and your years at sea

Even one that they now realize was made for you

The undying star in the sky that leads sailors to wonders untold

A spark of determination lit in their souls when the star moves across the sky to a new horizon

A lot of old stories and rumours at sea make sense now on the fact that your probably connected to them

But what’s perhaps the most funny thing about all that is the world government knows about you but doesn’t have a clear enough picture to try and pursue you

Photos are always blurry or downright incomprehensible, descriptions are muddied and vary

The people who met you refuse to tell even a pep of what you looked like

They can imagine it’s driving them mad

Especially Sengoku who has been tasked to find you for years now

And for a time you were right under his nose without even knowing

They all get a good cackle out of that

Imagining the old man’s face when he does eventually realize

It would probably take a big public event for that to happen though

Something you’d probably inevitably crash for whatever reason

So until then your relatively safe from marine pursuit

But even when that does inevitably happen you’ll have a good portion of the pirating world at your side

Him and his crew included

Like all those years ago on the Oro Jackson you work your ways into the crews hearts

A relatively quick process that somehow happens with everyone you meet

Yet it’s something that has yielded you much more power than you know of

Hell, your probably the most safe person on the sea not accounting your devil fruit ability on account of somehow getting on everyone’s good sides

How you did this he and his crew don’t know but it’s certainly something their suspecting is due to your devil fruit

Or you just have some uncanny ability in literally having the power of friendship or something

Either way their not writing it off as other just quite yet

Not when their all too caught up in your stories or insisting on teaching you blackjack

You don’t tell them you already know how to play, especially since you use that to win their desserts

Shanks just laughs, especially as they all sulk at “being beaten by a kid” momentarily forgetting your older than all of them

Whilst Shanks is both happy and ecstatic of finding you again he can’t help but feel melancholy

He swears he sees his old crew mates while lucky Rox and Yassop toss you around like a hot potato

His mind playing tricks as Ben messes up your hair just as Rayleigh did

Whenever this happens you seem to know

Always ending up at his side, going to a quiet part of the ship for a moment of peace where he can breath

In its there you both truly talk

You both catch up with what’s happened over the years

After the crew disbanded he was aimless

The fight with buggy

Him raising Uta with his crew before eventually leaving her for her own safety despite the fact it still kills him on the inside

The young boy who ate a fruit he was transporting for the world government, the reason why he doesn’t have Rogers hat anymore and why he’s missing an arm

It’s all a lot to process

Yet it’s even more when you tell him what’s happened on your end

The other pirates you’d met, the marines, becoming and dying as a slave

The pain

The loss

Everything

He can’t help but just sit there for a few solid minutes

Processing everything

And then comes the guilt

Tears

If he had tried harder to find you none of that would’ve happened

If he had done better

If he-

Your small hands shake him from his stupor as you place them gently on his tear stained cheeks

Here he was, an emperor crying as a child comforted him

Yet as he does it feels natural

Like back when he had a nightmare when he was a young teen and you talked with him to help distract from it all

The times that despite being your self appointed “older brother” he’d rely on you for advice

He crumbles in your gentle hands yet he does not care

Because when shanks is with you he knows he’s not the cabin boy of the Oro Jackson

He’s not red haired Shanks, the fierce-some emperor of the sea

He’s not shanks, the bastard child of some celestial dragon who was abandoned at birth in a treasure chest

He’s not the father who left his daughter out of both love and fear for her safety and wellbeing

He’s not the party animal who’s constantly drunk despite his power

To you Shanks is just Shanks

The man encompassed by the colour red

Rage

Stress

Love

Passion

And most importantly of all Determination

For once in a very long while he feels the stress fall from his shoulders

As much as he loves his crew and the sea he feels a heavy burden of responsibility on his chest out of love for them

But like a switch it melts away

He feels a bit guilty that he’s the one crying when your the one who went through so much pain

But when he sees your gentle smile he knows you don’t mind

A soft look of ‘its ok’ and ‘you can cry’

And so he does

So much so that his eyes turn red from irritation

It’s inevitable that you leave

He knows that when it comes to you yet he can’t help but feel sad

And notice something slightly different this time around

When on the Oro Jackson you’d leave from time to time

Staying for good portions of times before leaving for awhile and somehow always making your way back

You never once hesitated to leave

Back then they had all accepted it

Knowing you’d come back eventually, so much so that they’d plan parties in advance

But now as you prepare to leave it’s different

Your tired

It’s easy for him to tell since he’s known you for a good portion of time

Though your smile is as good as a mask as ever he sees the cracks

The way you don’t look at the sea like the way you once did

He can’t blame you

But it worries him

A part of him wants to offer you a place here permanently but that in some sense would be cruel

He can’t will himself to take advantage of your exhaustion to essentially trap you here

The sea is meant to be a place of freedom and would not shackle you like others once did

He won’t guilt you into this when he knows you’d stay out of guilt

He may be selfish but he isn’t selfish enough to do that

Not when all he wants is for you to be happy

So he prepares to let go

Knowing you’d meet again

But not before he throws you the biggest party they’ve had in a long while

Stacks of food are prepared

So many Desserts to the point big mom would have to stop and take a break from eating

Enough booze to create a running river

Streamers and confetti decorating the ship in all the colours of the rainbow

Songs sung loudly as the few who knew how to play instruments strummed away

Mihawk even showing up much to his surprise because he apparently already met you once before

Not surprised at that fact but Moreso on how that stubborn asshole gives you a small well made sword

One obviously custom made and designed for you with it’s whole star design

Neither of you elaborate how you both met

Both giving each other a silent stare before turning to him with shit eating grins saying that “that story is for another day”

It leaves his a bit huffy but he’s secretly happy that it seems the two of you are both well acquainted

Even more so that you finally have something to defend yourself with for once

God knows the amount of times he and buggy had tried to convince you to bring some sort of weapon only for them to say you’d be fine and then save you at the last minute from being stabbed

It seems Mihawk shared this same sentiment since he nearly jumps out of his skin when you start mock sword fighting with Ben and his second hand man gets the death eye of the century

It’s good though, especially as you sing with the crowd of drunks who are either happily joining in for the party or sadly joining in remembering this is a goodbye party

Your hoisted and thrown playfully in the air screaming the lyrics of shanties

Given a few sips of alcohol behind Ben’s and Mihawk’s backs (Shanks is guilty of this as well)

At some point someone decides fireworks are a good idea and almost set the ship on fire

It all works out though as sparks scatter in the sky

Fluttering down until fizzling out

All the while you watch on from the crows nest beside him

Everyone else down below watching and dancing

Mihawk nearby enjoying the lively atmosphere

It’s nice

Yet as he wishes for this moment can last forever he knows it can’t

The reminder of this is when you begin to speak once mor e

Shattering the silence he wishes to keep as to have the moment last longer

To not be reminded of the imminent departure from his ship that this entire party is about

Your words aren’t that bad yet it fills him with solace

You tell him you’ll keep your eye out for a kid in a straw hat

It’s probably inevitable you run into Luffy at some point

Knowing him you’ll probably even join him on some grand adventure

The kid Is a supernova waiting to happen and you seem to have an affinity for finding them

You also promise to check up on Uta for him if your given the chance

Meeting her when she was only a baby when he had found her in a treasure chest just as Roger had with him

For the first few months of her life you helped him raise her

The young toddler even eventually naming you her Auncle

The whole crew got a laugh out of that

As did he

But now as you say that it just reminders him you’ll be leaving again

He doesn’t have the courage to look you in the eyes until he looks up at the stars

They burn brightly in the sky

Golden light thousands of miles away yet still brilliant in their glow

And it’s there looking at those stars he’s reminded of the day you climbed aboard the Oro Jackson

The spark of determination in him to be your friend

…..determination

He remembers now why he had felt that calling all those years ago

The world government had been vague in why the fruit you ate was so important

Naturally Shanks attributed that to the nature of immortality that came with it

But it seems there was more to it than meets the eye

Whenever you had met someone you ended up being a catalyst to their determination towards something

And perhaps that was more powerful that immortality itself

Being the spark that can change someone’s entire life course

It’s no wonder why they wanted this fruit

One that would most definitely play into enlisting more powerful forces and lighting the fuse to their souls that would have them walk to the ends of the earth to accomplish it

It’s like with the gum-gum fruit that they had him try to deliver

But now thinking about it perhaps that one as well has some sort of other purpose they needed it for

Not if he has any say in it though

Shanks is a selfish pirate at heart and nothing comes between him and protecting his treasures

Whether that be a boy in a straw hat, a girl with half white and red hair or a child always floating at sea with stars in their eyes

He will fight tooth and nail to keep them safe

Cause selfishness is something taught to him by his captain

Protect what you love no matter the cost

Protect their freedom and your own,

Be determined to take the stand in liberation

Red is the colour of his hair and it encompasses his soul

Shanks’s hands are dyed that colour as well; the colour of blood and love.

He will continue to stain it that colour to protect what he’s passionate about with vigorous anger if the world government so much breaths in any of their directions

#platonic #shanks x reader #shanks #one piece x reader #one piece #determination!

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

Text

✨Love Amidst The Blue Part 1: Discovering the Siren✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Welcome to my little mermaid au world featuring sailor! Joel 💙 I hope you enjoy this story I put together, and please tell me what you think! Comments and reblogs always appreciated and thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for reading over this and giving me suggestions! 🥰

Summary: Joel sets out on the Tyrrhenian Sea with his crew in search for hidden treasure. What he doesn’t know is that he’ll meet a beautiful mermaid that will turn his world upside down. Will he win her over or will he introduce a long ago foe to the mermaids of the hidden underwater city of Capri?

