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dixons-sunshine · 2 days

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I'm not even gonna put this as anon like I usually do with requests because I just can't be bothered to- Could you do Daryl making a stressed out reader slow down because she's running herself ragged and needs some downtime? Fluffy all the way.

Reader really is me right now lol

Spa Day | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With the walls needing to be rebuilt, runs needing to be made and crops needing to be planted, it was safe to say that you were at your wit's end. However, things needed to get done, causing you to get overstressed. Luckily Daryl was there to help you slow down and relax.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Mentions of exhaustion.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: My migraine finally subsided enough for me to focus on finishing this. This was a really cute idea and I hope I did it justice. I hope you like this! (Forgot to tag you in this 😅 I was so tired when I posted this. @celtic-crossbow)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The scorching afternoon sun was relentlessly beating down on the people of Alexandria. The inhabitants of the safe zone were restlessly working to fortify the fallen walls to ensure that the community remained impenetrable from the the dead wanting to find their next meals.

However, none of them were working themselves to the bone quite like you were. And Daryl was starting to get fed up with your antics.

Daryl grumbled to himself in frustration as he leaned on the car he was busy fixing up, watching as you walked past him in a hurry for the hundredth time that day, occupied with yet another task that somebody else probably could've handled on their own. However, with you being you, he knew that you offered to take someone's job for them so that they could relax and get out of the blazing summer sun, all at your own expense. Everyone else was enjoying their day while you ran around like a headless chicken.

Your caring, helpful and selfless nature was something that the archer loved about you. Despite the horrors in the world, of everything you've seen and experienced, you managed to clutch on to your humanity and keep it locked safely in your being, like a vault. However, on that particular day, he wished so badly that you'd just be selfish and take the day to slow down and unwind, maybe get some much deserved sleep. You were awake even earlier than he was lately, and went to bed way later than almost everyone, so he knew there was no way you were going to last if you kept this up. It seemed to him like it would be his duty to pull you away and force you into your home to relax.

He's officially had enough of your stubbornness. You were going to relax, whether he had to drag you home or not.

He hurried after you, calling your name. You stopped when you heard his voice, turning around to look at your partner. You sent him a smile and called back to him. “Can't talk right now! I have to go help Denise restock the infirmary!”

You turned around and started to stalk off towards the infirmary, but you were stopped in your tracks when Daryl grabbed your wrist and spun you around. You looked up at him in surprise, observing the determined look the archer had in his eyes.

“Daryl, what—”

“Nah, ya ain't goin' nowhere,” he told you matter-of-factly, moving his hand from your arm to hold your hand in his. He looked to the side and saw Aaron walking somewhere with Eric. “Hey, Aaron, Eric! Would ya mind helpin' Denise with restockin' the infirmary? She can't do it alone.”

Aaron smiled and nodded. “Sure! We were just heading that way anyways.”

Before you could start to protest, Daryl started pulling you with him, leading you towards the house. That didn't stop you from trying to resist, however. The need to help everyone, even if they didn't need it, ran deep in you, and you hated that your responsibility was now pushed onto someone else.

“Daryl, what are you doing?” you questioned, sending your partner an incredulous look. “I should be helping Denise. Aaron and Eric were relaxing today. They shouldn't have to tire themselves out.”

“And neither should ya,” Daryl stated, pushing inside your small home and closing the door behind you. “Dun' think I haven't noticed ya overworkin' yerself. Takin' on extra guard duty, workin' day and nigh' to fortify the walls and helpin' Maggie with the crops when she has 'nough people helpin' her already. Yer outta here earlier and earlier each day and gettin' home later each nigh'. Ya deserve to relax, too. And I dun' wanna hear any complaints.”

You couldn't help the smile that spread over your face. Your heart swelled with love for the man before you. Never before in your life had you been with a man quite as amazing as Daryl. None of your previous partners would even have realized that you were working yourself down to the bone. You were extremely lucky to have the archer in your life.

“Okay, Mr Dixon,” you started playfully, sending him a teasing smile. “What do you want me to do first on this relaxation journey you seem to have planned for me?”

Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. “Go take a shower and get changed into somethin' more comfortable. I'll get started on makin' us somethin' to eat.”

Following his instructions, you headed up the stairs. A few minutes later, Daryl could hear the shower turn on and he inwardly celebrated his victory. You were actually listening to him. You were actually going to relax for the first time in weeks. If he had known that him voicing his concern would get you to start slowing down, he would've done it a while ago.