Pairing: sailor! Joel x mermaid fem! reader

Word Count: 9.1k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Longing, feelings, eventual smut, Joel discovers a mermaid, mermaids try to drown Joel, slight angst

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

The crystal blue water of the Tyrrhenian Sea is calm, the wind gently blowing the sails of the Deep Blue Oasis as it rocks back and forth slowly. That was the name of Joel’s boat, one of his most prized possessions. A gateway to the unknown where he could clear his mind and get lost on the aqua ocean tides that have called to him for as long as he could remember.

A call to the side of him that loves history , ancient things, and to the treasure hunter in himself. He spent countless days out on the tides of the sea, always looking for hidden treasures that may be hiding under the deep blue water. His scattered map was marked with red inked circles and x’s of areas where there was said to be lost treasures down below. He swore to his father he’d find them one day and make him proud.

Joel’s father was a wealthy businessman, always focused on the clients in Italy and making a fortune of his own. Joel didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. He wanted to be out on the sea, out where the ocean breeze could ruffle through his curly locks and carry him into the unknown. He always loved the water and the salty sea air, always wanted to become a sailor to travel the world. His father never approved of it, though. He said it was a waste of time and money, until that dark day that he passed away. His last dying breath was him telling Joel to buy a big boat and sail. Make me proud, son. Follow your dream. Those words still haunt him to this day, the few words he begged his father to say his entire life. So on his thirtieth birthday, that’s exactly what he did.

Five years later Joel had his own boat, his own crew, his own freedom to do as he pleased. His crew wasn’t the most trustful men, but they earned his trust little by little. He befriended some filthy pirates on one of his sea explorations a couple of years ago. At first they threatened him, but he was smart and talked them out of stealing from him and taking over his boat. He offered them so much money that they couldn’t refuse. They agreed to work for him and show him parts of the sea that he’d never been to. Sure, they had their flaws and their bad habits, but he couldn’t do this without them. So he decided to give them a chance.

Joel unfolds his large map of the area and lays it out flat on the side of the railings, studying the area like he knows exactly where he’s headed to. He rolls up his white cotton sleeves and traces lines of the faded map, mapping out this specific area with the tip of his finger.

“Captain Miller, the boys think it’s in this area,” Jasper voices over the blowing breeze, making Joel stop to look up from his marked map.

“What is?” he asks with a raised brow.

“The hidden underwater city of Capri,” Jasper says with excitement in his flushed swampy eyes. His linens are tattered, his blonde hair outgrown and unkempt, his crooked smile waning up at Joel as mischief plays in his scattered mind.

“I thought that was just a folktale? The underwater city. People have searched for years and found nothing. What makes you so sure this place is here?” Joel asks with narrowed dark eyes, waiting for an honest answer from his so-called pirate friend.

“Mermaids, cap’n. They’re here in this area,” Jasper says with the gleam of his eye, sure of himself as much as he’s sure of how to sail this boat.

“Mermaids…” Joel questions, flicking his eyes out to the blue tides as the water gently laps at the large rocks in the water. “I’ve never seen a mermaid, Jas. Only seen them in some old books in my study. As far as I’m concerned, they aren’t here.”

Joel starts to turn around, but Jasper catches his arm. “I swear on my life, mate. They're as real as you and me. Seen one with my own eyes. Not long ago either. Beautiful creatures they are, their siren songs able to hypnotize anyone who dares to look them in the eyes. Saw one drown one of my men before. Grabbed him by the arm and pulled him under with her song. He was never seen again,” he says with sad eyes, looking out into the bright horizon as seagulls and pelicans flock the sunny sky.

Joel ticks his jaw and looks out amongst the miles and miles of open ocean, only seeing the lapping waves as they hit the bottom of the boat. “Jasper, I’m gonna have to see one with my own eyes to believe it. Maybe it was sun poison that made you see things.”

“It wasn’t sun poison, Joel! If you won’t believe me, then I pray one day you do see one. Am I one to lie?” he asks with a heated stare and a hand on his grimy hip.

Joel knits his brows together and stares for a minute at the pirate that swears on his life he’s seen a mermaid. While Jasper doesn’t usually lie to Joel, he’s still a pirate. Still willing to lie and cheat his way around the system. But he’s also the most trustful of his crew, so he’s torn. Maybe it wasn’t a mermaid he saw, but maybe another sea creature. Yes. That’s what it must’ve been. Something else.

Joel puts a hand on Jasper’s shoulder and nods his head. “Sure, Jas. But let’s keep our eyes out for this.” Joel puts his index finger on the red x that’s marked right around the sea cave that sits a few hundred feet from the boat. Supposedly there was a ship wreck that happened years ago, and men have tried and failed to discover what great treasures were lost to the sea that day. Those who go in, never come out. Joel would find out, though. One way or another he’d discover the secret of what happened so many years ago.

“Go on and have the men anchor the boat. Wanna stay here overnight and see if we can find anything.”

Jasper nods his head and huffs out a breath. “Yes, cap’n. Right away.” He turns and yells at the men to hoist the anchor and get ready to search the area.

Joel folds the map back up and places it in the pocket of his tan trousers. He sighs and looks out at the massive sea cave, watching the waves churn calmly against the rough rocks.

Mermaids. There couldn’t be any. He would’ve seen one before, would’ve remembered if he did. He lets his thoughts go back to the task at hand and clears his mind. No time to think of maybe’s and false folklore. It was time to find some treasure.

The water is crystal clear today, sunlight beaming through the long seaweed that sits tangled in the ocean. You swim your way past a pod of dolphins, waving hello to the newborn calves as they whistle out their greetings. You dive down hundreds of feet and hum your favorite lullaby. The one your mom used to sing you every night before you fell asleep in the comfy bed of a massive clam shell.

A school of colorful fish swim past you, and you smile up at them as you propel yourself faster to get to your favorite discrete area of the bay. You call it the moonlight sea cave because at night you can see the moon shine all the way through the entire cave system, even under the water. It’s beautiful, a place where you can go to think and relax.

You always have to sneak off to this area. Your sisters would never approve, and you shudder thinking how your father would react. How many times has he told you to never go up to the surface again? How many times had your sisters dragged you back home over the years? You couldn’t keep track, didn’t want to think about it.

After that awful day that happened so many years ago, you weren’t supposed to want to go back up to the surface. You weren’t supposed to look for treasure that humans always dropped off their boats, but you still did. And you definitely weren’t supposed to be this close to shore, but you were still quite a ways out. Your father would kill you if he found you swimming around these parts, but you chose to ignore his wishes like you always did.

You swim up to the surface and lift your face into the sunlight, breathing the fresh salty air as you inhale the warm breeze. You push your long hair over your shoulder and take a few strides through the water, floating in the waves as the salt water dries on your shoulders.

When you look up, you freeze as your blood runs cold. A boat, there’s a boat. It’s big, towering over the water as a crew of men work on casting nets and walk along the deck. You duck down in fear and hide behind a rock, hoping that they haven't seen you. You slowly peek your head around the corner and stop in your tracks when you see him. The most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

He’s tall, broad shouldered, and has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. His hair is dark, tousled curls blowing in the wind as a few strands fall near his eyes. Brown, warm flecks coat his eyes. Eyes you could get lost in, eyes that you’d now dream about for days on end. And his arms. They’re strong, built, powerhouses that could take down a large man. The top buttons on his white cotton shirt are open, exposing tanned skin that must bathe in the sunlight on a regular basis.

You’re supposed to hate humans. You don’t trust them, you don’t think you could ever trust them again. But him… he looks like a walking dreamboat, a sailor you’d like to get to know. He doesn’t look like all the other ones, no. He looks kind, caring, maybe even dare you say trusting. But he’s a human, and you’re a mermaid. This can’t happen, this can’t ever happen.

Scar bumps your hip with his large fin as he makes a circle around you, warning you that you could be seen. “It’s okay, Scar. They can’t see me, I don’t think. It’s alright.”

He bumps you again with his snout and looks at you with his big black eyes, his dorsal fin coming just above the surface. He tells you to be careful, tells you he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. You only smile and brush your hand against his sandpaper like skin.

“I’m alright. Promise. Go on, I’ll be fine. Just gonna stay here for a few minutes,” you confirm. He huffs out a sigh and dives back down into the deep depths of the water, but he stays close. He always stays close. Who knew that a great white shark would be one of your best friends in the sea? They usually don’t want anything to do with mermaids, but you saved him that awful day that was full of bloodshed and death. And ever since then he never left your side. You were grateful for him. He was the best protector you ever had.

You stay there against the rock and lean your elbows up on it, continuing to watch the handsome man look over what looks like an old map of some sort. You lap your tail up and down in the water and lean your cheek against the rock, daydreaming of meeting the man with dark eyes.

He was going to get you in trouble, but you didn’t care. You’d risk your life just to get a chance to stare into the maps of his golden brown eyes.

Joel clings to the side of the boat as he digs his nails into the warm, polished wood. He turns his head to watch his crew stay busy on the deck as they bustle around and drag their worn out shoes against the floorboards. He sighs and takes another look at his intricate map, tracing his finger over every crevice of the parchment until he gets frustrated and throws his head up to look out on the bright horizon.