Working like a man on a mission, he quickly grabbed some pillows and blankets from one of the cupboards and made a comfortable place for you to relax on the couch before moving to the kitchen. Grabbing a few things he needed from the cupboards, he made good on his promise and started preparing a simple snack for the both of you—some omelettes.

In no time at all, you were done in the shower. You got dressed in a pair of freshly washed flannel pants and one of Daryl's shirts and made your way down to the kitchen. However, the sight that met you had you stilling in your tracks—Daryl was busy dishing up the omelettes, a glass of wine for each of you next to the plates.

“Well, this is a sight I could get used to,” you voiced, making the archer turn to face you, pan still in his hand.

He shot you a small smile before handing you a glass of wine, ushering you out of the kitchen. “Go on and get settled on the couch. I'll be right there.”

Accepting the glass of wine, you nodded and headed to the living room, pleasantly surprised to see the blankets and pillows set up on the couch. You did as you were instructed and sat down on the couch, covering your legs and lap with one of the blankets. You were slowly sipping on your wine, waiting for Daryl to join you.

As if being summoned by your mere thoughts, Daryl appeared in the living room, balancing two plates in his hands. He placed one of the plates in your lap before placing his own on the coffee table, moving to grab something from his bag that was resting near the fire place. When he turned around, you audibly gasped in surprise at the object in his hand, placing your glass of wine and plate on the table.

“Where'd you get nail polish?” you questioned excitedly, sitting up straighter to allow Daryl to sit next to you.

“Rosita found some on a run a few days ago,” he explained, sitting down on the couch and gently taking one of your hands. “She didn't like this colour and asked me to give it to ya. I forgot 'bout it until now. Figured I'd paint yer nails and turn this day into a spa day of sorts.”

You smiled fondly at the archer, watching as he placed your hand flat on his leg and opened up the bottle. “You know you don't have to do this, right?”

“I want to,” he replied easily, carefully applying the nail polish to your nails. “Ya've been overworkin' yerself lately. Jus' let me take care of ya, alrigh'?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

The next few minutes was spent in a comfortable silence. Daryl was surprisingly good at applying the nail polish, making little to no mistakes whatsoever. In no time at all, your nails were done, and Daryl motioned for you to turn around. You did so, and practically moaned in relief when Daryl's hands started gently massaging your shoulders. His hands were expertly working at the knots that had formed on your shoulders, transferring you to a state of bliss.

“That feels really good,” you mumbled, closing your eyes at the heavenly feeling.

“Yeah?” Daryl smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade before resuming his actions. “Told ya tha' ya were overworkin' yerself. Ya deserve this.”

You let out a groan of satisfaction, enjoying the feeling of Daryl's big, callused hands working at the painful knots. You were in heaven at that moment. Not only did Daryl make you food, he poured you a glass of wine, made you a comfortable spot on the couch, painted your nails and now he was giving you a massage. You truly believed that no man could ever compare to the man you had the lucky privilege of calling yours.

“I love you,” you whispered almost inaudibly, but loud enough for Daryl to catch.

Daryl smiled softly. “I love ya too,” he replied, pressing another gentle kiss to your shoulder blade before withdrawing. “Now lay flat on yer stomach. S'time to get workin' on yer back now.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied playfully, slowly flipping over to lay on your stomach.

“Good girl.”

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mionemymind · 3 days

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To Be Loved Is To Be Considered

Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship

A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.

On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.

Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.

Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.

And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.

Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.

So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.

Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.

Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.

So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.

The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.

It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.

“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”

As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.

“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.

“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.

“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.

“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.

“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.

“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.

So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”

Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.

“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.

“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.

Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’

She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.

Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.

“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.

“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.

“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.

“I hope you like the color.”

“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.

“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”

“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.

“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”

“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.

As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.

In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.

“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.

Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”

“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.

While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.

Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.

Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.

Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #Girlfriend!Reader x Wanda Maximoff #established relationship #Girlfriend!Reader #fluff #To Be Loved Is To Be Considered #mionemymind #wanda maximoff #marvel

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mammomlette · 2 days

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OBEY ME OLDER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

Includes: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, GN! Reader/MC, possible cringe

Notes: This is literally my first ever fan fic I’ve published (if head cannons count as fan fics lmao) so apologies for any mistakes or weird formatting! Constructive criticism is more than welcome, I’m ASKING for it if you have any🙏

Alsoo they just kept getting longer and longer, I don’t know why and I’ve gone through lucifers to try and make it longer but I just can’t so sorry😭

LUCIFER: you can’t see their eye colour until you meet them.

* It wasn’t really that bad, being unable to see red.

* Being unable to see the colour of your blood as it oozed out of a cut wasn’t really that bad, even if it just looked like grey tar pouring out instead which is equally gross

* It wasn’t really that bad to just never be able to see a single colour, everyone had to put up with it at some point

* But it was sad how rose bouquets always looked dull, and how hearts would always be grey

* It was sad how you couldn’t just imagine up a new colour to fill the void that not being able to see red left

* You knew that the colour you couldn’t see was called red, and you could learn as much as you’d like about it but that didn’t meant you could imagine it let alone see it for yourself

* Not until you were teleported into a large, court-like room one day

* You looked up from whatever you were doing and stared up at the man who had begun to cheerfully talk in front of you. His hair was that familiar gray that you recognised as red

* He introduced you to your situation and the school, and in your panic your eyes darted across the room

* Then, you suddenly made eye contact with a man in a dark coat, hair a matching colour and eyes that were also a dark colour

* but a new dark colour

* Not that gray you had been familiar with your whole life, but a fierce mix of orange and pink, the way the colour red had been described to you your entire life

* You saw through your periphery some orniments on the wall and the previous man’s hair and jacket come to life with colour, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the dark haired man before you

* He had frozen, just like you, afraid to blink, afraid that he’d lose this enticing new colour again after missing it for so long if he were to let it go for less than a second

* When he finally looked away, he saw how different decorations in the room that had previously been gray lit up with the colour of your eyes, the world never seeming so alive in all the thousands of years of his life as they did in that moment

* For the first time in his incredibly long life, he saw the beauty that was your eyes and all the beauty they brought with them.

MAMMON: the red string of fate.

* Your entire life you had been accompanied by that obnoxious red string.

* Whenever you glanced down to your non-dominant hand, the first thing you noticed was the red string all tangled up and wrapped around your hand

* Sometimes you’d get bored and tie nots in it or rest it on a surface and pull it to make shapes, but as soon as you took your attention away from it it’d return to normal, pointing in the direction of your soulmate

* And for some reason, the direction would always be down

* Not always directly down, sometimes diagonal, but it always managed to go into the ground.

* Was your soulmate miner or something???

* You had tried and tried countless times to follow it, going into basements and even considering going cave exploring in case your soulmate was some kind of cave creature trapped down there

* There was even a time you considered that they could be in hell, because where else could they be that’s so low down?!

* You had grown to hate it, the way it would taunt you and while it showed your friends their soulmates, it just showed you the dirt on the ground

* Hopes of finding your soulmate and curiosity to where they could be grew into despair, concluding that your soulmate was either a mole person or dead

* Both results meant that you’d never meet them and would forever be tormented by that hideous, obnoxious, torturous red string that was eternally tied to your ring finger

* You were waiting in a lobby for a job interview when you suddenly popped into the devildom

* A man was happily introducing you to the courtroom(?) and all of the people sat inside of it

* There was a man named Lucifer, followed by his younger brothers, all of which noticeably sharing names with demons. This place was called the Devildom, they’re demons, is this hell?Someone must be pulling your leg or something, right?!?!

* You were cut of from your thoughts by the dark haired man- Lucifer- telling you to call his younger brother.

* You hesitantly took the phone-like device called a ‘DDD’ from Lucifer’s hands and dialed the number you were told to, fidgeting with the string on your ring finger that nobody else could see

* You waited for Lucifer’s younger brother, Mammon, to show up, still fiddling with the string, when you felt a sudden jolt on the string

* You looked down, to see the string moving slightly, left to right to slightly up, and noticed that it was no longer going into the ground. It was right at the doorway to the room.

* A man stormed into the room, immediately charging in your direction and shouting about your ‘nerve’ to summon ‘the great Mammon’

* Safe to say the shouting died down when he took a look at your hand and noticed how your strings were connected

* Awkward silence filled the air until it was interrupted by the Avatar of Lust, cooing at the situation when he put two and two together and realised what was going on

* You were too focused on the red string connecting you to his hand to noticed the red slowly covering mammons face

* Internally, you laughed. Of course you found your soulmate in Hell.