As soon as he looks up, he stops cold as he spots the gleam of a sparkling tail in the near distance. It’s not just a tail, there’s a girl leaning up against a rock that’s staring right back at him. He rubs his eyes to make sure it’s not the sun playing tricks on his mind, but she still appears there in the same spot just staring blankly at him. He sees a young woman who’s beautiful, dreamlike, something he only thought was a fantasy. He sees you, a mermaid…

Mermaids aren’t real, mermaids can’t be real. But how does he explain what he clearly sees now? You are very much real.

His ears ring with white noise, the sounds of his crew scrubbing along the deck nearly nonexistent now. It’s just you and him, staring at each other as if you’re the only two people out on the calm waters. It’s just the gentle breeze kissing his tanned skin and the distant noise of waves lapping against the rock that you so subtly lean against, eyes locking with each other as if the world crashes on its side to bring the two of you together.

He grabs his golden telescope, looking through the lense as you come into view just inches from his vision. The sight of you nearly knocks the breath out of him, his eyes widen as he takes in the beauty that sits before him. He thinks you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on, thinks you’re absolutely divine, a treasure that should be well cared for.

His eyes trail down your lush curves, taking in the dusty coral colored seashells that cover your breasts, scanning every inch of your shimmering tail that’s soft pink as it flicks back and forth against the water. It’s almost sparkling like diamonds, maybe even soft to the touch. He wonders what you feel like, what you sound like. He bets your voice is like an angel’s, captivating and melodic like nothing he’s ever heard on earth. He wonders what your hands feel like, how they’d feel entwined in his own.

You should swim away, dive back underneath the blue water, but you can’t move. You can’t look away from the handsome stranger. You want to know his name, want to ask him all about what land life is like, want to know if his voice is as soft as his tousled curls look, want to see him again and again…

“Cap’n, whatcha lookin’ at?” Jasper asks as he comes up to Joel and nearly sends him over the edge of the boat. Joel drops the telescope from his unsteady hand, and it lands in a heap on the wooden deck. He scrambles to pick it up, and when he stands up and looks back out at the rock he sees that you’re gone.

He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head slowly. “It was nothing, Jas. Just thought I saw something. Was only a dolphin, nothing else,” he says with a hint of sadness on his tongue, wishing you were still on the rock so he could look into your entrancing eyes.

“Too bad it wasn’t a mermaid. Could’ve made you a true believer,” Jasper laughs as he hits Joel on the back of the shoulder with more force than he meant to.

“Yeah, too bad…” Joel says quietly as he stares at the vacant rock, doing nothing for his peace of mind as he wishes you were still there.

When he turns away from the rock, he sets his eyes back on the folded out map and grabs it up, heading toward the rest of his crew as they send down row boats to go inspect the area.

Joel makes a promise to himself then. Tonight he’ll go out late at night and look for you, hoping you’ll hear his thoughts that he wants to see you again. He will see you again. That’s a promise he will surely keep.

Later that night, Joel tosses and turns in his cabin quarters underneath the boat. He can’t sleep, can’t think as he tosses and turns back and forth in his bed. He thinks of you, the way your tail shimmered in the glow of the sun, how your eyes called to him from the deck of the boat. He needs to see you again. He needs to talk to you.

He crawls out of the bed and throws on his leather boots, lacing them up as he climbs up the stairs and enters into the glow of the full moon as the stars sparkle in the sky. He tiptoes around drunken pirates that are passed out cold on the deck, snoring and limbs scattered about as he passes them carefully to not wake them.

He paces the upper deck, sliding his hands along the edge, searching and searching for any sign of moment in the water. He only sees the faint laps of water against the boat, sees nothing out of the ordinary. He starts to doubt himself, maybe he saw nothing. Maybe it really was the sun playing tricks on his brain. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He sighs and starts to turn around, until he hears a soft melody carrying through the water. He turns around sharply and latches onto the wooden edge of the boat, eyes searching as he hears the sing-song voice start to come closer. It’s angelic, harmonious, nothing that he’d ever heard before. It sends him into a trance-like state, needing to find the owner of the beautiful song.

You wade through the water, flipping your tail as you hide behind the large rocks, singing the song of your people as you let your voice blow through the breeze, hoping he can hear you, hoping he’ll come.

Please, come. Come out to the sea, let me see your beautiful face.

You let your voice carry over the water, humming out melodic notes as you flip through the water. He has to come. He has to hear your voice, has to listen to you call him with your siren song. Come on, handsome sailor. Come find me.

You peek your head out from behind the rock and see him standing there on the deck, staring at you as his eyes go wide. You smile triumphantly as you duck back under the water, tempting him to come chase you.

Come get me, come get me. Find me under the water.

Joel wastes no time and lowers a wooden row boat to the water, climbing down a ladder as he jumps carefully onto the small boat as it rocks underneath his weight. He rows it out slowly to the middle of the water, searching his eyes every which way to find you.

“Where are you? Come out,” he whispers into the crisp night air.

He hears a splash to the left of him and throws his head in that direction. He sees small bubbles that form over the water, but there’s no sign of you. He sighs and pulls his eyes toward the rock and then he sees you.

He audibly gasps as you splash your tail and hide back behind the shelter of the big foundation in the water, nerves pulling in you as you’re so close to the human. The human with dark eyes and beautiful face. A human you want to meet.

He crawls to the edge of the little boat and places his hands on the edge, calling out to you in a deep voice that sends goosebumps down your arms. “Hey, come out. It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. Please, don’t hide,” he says, calmly holding out an arm as if he wants you to take it.

You peek your head out from behind the rock carefully and see him leaning against the boat, a little too close to the water. He doesn’t know what dangers lurk beneath him, what things would reach out and drag him under the water.

You shouldn’t go, shouldn’t talk to a human. Humans are bad, humans are cold, cruel, vial. They killed so many of your kind, tortured your friends of the sea. But him… Well, he looks kind. He looks… safe. Safe? Could humans be safe? No. Could they…

This was stupid and reckless. You start to turn back into the shadows until he calls out to you again. “Wait, please. Don’t go. Stay,” he pleads, his eyes searching yours with some kind of intensity and longing that you’ve never seen before. It frightens you more than the horrors humans have caused in your life.

Stay. The word wracks your brain over and over as it pulls at your insides.

Stay. He asked you to stay. You decide then that that’s exactly what you’ll do. You’ll stay. You’ll stay for him. You might regret it later, but for now this is what you wanted. What you needed to do.

You start to swim slowly over to him, diving under the water and breaching just inches from his wooden boat. You come up for air, realizing just how close you are to his face now. He’s so beautiful, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life.

His skin is tan, the sun bronzing him as he seems to spend days on end on the water. His shoulders are broad, so strong as your eyes trail down his thick arms, ropes of taut veins spread wide over his lower arms. His hands look strong, big, calloused from working on a boat. You bet they feel nice, would like to feel them pressed up against your face or maybe have them entwined with your fingers.

His dark, tousled curls kiss his forehead as stray curls fall over his skin. You have to stop yourself from reaching out your hand to push them back into place. You think it must feel so soft, so smooth…

And his eyes. God, his eyes. They’re deep brown, flecks of golden warmth sprawled across the crevices of his irises. They’re beautiful, deep, intricate as they study you carefully.

He digs his hands into the side of the boat and leans so far forward you’re afraid it may tip over. You make sure that it doesn’t because these waters are dangerous to humans, dangerous to men such as himself.

He looks at you with wide eyes, his lips parting as he takes in your features. He’s so close that he can make out details he couldn’t see up on the boat through the telescope. Like your eyes. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes such as yours. They glisten like the stars, almost as deep as the ocean itself, captivating and breathtaking.

He takes in your long hair that sits over your shoulders as you nervously run your hands through the damp strands. And then there’s your tail. That glittering, magnificent tail that almost looks too intricate to be real. He focuses on each shiny scale, watching the way the colors go from a deep pink to a lighter flamingo shade of coral. He wants so badly to reach his hand out to touch it, see how it feels underneath the weight of his calloused fingers.

Just one touch, that’s all he needs. One touch to make this dream a harsh reality as a mermaid sits right in front of him, right in his grasp.

You see the way he stares all transfixed and in a trancelike spell. You might be insane, but the first words fall from your lips without a hint of hesitation there. “Do you want to touch it?” you ask shyly, pulling back a lock of hair behind your ear as you position your tail so it’s sitting out of the water, just inches from his waiting hand.

“What?” he asks surprised, eyes wider than the full moon in the clear night sky.

“My tail. Do you want to touch it?” you ask again with more courage this time, flicking your tail above the water as you entice him to go on.

“Oh-uh… yes,” he whispers out as he slowly but steadily reaches his arm out, ever so carefully extending his fingers as they brush over the side of your tail.

He gasps as his fingers come in contact with the shiny scales, like the breath has been knocked clear out of him. It’s nothing like he imagined it’d be. It’s softer than he thought possible, smooth as he glides his fingers underneath the cold water.

You almost stop breathing as you feel his fingers explore the magnificent scales on your long tail, almost sigh at the contact of his skin. No one had ever touched you quite like this, even if it was just the brush of fingertips. It feels… good. And you want more, need more.

He pulls his hand back out of the water, and you almost whine as you lose the contact of his fingers. You’d let him touch you again, let him marvel your tail all night if he wanted to. It was silly really, how attracted you were to him when you only just met him. He was just that beautiful, that mesmerizing. And for a moment you think he is the siren, not you.