LEVIATHAN: you make choices for your soulmate.

* You woke up to the sun shining through your curtains. Your soulmate, for whatever reason, didn’t allow you to shut your blinds. He didn’t even decline it, just left it on read.

* Why did you even have to request to do something so mundane?!

* Your soulmate forgetting to respond to your requests was a common occurrence, usually in the morning, but any time could be victim to your soulmates negligence to your requests.

* You went downstairs and opened your fridge and grabbed the first thing you saw: a pancake filled with red bean paste, in a box labeled ‘Azuki-tan, cute companion!’

* You had zero clue what that meant, you just remembered seeing it for sale at a grocery store a couple days ago

* Again, you had to send a request to your soulmate over whether you could eat this or not.

* Almost immediately, it was accepted. You didn’t really stop to think about the fast reaction time to the request, just thankful this wasn’t another ignored request

* Just as you were about to put it into your mouth, you were teleported to a large room that resembled a court room and contained a lot of chairs and 6 scary-looking men

* You kind of zoned out for most of that discussion until you started asking questions, but safe to say the pancake was forgotten, still in your hand.

* You made your way to where you would be staying with the demon assigned to look after you, Mammon, when a request from your soulmate popped up:

* ‘Soulmate would like to: Ask his brother for his money back.’

* You accepted, wondering what harm could be done, and entered the building with Mammon.

* You were just chatting with the white haired boy when all of a sudden a boy with purple hair started yelling at him “How about this? I vote for YOU to die, Mammon!”

* They started to yell at each other about money, which you found to be an odd coincidence. Would this even be considered as asking for money though? It’s more like bullying.

* You watched the argument unfold and brought the pancake to your mouth, about to take a bite, when the purple haired boy froze and stared at you, which made you stand there awkwardly with your mouth about to bite into the pancake for a few seconds waiting for him to say something

* “Is that Azuki-tan?!”

* “Umm… I think that was on the packaging… why?”

* Very awkward. Oh look, a request!

* ‘Soulmate would like to geek-out about Azuki-Tan and The Magical Ruri Hana: Demon Girl franchise.’ You accepted. How random.

* You had no time to ponder the randomness of the request because the purple haired boy, Levi as Mammon had introduced him, began to spout random nonsense about the pancake? No, a girl called ruri hana- wait no, now he’s going on about voice acting- who’s that voice actor?- wait what show is he going on about now?!?! You really wanted to tell this guy to slow down or shut up!

* He paused for a quick moment and pressed a button in the air, continuing with his tangent when you yelled at him to just slow down!

* He paused. He stared into your soul. He looked like he was rebooting, or something.

* “You’re my soulmate?” He said, voice shaky. You asked him what he meant, and he just started going on a rant about an anime where this very thing happened and- he’s off topic again, he’s going a mile a minute! You asked the voice in your head ‘can I please tell him to shut up?!’

* He stopped and stared at you, now yelling how you were asking him to shut up and how rude than was!

* Oh shit. He’s right? He’s your soulmate? And you just asked your soulmate to shut up the annoying guy in front of you?? Whew boy.

* You awkwardly mutter apologies to eachother, flustered, both the pancake and his older brother forgotten.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me solmare #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me x reader #x reader #btw the reason Levi was forgetting to respond to the requests esp in the morning is because #he was busy gaming or slept in😞 I didn’t make that clear soz #I’ll make the younger brothers tomorrow probs #constructive critism welcome

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pb524830 · 2 days

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right where you left me

part: 2 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.7k c/w: mention of blood, language a/n: hey guyssss here is part two enjoy it i love you ALL!! live reactions in my inbox => ALWAYS welcome!

I wait a beat, processing. “What… did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Us?” I demand. “Who is us?”

Paige moves her hands between the two of us exasperatedly. “Bro. You and me. Us.”

“We haven’t been an us in three years, Bueckers.”

“I know that. I know that. I just-” She lets out a huge sigh. “I miss you, bro.”

I truly can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Not that I try. But still.

“What is funny?” She demands.

I bend over, bracing my hands on my knees. And I cackle.

“You miss me?!” I howl, clutching my sides. “Oh, that’s good. Now you miss me, okay.”

“Good to know you’re still a crazy bitch.”