“You’re a… you’re a…” he stutters, voice hoarse as he continues to stare at you with a starstruck gaze. He’d never seen a mermaid before, that much is certain.

“A mermaid?” you finish for him, almost giggling at his gaping stare.

“Yes,” he says in disbelief, nodding his head up and down. “I didn’t know you, mermaids existed,” he says with a look that says everything you need to know. He’s harmless, not here to hurt you.

“Well, we’re very much real. We’re just discrete, careful. We don’t really come up to the surface, not anymore,” you say quietly, shaking away the memories of distant screams and bloodshed that once was long ago. The memories are too painful to relive, so you lock them out of your mind and try to forget every day that you exist in a world that did that to your kind.

He doesn’t ask about the distant sadness in your eyes, you just smile and clear your eyes as you continue to gaze up at him curiously.

“What’s your name?” he asks slowly, eyes never leaving yours as you let your name slip past your tongue. You drop it carefully, giving him information that seems too personal, but you’re in too deep now. You want to know about him, and he clearly wants to know about you. So you’ll let him in, even if that’s a bad idea. A very bad idea.

He repeats your name slowly, going over every syllable so carefully as it rolls off his lips effortlessly. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. You could lean against the edge of the boat and lay your head against your arm as you look up and hear him repeat your name over and over again. Almost like a lullaby as it could put you to sleep with how deep and mesmerizing his smooth voice sounds.

“My name’s Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with deep brown eyes looking down into yours.

You repeat the name over and over in your mind. Joel, Joel, Joel. It pulls at you, calls you as you hook your fingers around the edge of the small boat and feel his hand brush up against yours. You gasp and pull your hand back, feeling an electrical shock run through your entire arm at the connection of skin on skin with him. You’d never felt that before, that kind of connection with anyone. This was new, this was scary, this was dangerous.

He notices the panic in your eyes and puts his hands up calmly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you. See?” he asks as he surrenders his hands, letting you know he means no harm.

Darlin’. The name sends warmth through your stomach as you mull over his words. I’m not gonna hurt you. You let those words be a promise as you cautiously put your hands back on the edge of the boat. He brings his hands back down, just enough where if you shift your fingers they’d brush up against his. But for now you stay like this, just enough to still feel that electricity deep in your body.

“Darling, what’s that?” you ask with a raised brow, not having heard the word before.

“You’ve never heard the word darlin’ before?” he asks as he knits his thick brows together, pulling at the seams of your heart.

You shake your head no as droplets of water trickle down your back. “No, guess I haven’t,” you say with an even breath.

“It’s just a term of endearment where I’m from. A nickname, you can say,” he answers, his hand moving just enough for him to brush the outer edge of your pinky finger. You suck in a breath and try not to get too flustered at the action.

“Oh, I see,” you say quietly. “Darlin’, I like that…”

You ponder over the name and ask something else in return. “Do you have any other nicknames you use?” you ask, biting your lip at the question as you wait patiently.

He twitches his jaw and looks you over carefully before he responds. “I mean, there’s a lot I could use, I suppose. Darlin’ just comes naturally to me, but you…” His soft brown eyes flick over yours slowly before he speaks again. “Sirena, yeah. I like that,” he smiles to himself as your lips curl up slowly.

“Sirena, hmmmm,” you hum to yourself. “I like that, but what does it mean?”

“It comes from a Greek word. It means siren or enchantress, which you are. You are quite enchanting,” he says with a gleam in his eyes, his words in a trancelike state as he stares into your eyes.

You gulp at the meaning, eyes fixed on his intently. He called you enchanting, he thinks you’re enchanting. It shouldn’t make you feel so much closer to him, it’s only a nickname, a silly name. But it does. It does.

When you don’t speak, he asks another question. “What’s it like out there? Under the water? To be able to breathe and see things I couldn’t quite imagine myself?” His brown eyes sink into yours, shifting his weight slightly as the wooden boat creaks underneath him.

“It’s the most amazing thing you could imagine,” you say enchanted, your tail grazing above the water as you spin up a small current underneath you. “Unearthly, exquisite. There’s truly nothing like being able to connect with nature, to be able to see the wonders of fathoms below that no human has seen before. It’s freeing, beautiful, amazing, but…”

Your voice cuts off at the last part, thinking about all the things you wish you knew about the real world outside the waters of your home. Something you always wanted to know ever since you could remember. A taste for knowledge of the outside world, the human world.

“But what?” he asks quietly, almost putting his hand on top of yours before you shy away and move your fingers out of his reach.

“I just… I just wonder what the human world is like sometimes. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But I just have that deep fascination with things I don’t quite understand. I crave to know the history of the land, want to know what it’s like to touch actual sand out of the water. Want to know how a…. oh, what’s the word?” you wrack your brain for what seems like minutes until you think of the word you once saw on a picture in a book. “How a fire burns,” you say proudly after remembering the strange words.

“Maybe I can teach you a thing or two about the human world. If you teach me about the underwater world.”

You mull over the words, think of what you could be risking. You could expose too much, you could open up a can of worms that you couldn’t close. You could risk everything. But for him maybe it was worth the risk. You could trust him, right?

As if he can read your mind, he places a hand gently on top of yours and you gasp at the contact. His touch is so careful, so soft atop yours. You think you like it, a lot. “You can trust me, darlin’. I swear on my life, I won’t hurt you. Do you trust me?”

Do you trust me? The words ring through your head as you question the words yourself. Trust was a big deal, trust meant you were putting your own life on the line. But as you look into his soft brown eyes and see the genuine smile curled on his plush lips, you can’t help but lose yourself as you automatically nod and respond, “I trust you.”

His face is so close to yours, so close that if he leaned down just a little he could brush his lips against yours. It’s as if he can hear the wild beating of your heart as it beats like a pod of dolphins traveling as fast as lightning through the water. Your eyes gaze into his, begging him to sink his lips down to yours.

He reaches his hand out and traces the edge of your jawline slowly, intimately. You gasp at the feel of him, as his calloused fingers trail gently over your skin. It feels warm, safe, so very right like his hand was made to touch you, to know you. He sees you. He sees you.

Just when he’s about to lean down and give you what you desire, the boat suddenly flips over and Joel goes crashing into the water.

“Joel!” you scream as you dive down to retrieve him, but he’s not there where he should be. Where is he? You call his name again, search below the dark depths below, twist your way through the seaweed and look frantically around until you see what exactly happened.

Your eyes go wide, a scream escaping your mouth as you find two of your sisters holding him down below the water trying to drown him. He fights their grip, trying to hold his breath as he looks terrified of what’s happening. Your sisters just smile vindictively to each other as their aquamarine and deep purple tails flick against the water and draw their sharp nails into his arms.

“Stop!” you beg as you swim desperately up to them and try to grab his arms out of their reach. They back up just enough so you can’t quite grab him.

Cleo stands her grown and flashes her white incisors your way as her blue tail fans out behind her. “He’s a human! A man, for crying out loud! All men should die for what they did to us,” she spits out, a snarl deep on her flawless face as your other sister Marissa agrees with her.

“He’s different. Joel is different!” you plead, reaching your hand out again.

“Joel. You know him by name? Can you believe that, Cleo? He has a name. How thoughtful of our sister to learn such information of this beast,” she laughs sadistically as she yanks him under again.

You watch his eyes start to close, watch his breath gasp for air as he slowly fades from the light. You grow desperate, hasty as you swim with all your might to grab his arms out of your sisters’ grip.

“Please, he’s kind! Don’t do this. Don’t take this one!” you beg as tears start to pour from your eyes, landing against your cheeks as they float off into the unsteady waters.

Your sisters drop their hands, eyes wide at how desperate you’re acting over a human. But he’s not just a human, he’s different. This one is different.

They both watch you take his body against yours as you wrap your arms behind the backs of his arms and start to hoist him to the surface. They stop you before you breach atop the water, grabbing your slippery fin as they stop you from swimming any further.

“You better be careful, sister. You don’t know what danger you’re putting us in. Interacting with a man? You’re foolish, selfish. How do you think father will handle this?” Cleo asks with narrowed eyes that could kill a man with how sharp she’s staring.

“Don’t you dare tell him, Cleo. Just… let me go. Please,” you beg as you try to squirm out of her hold. “He’s going to die if you don’t!” you scream, eyes wide as his head slumps against your shoulder weightless, almost like he’s already dead. Panic consumes you at the mere thought of it.

“Go on, then,” she says with a snarky look. “I won’t tell him… yet. But be warned. If he does anything to sway my judgement and I mean anything, I’ll have no choice but to tell him,” she warns as Marissa spits in your direction.

Cleo finally releases your fin as you swim frantically up, up, up until you break the seal and breathe fresh air again. Joel doesn’t stir, doesn’t even seem to be breathing as his head still rests lazily against the crook of your neck.

You look around desperately for anything you can lay him on, needing to stir him awake somehow. You need to get him someplace dry.

“Joel, just hold on. You’ll be alright. Please, just hang on,” you cry out as you circle around frantically looking for anything you can use.

That’s when you see it, a large flat rock that lays above the water in the middle of the sea cave you always find yourself in. You push yourself forward in the water, making sure to keep his head above the stirring waves. You turn on your back and hold his body above yours as you propel your strong tail in the water, trying with all your might to get there faster.

He’s going to die and it’s all your fault. Why were you being so reckless? The words taunt your mind like your sisters’ glaring warnings. You can’t think about them now, the only thing you care about is getting Joel to wake up. He needs to breathe, he needs to wake up.

You drag his body up on the smooth rock and lay him flat on his back. He has no sign of breathing anywhere, his chest is still as dawn like the sun slowly rising in the horizon.

You try to shake his shoulders, try to rub at his sternum forcefully as if that’ll wake him up. Nothing happens. You try again, calling his name and shaking him, screaming for him to wake up. But again there’s no movement, no breath coming from his mouth.

You crash down on top of him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting a tear drop from your melancholy eyes as it falls against his still chest. You whimper out a pathetic sound that sounds like you’re choking on your own words. “Come back to me, Joel. Come back,” you plead, face still pressed against his hollow chest as you let another tear fall in his presence.

You feel cold, hard pressed, wounded as if someone just took a sharp stake to your chest. You shouldn’t feel like this, shouldn’t let yourself feel so much for a human who you barely know. But he was going to show you his world, was going to teach you everything you wanted to know, and you were going to show him your world. But that’s no more. He’s gone. He’s gone.

You let the falling tears dry up on his cotton white shirt where the buttons lay half opened to expose tanned skin, can feel just how broad and strong he is underneath your weight. And you wish he’d wake up, wish he’d open his soft brown eyes so you could sink into them, sing him a melody while he grazed his fingers gently against your face. You want it so bad, want him so bad. But it could never be now. Not anymore.

You let your hand fall to his chest and wrap your fingers around his damp white shirt. You start to hum out your favorite lullaby, a way to soothe you over against the hurt you feel in your chest now as it aches and twists like a knife in your gut. Singing has always been a way to make you feel braver, a way to drown out the sorrows of dark days. Your mother always said you had the most beautiful voice she’d ever heard, but she was also gone now. Gone on that awful, dark day where blood filled the waters of your home. Gone.

You push the thoughts away, continue singing your song as if this will make the situation better. You close your eyes and drown out the lapping waves with your voice, making sure it echoes off every corner in the open cave.

Just as you’re about to push yourself off him, you feel movement underneath you. Just a faint lurch beneath you until he’s turning on his side and coughing up water out of his lungs rapidly, spilling it all over the glossy rock as he tries to catch his breath from all the choking and coughing his body expels.

“Joel?!” you ask alarmed, your hand shooting up to his face as you caress the soft, patchy scruff against his jawline carefully.

He lays on his back again and slowly opens his eyes, placing his hand over yours as he calls your name softly, his words still laced with salt water that still burns the back of his throat, but he answers anyway. And your name out of his mouth sounds like the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“You’re alive?” you ask quietly, eyes wide as you stare down at him with your mouth parted open slightly.

“Thanks to you, I am,” he says with a nod up at you, his hand still lingering on top of yours as his calloused fingers send sparks down your arm. It’s electric, shocking as it blinds you with need.

You gulp but don’t say anything else, too afraid to ruin the moment. “Your voice,” he says nodding to you again, “I’ve never heard a voice quite as beautiful as yours. I thought I was in heaven for a second there, thought you were an angel.”

Beautiful? An angel? Oh.

“An angel? Not quite,” you giggle, dropping your hand from his face to rest on his broad chest.

He lifts his arm up slowly and hooks a piece of damp hair behind your ear, trailing his calloused fingers along your cheek as he stares at you with wide brown eyes. Eyes that make your insides turn to putty.

“You are an angel,” he nods, his lips curling up into a soft smile that could knock you back into the water.

He thinks you’re an angel…

“Oh,” is all you can say.

He looks at you like no one else has, looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world. He sees you for what you are, a siren, and yet he doesn’t run. He doesn’t run. He stays.

His lips look so soft, so plush that you think you’d like to feel them pressed up against yours. His eyes flick back and forth between your wanting eyes and your parted mouth, and you think he wants the same thing.

You start to drift toward him, closer and closer until you’re almost there, almost touching his lips. He reaches to cup the back of your head, steering you down, down until you’re barely a breath away from him.

Suddenly there’s a large splash in the water, and you jump apart from him as he sits up on his elbows and gazes out into the dark blue rippling water. He sees a large fin and goes ghost white as he takes in the long body of the great white shark that lurks around the area. His eyes go wide as he sinks against the cave wall behind him as if to hide from the creature of the deep.

“It’s alright,” you say calmly as you reach your arm under the shadow of the water and call the shark over to you. Joel’s chest rises and falls unsteadily as his eyes remain locked on the terrifying features of Scar.

“Your hand, get your hand out of the water,” Joel urges as he tries to pull you back, but you wave him off.

“Joel, it’s alright. He’s my friend.”

Scar circles back around and brushes his body up against your hand as you pet his back and let him disappear back under the water.

“You’re friends with a shark?” he asks surprised, eyes still peeled on the shadow that looms around the area.

“Mhm. I saved his life many years ago, and he’s never left my side since then. Kinda ironic how people misinterpret them. Sharks may look scary to the human eye, but they’re really peaceful creatures. If you just took a few minutes to really see them, you’d see they’re just trying to live peacefully in their home. They just want to survive like any of us do.”

Joel looks at you as if really hearing you for the first time. The way you talk about the ocean, about the creatures of the deep makes him feel things he’s never even thought of before. He thinks you’re beautiful, breathtaking, and so kind. So very kind…

“You’re really something out of a fairytale, aren’t you?” he asks with wonder in his voice, his brown eyes sinking into yours as he focuses on the warm smile you give him as you blush crimson.

“I guess you could say that, sailor?” you giggle out. “That’s what you are, right?”

“Yes,” he nods as he looks over at his boat that sits idle over the calm tides.

“Is that your boat?” you ask as your eyes wander over to the large vessel that sits in the water under sparkling stars. You flick your eyes over the sides, noticing the large blue flags that fly gently in the cool breeze and notice the words Deep Blue Oasis written in cursive letters that hang down the side.

“Yep, that’s my beauty. Been sailin’ on her for a few years now. Probably one of my favorite things ever. To be able to sail across the waters and explore areas I’ve never been to before. It’s all very… exciting.”

You watch the way his eyes light up the way he talks about the sea, watch the way his smile curls over his lips as he talks about his love for sailing. You think it’s hypnotizing, beautiful. You think he is beautiful.

“What are you doing around this part? Looking for something?” you ask as your eyebrows rise up, intrigued why he was staying around these parts.

“There was a ship that went down many years ago here. There’s all sorts of tales and rumors that some great treasure was lost here with the ship. And I want to find it,” he states excitedly.

A shipwreck many years ago? You think you know which one he’s talking about, like maybe it was that same night that all the bloodshed went down. The night you lost your mother to those bloodsucking humans…

He notices your eyes shift from lit up to cold irises, feels the dread that seems to take over your body for the moment. But then he’s cupping your chin and lifting your eyes up to his warm brown eyes, and you feel like you’ve made it safely back home.

“You alright, darlin’? You went away for a minute there,” he asks as his concerned eyes gaze into yours. You nod your head and let him continue to keep his hand on your skin. You’ll let him keep it there for as long as he wants.

You smile up at him and nod in response. “I’m okay, was just thinking about something,” you say with a daze to your tone, somber eyes coming back down to earth.

“Was there something specific you were looking for?” you ask as his fingers continue to trace down your skin. It feels like complete magic that holds you under a spell.

“Not really. You see, I kinda have a fascination with history. You should see my study. I have hundreds of books and ancient artifacts that I’ve found in the sea. You’d love it,” he says with a crooked smile splayed against his face. It makes a dimple form deep in his cheek, and it nearly takes your breath away.

His study sounds a lot like the secret cave you have deep underwater that’s full of human treasures that you’d collected over the years from lost ships and things thrown overboard from wasteful humans. It’s a little sanctuary for you, a place you can go to clear your mind and wonder just what it’d be like to walk on land. What it’d be like to have your own pair of legs. But you love the sea so much, you don’t think you’d ever want to leave. But for him, you might just follow him anywhere.

You sigh as you lean into his touch, wishing you could see just what he’s talking about. “I wish I could see it,” you say quietly, eyes trailing back to his doe eyes as he speaks again.

“Maybe someday you will.” And it sounds like a promise, like he will show you one day. But how? You have a tail, you can’t walk. Your home is in the ocean, not on land. But if you could find a way to do both then you would. There had to be a way.

“Maybe,” you say dreamlike as you dream of warm sand on your feet, walking hand in hand with him on the beach. A distant wish you so wanted to be true. But it wasn’t, and you had to deal with that.

You stay there another moment letting his calloused fingers run along your jawline as you watch his eyes settle in on your face. Before you get lost for too long, you pull out of his reach and sink back into the cool water.

“I guess I should get you back to your boat,” you say sadly, eyes averting from his as to not dwell on the beautiful flecks of mixed browns that you want to get lost in again and again until you can’t see anything but them anymore.

“Yeah, guess so,” he says quietly, a voice that screams for you to stay, but you can’t. He doesn’t belong here.

“Wait here,” you say before you take off to retrieve his small wooden boat that’ll take him safely back to dry ground.

As you wade through the water you get a sick sense that this can only end badly, but it was too late. You were already in too deep, and you already wanted to see him again. This was bad, so bad.

You turn over the toppled boat and throw the rows back inside, pulling it along as you drag it back to him safely. You place it against the rock he sits on and watch him climb in, situating himself as he takes the rows in his hands. Before he heads back to his large boat, he stops and stares at you.

“Can I see you again?” he asks quietly as the cool breeze blows a tousled curl against his forehead. Without thinking you reach up and push it back into place, feeling just how soft his hair really feels. He lets you, and it feels as soft as velvety moss.

You drop your hand back down and before you can, he grabs your wrist and stares deeply into your eyes, eliciting a gasp out of your mouth as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. You let him keep you there until you give him a clear answer.

You think of your options, think of what you might be risking if you see him again. Would your sisters try to drown him again, would he try to steal you away from the sea, would your father find out that you were meddling in human affairs? All of the questions were valid and unknown, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You wanted to see him again, needed to.

“Yes. Tomorrow night,” you say without any hesitation.

He nods his head and smiles down at you as he gently lets his fingers fall from your skin as your hand splashes back down underneath the water.

“Tomorrow it is then. See you later, Sirena.” The nickname falls off his tongue like a sweet melody that fills your ears. Sirena, enchantress, siren.

You watch him row back to his boat, watching the way his biceps bulge every time he pulls back on the rows. He looks a little like your own Prince Charming. A sailor that had captured your heart, and you weren’t willing to take it back. It was his now, as long as he wanted it.

He looks back at you before climbing up the steep ladder. He smiles gently your way and nods before turning back to the ladder and climbing up, disappearing from your view as he makes his way below the deck.

You sigh and rest your elbow against the glossy rock he was just sitting on minutes ago, daydreaming about those dreamy brown eyes and his smile that knocks the breath out of your chest.

Scar circles back around and comes up beside you, nudging you with his large snout as you gently pet the top of his head. “I know, Scar. I know. I’m in so much trouble.”

You sink back underneath the water and follow him back home, back to the kingdom of Capri where you belong. But you keep your mind locked on those sweet, syrupy eyes that you so desperately want to see again.

Joel was going to be your undoing.

Tags: (Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged) @janaispunk @amyispxnk @princesatracionera @vividispunk @keylimebeag @pedroswife69 @littlevenicebitch69 @poeticbarnes @tuquoquebrute @awkwardprovocateur @ayamenimthiriel @everythingiwanttoread @burntheedges @hc-geralt-23 @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @vivian-pascal @untamedheart81 @laurrrra @dugiioh @blueseastorm @pedrostories @morallyinept @vvitchesh3x @frannyzooey

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akutasoda · 8 months

Text

together? together.

synopsis - you two continuously deny others who think you are together until you're not so sure yourself.

includes - dan heng, blade, sampo, natasha, jing yuan

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 616

dan heng ★↷

↪you and dan heng got along very well. not many understood how you had managed to befriend him but you had. and he trusted you alot and you trusted him. but sometimes to outsider's it seemed like you two were more than friends.

↪as sometimes when you were on the astral express with dan heng, someone - mainly march, would make a comment along the lines of if you two were just friends. and every time of you insited you were.

↪but sometimes one of you would think about it for a longer amount of time. are you both really just friends or do you both want to be something more?

'so are you absolutely sure you're not together?'

'i mean... not yet'

'what?'

blade ★↷

↪as a stellaron hunter you tried your best to maintain a healthy work relationship with your co workers. you had to work together anyway. but somewhere along the line to some peoples shock, you and blade seemed to get along quite well.

↪it was a slow friendship at first but you both often seeked out the other during down times in-between missions. which to kafka atleast seemed like something more, just none of you had made the move yet. so to blade's dismay everytime kafka saw you two she would subtly ask if anyone made a move yet.

↪each time was a no. until one day you started seeing what kafka saw, and couldn't help but wonder if maybe one day you would be something more.

sampo ★↷

↪the merchant was known for being overly friendly with everyone. but they were mainly supposed business partners or potential customers. so why would sampo be overly friendly witn you? someone who had no intrest in his schemes. probably because he classed you as an actual friend.

↪you had know the merchant for a while now and everytime he was in trouble he would seek out your residence and stay until the coast is clear. but this little habit made natasha question whether or not you two were just friends.

↪everytime you saw her she asked about and you just said he was just an annoying friend, nothing more. but maybe you were hoping for more.

natasha ★↷

↪you often came by natasha's clinic to offer her a helping hand with patients. you weren't as good as natasha but it did help reduce her workload quite significantly. and she really appreciated your help.

↪sometimes oleg would come round to discuss with natasha about various affair's, and he couldn't help but notice the look natasha held for you. so naturally he asked. but natasha denied it, you two were just friends and coworkers thats it. someone else had asked you as well about how you saw natasha and again you denied any kind of dating misinformation.

↪but sometimes you would catch natasha's stare or sometimes you would wish you had the confidence to ask her what you two were. but maybe one of you would make a move.

jing yuan ★↷

↪you had know the general for a long time. he held a lot of respect for you and vice versa. but over your time knowing jing yuan you met various other people aswell and all of them became slightly confused that you two were just friends.

↪for example, upon meeting tingyun for the first time she mistook you for lovers instead of friends. and had became suspicious of your dismissal and made sure to ask every single time. yanqing also developed this confusion with how mamy times you visited the general.

↪throughout all if this you wondered if you were just friends. and little did you know the general felt the same way. maybe eventually you would be more.

#x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #dan heng x reader #blade x reader #sampo x reader #natasha x reader #jing yuan x reader #x reader

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vertigoed · 10 months

Text

seasons | satoru gojo

all your life, you’ve lied but satoru knew the truth.

summary: fem!reader x richboy!satoru, childhood bestfriends, satoru is an aspiring start up entrepreneur, reader is in established relationship with toji and in lawschool (reader aged 22, satoru 24)

your friendship with satoru was strictly platonic. this was what you'd swore to everyone throughout most of your life, like a mantra playing on a broken record. that the son of the famous architect was like your older brother and that you'd rather die than see him as a man.

when you first met him, you were only 8 and he had just turned 10. his parents had recently gotten divorced, resulting in a moody satoru moving in next door, with his mom who dressed fancy and smoked a lot.

you were an extroverted child, a bit nosey and always wanting to befriend every kid you encountered. satoru, however, was the opposite. he exuded an air of shyness and snobbishness, often wrinkling his pointed nose in disdain at the things he found unamusing.

you didn't let that bother you and always knocked at his door, asking his mother if the boy can come out and play.

initially, his mom would have to drag him out, but eventually he started to warm up to you. he started to share his candy without you having to plead and some days, he'd shyly knock at your door to ask you to play.

despite satoru being older, he'd often be seen shadowing your every move, akin to a lost puppy, listening to your childish demands and playing the games that you liked.

once his voice dropped, he stopped being so obedient and started to boss you around, which of course led to many childish arguments. when you started to wear padded bras, a noticeable change occurred in satoru's behavior. he became increasingly awkward, abruptly getting up and leaving if you'd touch him the wrong way or avoiding your eyes if you wore something a bit revealing.

high school was rough for the both of you. girls either hated your guts or befriended you to solely get close to satoru. while satoru had to deal with his class mates oggling at you in the hallways and constantly being asked if he's 'done it' yet.

"y/n!"

you lifted your head from your arms, frowning in annoyance as you were just about to drift off to sleep. you tiredly watch sakura stroll over to you with a pink box in her hand.

"i was just about to sleep," you rolled your eyes, resting your chin on your hand with heavy lids.

you were barely surviving with just four hours of sleep as you stayed up all night cramming for an exam. you were in no mood to deal with sakura, already knowing what she wanted from you.

"can you give this to gojo senpai?" she hummed, placing the box on your desk, "and maybe invite him to my birthday party? of course, you need to come too-"

"do it yourself," you buried your face into the crook of your arms, hoping she'll take the hint to leave.

"please," she began to whine, crouching down next to you so she was at face level. you felt her gently shake your shoulder, "i'm too scared and you're like super close to him. just say it's from me-"

"ask shoko or suguru," you snapped.

you hated that all the girls in your grade expected you to be satoru's postman. it was almost a daily occurrence where you'd find chocolates and letters at your desk with his name labelled on it.

but one thing you hated more was when they would personally come up to you for a favour and beg until you gave in.

"but they're older and scaryyy.. please y/n."

"fine!" you groaned, cutting her off as you were unable to tolerate her pitched voice, "let me at least sleep until lunch is over."

"yay you're the best! love you!”

you could hear the girl get up and walk away, sliding the door shut behind her and finally leaving you alone in the classroom.

"she's such a rude bitch sometimes," sakura's loud voice echoed into the hallway.

"she thinks she's top shit just because she's friends with gojo senpai. but seriously, she's just his lackey don't you think so?" you heard another voice chime in and the girls all burst into laughter.

"yeah, she probably does his homework for him and wipe his ass or something because there's no way someone like gojo senpai would want to hang out..."

you felt your blood boil with anger, not necessarily at sakura, but more towards satoru. it was infuriating that people saw you as nothing more than just gojo satoru’s friend. you were sick of school feeling like his kingdom and you were some sort of side character who’s main purpose is to deliver gifts for the almighty gojo.

you look at the box wrapped in baby pink wrapping paper with a blue bow placed on top. "i'm his lackey?" you bitterly muttered to yourself, ripping the paper off.

it was a box of nama royce chocolate. you scoffed at sakura's stupidity of gifting food that was meant to be refrigerated. you scoffed down the chocolates, leaving the wrapping paper on your desk so sakura would notice.

coincidentally, you spot satoru's white hair walking past the room with shoko. you angrily sculled back some water to wash the chocolate down, before stomping out to chase your friend.

"satoru!” you take an airy breath before calling out to him.

he spun at the sound of your voice with a bright grin, his eyes trailing to the box in your hands .

"yo! another present for me?" he greeted you, blue eyes glistening with excitement, "are those nama chocolates? are they still cold-"

you stomped over and shoved the empty box into his hands, "they were cold," you lied (they were room temperature) "and really fucking delicious."

"you ate it?" he looked surprised, slowly opening the box to see it bare and looked back up with disappointment, "but they're not meant for you to eat..."

"from now on, i'm going to take a cut of your presents," you narrowed your eyes before turning to shoko who seemed to be entertained by the little scene, "hey shoko-"

"wait why are you mad at me?" satoru cuts you off and much to his annoyance, your eyes remained firmly on his friend and not him.

"it's annoying right?" shoko linked her arm with you, ignoring the taller boy, "i know exactly how you feel. before you joined this school, i had to put up with the same bullshit."

"people think i'm his lackey," you sulked, letting the older girl walk you down and leaving a confused satoru behind, "and they all think they can use me to get close to him, i'm so over it!"

"i know, we overheard those girls talk.... it's infuriating but don't let it get to you," shoko gave you a sympathetic smile, giving your arm a small squeeze in reassurance, "seriously, i don't know why people put that dumb ass on a pedestal. he's got a pretty head but it's just an accessory with nothing inside."

you laughed a little too hard at shoko's roast.

"i can hear you guys talk shit aboout me! and shoko can you tell y/n that i stood up for her to those-"

"don't worry, we'll be graduating soon so you won't have to deal with him any longer at school," shoko flashed you a grin.

following his high school graduation, satoru moved into one of his father's apartments in ginza as it was closer to his university.

despite him no longer being your neighbor, your friendship remained resolute. you would go over to his apartment almost daily after school, where you'd have a study session, then force him to buy you dinner. thanks to satoru's help, you graduated with grades good enough to get into law school.

things started to get rocky when you got into your first serious relationship at the age of 20.

the moment satoru somehow found out that your boyfriend was 37 with two kids, he lost his shit. he showed up to your door with an expression so dark, his voice so low and fraught with tension, that for the first time in your life, you felt a pang of fear within you.

"you just turning fucking 20 and you're whoring out for a guy who's almost double your fucking age?" he hissed, an unmistakable scent of alcohol lingered heavily on his breath.

"w-what? how did you find out?" you freeze at the door, slightly too frightened to move.

you purposely kept your relationship with toji fushiguro a secret as you were afraid of satoru judgement. you didn't expect him to be this upset though.

he pushed past you to let himself in. "does that matter?" satoru raised his voice. you couldn't tell if he was disappointed or disgusted. "are you with him for money? because you know i can take care of you, you just need to let me know!"

you shook your head, unable to find your voice as satoru was partially correct. money played a big part in your relationship with toji but he didn't have to know that. you bit your lip, sucking in your teeth, "money has nothing to do with this," you lied.

his brows knit into a tight scowl, "so you genuinely like that old fucker?"

"i-i," you tried to think of words to say. "you haven't even met him, he's really nice-"

"he's 16 years older than you!" his fist slams against the table, causing you to flinch in shock. his face softened, immediately regretting his outburst, "i'm sorry.”

"i'm not a kid," you spoke quietly, taking the seat next to him at the table, "i-i get why it may seem wrong but he cares for me and i'm sorry i didn't tell you. it's only been a couple months-"

"so you want to be a step mom at 20?" he said, letting out a humorless laugh, "you're in law school and you want to waste your time dating a old geezer who's got two fucking kids?"

you couldn't look at him in the eyes and kept your gaze firmly on your lap. having two kids was last of toji's issues. the man owned several clubs across roppongi and shibuya where he money laundered billions, as well as hosting highly illegal, drug infested parties for japan's top 1%.

toji getting caught was near impossible due to his connections with the law enforcement. but you were still afraid of the possible consequences of being a criminal's girlfriend and what it may do to your future career. you knew satoru had every right to be worried.

"stop being like this satoru," you let out a shaky sigh, "j-just stop caring so much."

"oh my god y/n," he groaned into his hands before tugging at his white strands in frustration, "you're fucking killing me here. how do you expect me to not care when it's you?"

"look i get it. i'm like your younger sister and obviously you'd be protective-"

your breath hitched as satoru moved at lightning speed, pressing his lips against yours. he was too quick for your mind to process what was going on as your eyes remained wide open.

it was a blur of dizzying heat, your stomach doing somersaults in a panicked, frenzy mode as your brain was screaming for you to do something- anything.

"are you okay?!" you pushed him off, your heart pounding violently against your chest and blood rush through you in a way it shouldn't.

you couldn't understand why your stomach was swarming with monstrous butterflies and your legs felt like custard. you should be repulsed, not nervous.

"no, just trying to make a point that you're not my sister," his mouth settled somewhere between a smile and a frown as his icy blue eyes bored into you.

he swiftly leaned into you again and cupped your cheek, his touch causing your breath to hitch. " you should be with me instead,” his voice barley above a whisper.

your eyes were almost bursting out your head as you stared back in disbelief, it had to be the alcohol talking.

and for the first time in your life, you felt yourself weak before his famous blue eyes that everyone seemed to swoon for. your heart fluttered and your eyes trail down to his soft lips. that kiss felt like a fever dream, you wanted to feel it again so badly...

wait, what the fuck is wrong with me?!

"you're wasted," you snapped out of the trance, breaking eye contact, “w-we should talk about this when you’re sober."

"what does he have that i don't?" he spoke calmly, his cold fingers digging into your cheek, ”besides fucking kids? was the kiss that awful?"

you pulled his hands off you, still feeling his blue orbs burning into you as you defensively cross your arms. objectively speaking, it wasn't like he was lacking in any way, if anything he was a perfect boyfriend candidate. but your friendship with him was also perfect- so perfect that you were terrified of ruining it.

your mouth opens and shuts, caught in the grip of uncertainty as your mind battled itself. you couldn't bring yourself to admit the unexpected allure of his lips- you just weren't prepared to acknowledge that truth yet.

“i'm with toji," you said softly, lowering your eyes, "i think you had too much to drink tonight, you need to leave."

his face dropped and it was like all the lights in his eyes went dim. with his shoulders slouched, he shoots you a fleeting look before leaving without another word. you found yourself tossing and turning all night, unable to close as your eyes as the hurt look he flashed upon you was etched into your memory,

the next morning, satoru acted like the kiss never happened so you followed suit and tried to forget it- after all, he was drunk so he probably blacked out.

the day you realised you loved satoru as more than just a friend, you were a few years too late.

"you're dating rumi yoshimoto?" the words escaped your lips louder than intended, causing a few heads to turn in the cafe. your face heats up in embarrassment and you try to relax your composure, "-is this why you asked to meet up?"

this was your first time seeing satoru in a couple months so when he asked to meet up at a cafe, you were bursting with excitement, even putting on some makeup before leaving the house. your shoulders deflate in disappointment and your stomach felt as if you've been punched in the guts.

"yeah," he nodded, looking up from his hot chocolate, "it only happened last week."

words failed you in that moment as a mixture of contradicting feelings wash over you. you should be happy for him, or at least be curious about the details. so why did you feel a sickening sense of jealousy?

it made sense for satoru and rumi to be together. they had been friends since college; she worked under him at his startup tech company and they were both attractive and available. on the other hand, you were already in a three-year-long relationship with no right to be salty.

"wow, this is the first time you've even spoken to me about another girl," you tried to sound nonchalant, but your stomach churned. you take a long sip of you drink to wash down the tightness of your throat, "i never even thought you'd be interested in rumi."

satoru's love life had been virtually non-existent- or so you thought- aside from a few casual one night stands in the past that he never bothered to discuss with you. you'd try to get him to talk about the few girls he hooked up with, but he'd scrunch his nose in disgust in response.

he had thousands of beautiful girls at his feet, yet he'd claim nobody was good enough for him. rumi was the last woman you thought would be good enough for gojo satoru.

"i guess i only started liking her a few weeks ago."

you shift uncomfortably at the thought of satoru and rumi dating. act normal. why are you being such a weirdo? you silently scold yourself,.

you take a small breath and force the corners of your mouth into a smile. "h-how did it start?" you kept your attention on your melon soda, stirring it with the straw, "who confessed to who first?"

"she asked me out then i told her to give me a couple weeks to think about it," he leaned back in his seat to stretch out his long arms as he yawned, clearly showing that this conversation was boring him. you couldn't help but admire the cords of muscle in his thick forearms bulge with each flex of movement, "but, anyway that's me. how's your life been?"

"huh?" you blinked, breaking your gaze away from his body and hastily divert your attention elsewhere. you prayed he didn't see you checking him out. "oh um, good. i finished my exams so i'm done for the year and uh... going on a trip in a few weeks."

"to where?"

"europe," you gulped, stirring the ice cream into the green drink.

satoru kept quiet. he didn't even have to ask who you were going with. toji fushiguro had become the forbidden topic between you two.

"rumi huh?" you take a tip out of your drink, hastily changing the subject to break the tension, "how long did she have feelings for you?"

you've only met rumi a handful of times but it was enough to get a slight feeling that she had a crush on satoru, as you noticed her lingering stares on him whenever you met her at one of his parties.

"she said since freshman year in college, so six years or so," he shrugged, "i don't know how i feel about dating someone who works under me though."

you wanted to tell him it's a horrible idea, that rumi could never match his energy and he should break it off. you bite your cheek. you should be supportive and play the best friend role like you're supposed to.

"love can grow over time," you gulped, fiddling with the hem of your sweater underneath the table, "just give it a chance."

you were burning with self hatred at that moment. you coulnd't understand why you were so bummed out by this, why it was so upsetting that-

“i wish you'd stop me."

a baby started screaming on top of their lungs simultaneously as he spoke. you furrowed your brows, leaning in, “huh?”

you weren't sure if you just misheard but did he just say? no, you must've misheard.

“nothing, i said let's go,” he looked away and got up, “i'll pay."

you follow the six foot four man outside, the cold winter air brushing against your skin, causing you to shiver and tighten the scarf around your neck. you watched how satoru walked with confidence, head held high and ignoring every head that turned to admire the model like man.

"let me drive you home," he turned to you, "i parked a few blocks down."

"okay," you nodded, quickening your pace to close the gap between you two, "so, how's the business going?"

"good," he answered, "i've got a meeting with an investor next week."

you get into his sleek black mclaren, buckling yourself as he started up the engine. "do you mind if we drop by the office on the way to yours? just need to grab my laptop," he said, resting his hand behind your head rest as he reversed out.

“i don’t mind,” you answered, playing with the rings on your finger as you looked out the tinted windows.

your mind drifts off to the night satoru kissed you. even three years later, you frequently thought about it. you always questioned if it was fueled by the alcohol or genuine feelings; wondering what would’ve happened happened if you kissed him back and what if you didn't push him away- would you have left toji and be his girlfriend instead of rumi?

truth be told, you weren't even certain how you felt towards satoru at this stage. the thought of being in a relationship with him terrified you. you were never a believer in true love and rather believed in statistics that proved 70% of relationships fail in the first year.

you simply loved him too much so you didn’t want to risk possibly losing your friendship over a relationship that was bound to fail.

satoru pulls into the parking lot of his office that was tucked in between a diner and a vintage records shop. satoru’s office was location on the top floor of the 50 storey building that his father owned and the rest of the building was shared with other businesses.

you raised a brow when you saw rumi's car was also parked. you casually announced that you'll follow him in.

"i’ll try to be quick, ten minutes max," satoru turned to you in the elevator as you smoothed down your hair.

"yeah, that's fine," you shrugged, checking your reflection in the mirror.

satoru's stare lingers on you, breaking off when the elevator door opens, revealing the woman you were hoping to see. your eyes trail down to her outfit, a tight midi skirt and cream colored turtleneck.

"h-hey guys!" rumi's voice was pitched, clearly surprised to see you, "what are you doing here?"

her usual black hair was curled into loose waves and she wasn't wearing her thick rimmed glasses that hid her features. she looked pretty and you hated that.

"hey, i'm just getting my laptop," the arctic haired man greets the girl, oblivious to her stunned reaction.

you knew rumi never liked you- or at least, was uncomfortable around you- but, you didn't mind that, especially in times like this, watching her squirm bought you satisfaction.

"hey rumi, congrats on the new relationship!" you chirped brightly at the taller woman, a wide smile plastered on your face, "i'm guessing that's why you're all dressed up?"

satoru shoots rumi a cursory glance without much expression.

"oh... s-satoru already told you," she stuttered, looking at her new boyfriend, who was oblivious to her tone with her lips pressed into a tight smile.

"well, i'm going to be in the office, text me when you get home," the tall man gives his girlfriend another fleeting look before leaving his defenseless girlfriend to your antics.

the dark haired woman wrapped her arms around herself, shifting uncomfortably in her boots, "s-so what are you guys doing after?"

"oh us?" your tone was causal and light, "we're probably going to chill at mine."

rumi's face goes pale and you notice her jaw clench ever so slightly. you laugh and give her a light slap on the shoulder, "what's with the face! don't worry, it's nothing like that," you giggled.

poor rumi start to laugh with you, although she didn't know what was so funny. rumi swallowed her discomfort. after all, you're satoru's childhood friend, practically family and she'd only started dating him a week ago.

"i'm not worried," rumi plastered a smile, meeting your eyes.

well you should be, you think to yourself but instead, you smile back at her. "oh by the way," you lowered your voice, "you got like food stuck in your teeth, must've been from lunch."

you gesture at the left side of your mouth, your lips curled into a faint smirk. rumi turns her head down to the floor and pressed the elevator button to go down, muttering a goodbye to you.

did you feel like immature? yes but what could you do when all you could see is green?

you give the door a quick knock before stepping into the office. satoru was busily typing away at his laptop, not even bothering to acknowledge you.

you walked over to his chair to peek over his shoulder, scrunching your nose at all the complicated coding stuff. you sat yourself on the massive couch facing the french windows.

one prominent feature of the's office was the wall made entirely of glass stretching from floor to ceiling, showing a panoramic view of lively shinjuku below. the sun was setting, casting a gorgeous hue of purple and red over the cityscape of towering buildings with glistening lights and billboards. no matter how many times you've visited his work place, you couldn't get over this sight.

you then tried to focus on your phone, mindlessly scrolling in between apps. a fan edit of satoru's high school photos showed up on your tiktok feed, your lips twitch into a wistful smile as you reminisce on your youth.

back then, people expected him to become an athlete or a professional mma fighter due to his innate atheletic talents. nobody expected him to enroll in computer science and all thought he was wasting his gift.

little did they know satoru also happened to be a coding genius. at the age of 20, he was making headlines in the tech industry, labelled as the gen z mark zukerberg. tiktok and twitter soon found out about gojo satoru, which led to him becoming an online sensation with millions of fans thirsting over him.

your eyes float over to your friend. you were still in disbelief that satoru was finally in his first relationship at the age of 24. as stupid as this may sound, but you never thought this day would come- well not this quick anyway.

"i can feel you staring at me," he broke off your chain of thoughts, catching you off guard. your face heats up in embarrassment and you hastily avert your gaze away. he stood from his seat as he packed his laptop into his bag, "what did i do?"

"nothing," you shook your head as you got up from the couch.

suddenly, you heard satoru's stomach grumble. "i cooked pasta for lunch, do you want some?" you asked as you wait for the elevator.

you bit your lip, watching the flicker of surprise crosses his eyes as he hesitate to answer.

"yeah alright." satoru brushed off the slight prick in his moral compass, telling himself there was no harm in just going over to a friend's apartment for dinner.

so when rumi texted him asking him what he was doing later that night, he lied and replied saying he was at suguru's apartment. when in reality, he was sitting on your couch, lighting up a blunt, with you sitting comfortably close.

he tried to ignore his conscientious side nagging him that this was wrong. not because you're a woman.

but, because it was you. the one who made his heart race whenever your skin brushed against his. only you could turn him on just by your scent or the way you looked up at him with glistening eyes. only you could get him hard by innocently bending over to pick up the fallen remote.

it was you that he was alone with while he's in a committed relationship, which was why he had to leave.

"i have to go," he took an airy breath, standing up from the sofa without a glance.

he never thought of himself as a good guy. in fact he’s done plenty of morally questionable things in the past. but he knew he wasn't going to let himself become a cheater like his father.

"what, why?" you get up as well, following him to the door as he hurriedly shrugged his jacket on.

you grabbed his wrist so he'd face you but his 6'4 frame wouldn't budge.

"i-i shouldn't be doing this," he said with a stoic expression.

"why? we're just watching a movie," you were beyond confused as he was laughing at the movie ten minutes ago. you racked you brain, trying to think what you did wrong that could've upset him so much.

satoru pulled out of your grip and seemed to hesitate to say something before shaking his head and letting out an exasperated sigh, "i'll text you," he murmured, before closing the door behind him.

you don't notice the tears pooling down your eyes, lips quivering as your knees dropped you to the floor. you were only watching a movie with him, something you've done a million times with him. it hurt to know things were going to change from now. you felt pathetic, wallowing like this in self pity and regret.

you wished you didn't care so much and that you could be happy for them. it wasn't like you could rewind the time and change the past, but still, you desperately wished you could take back those words you said.

you thought back to all the times satoru had cared for you, in a way nobody had before. he was never the type of person to verbally express his love, instead showed it everyday with abundance.

satoru was the type to remember you complaining about your headphones being uncomfortable and casually get you a new pair the next day, under the guise that he accidentally bought himself two sets.

there was a phase in high school when you and satoru would often have petty arguments and you'd act like a total brat to him, your teenage hormones fueling your emotions to hurl hurtful insults. surprisingly though, satoru would still drive you to school the next day, albeit, it was always a silent car ride as he still held a grudge against you.

he knew every detail about you and sometimes you felt like he knew you better than yourself. he kept you grounded, always pushing you to be better. even when he was drowning in college exams, he'd still make time to tutor you and helped you keep in track with your studies, knowing you lacked self discipline and would procrastinate if he didn't do so.

when your grandmother passed away, he wasn't sure what to say to comfort you- instead, he cried with you and stayed until you were okay. with satoru by your side, you never once felt alone. it was no secret that you loved satoru but it was daunting to finally realise how deep it was.

was this how satoru felt when he found out about toji?

i didnt proof read this but yay thank u if u read this far.

(reader is so messy ik )

#gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru fluff #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic

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