“Good to know you’re still fucking stupid,” I shoot back, wiping at my eyes. Her eyes widen and I can feel a retort on the tip of her tongue, because despite everything - I know her. I cut her off before she can say a word.

“What did you think was gonna happen, Paige? You were gonna come knock on my door in the middle of the night like a fucking Taylor Swift song, and tell me you miss me, and then what? Huh? I was gonna- what, kiss you under the stars? Tell you you’re the love of my life and of course I’ll take you back?” I sneer.

She clicks her tongue irritatedly, not unaccustomed to my rants. “It’s not even like that, dude.”

My eyebrows raise again. “Oh? What is it like, then, Paige? Do tell,” I snark, crossing my arms.

“I just miss… I don’t know, being around you? Like, I hate how awkward things are between us now.”

“That’s your own damn fault.”

“Yes! Okay! It’s my fault, I get it, and I’m sorry-”

“Which part are you sorry for, Paige?” I demand. “The part where you convinced me to not only cheat on my girlfriend, but also break up with her to be with you? Or maybe it’s the part where you swore we’d be together and we’d make long distance work because, really, Michigan and Connecticut aren’t that far. No, maybe it was the part where you dumped me after I came out to my family for you because you wanted to fuck other people?” My voice is rising, and I’m stepping closer to her. We’re nearly chest to chest when I finish speaking

She searches my eyes. I don’t miss the way her gaze lingers on my lips, and suddenly there’s goosebumps all down my arms and I’m conscious of the tank top I’m wearing. “All of it. Everything. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to,” she says quietly.

I search her eyes back, my lip curling. “Cop out. Fucking cop out. You’re a coward. You were a coward then, and you’re a coward now. Go home, Paige.” I turn to walk away from her, but her hand lands in the crook of my elbow.

My knees nearly buckle. It had always been like this. Her touch had always had the power to make me crumble, and it shudders through me even now.

“Maya-” she starts.

I shake her off. “I said fuck off.”

***************

“It’s Juilliard.”

“Well, open it.”

“I can’t”

Paige sighs, coming to crouch down next to me at my desk, lacing her fingers with mine. “Mai. I’m right here. No matter what happens, it will be fine.” I scoff at her. “That’s so easy for you to say. You’ve been committed to your dream school for almost a year.” Her face softens, blue eyes trained on mine. “You’re fucking incredible, dude. Any school who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. No matter what happens when you open that letter, you’re still a badass. It’ll be okay.”

I squeeze her hand, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re right,” I say, mostly trying to convince myself. Paige places a kiss against our clasped hands and I ignore the shudder it sends through me. It’s too domestic, too intimate, and this is probably a moment I should be sharing with my actual girlfriend. “Come on. You can do it.”

I login to my admissions portal, click to view my decision and shut my eyes tight, waiting for it to load.

I hear Paige breathe next to sharply, and I open my eyes, blinking.

Dear Ms. Jacobs,

We regret to inform you…

I can’t read the rest of it. My eyes blur with tears, and sob claws its way up my throat.

I wasn’t good enough. All that work, the sweat, the tears, the hours spent in the studio - fuck all of it, because I wasn’t good enough.

“Maya,” Paige whispers. My bottom lip quivers, and the tears slip down my face. They land on the back of Paige’s hand in my lap. “Maya, baby,” she tries again, and I shake my head. My breath shudders out, and the tears are falling faster and faster now. I shake my head more indignantly, slamming my laptop shut.

A sob forces itself out of my mouth, and I bring a shaking hand to my mouth. Then the tears are really falling, streaming down my face, my whole body shaking with sobs, and I’m collapsing out of my chair into Paige’s arms. I sink into her on the floor, letting her strength support me, because God knows I have none. Her arms are firm around me, and I cry and cry and cry into her shirt, the blue of it darkening with my tears.

She presses her lips to my hairline, whispering words of reassurance against my forehead.

And though my whole world is crashing down around me, Paige is there. My Paige.

So, really - how bad could it be?

**********

“Mom!”

“Yes, honey?”

“What the hell is Paige doing here again?”

“Oh, she said she’d take Matthew to the park to play some basketball. You know how much he used to love watching her play-”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaim, stomping out of the kitchen and throwing my arms up. When the hell did she even manage to do that?

I storm out of the house, to where Paige is waiting near her car. “You better not be using my little brother to get to me, you asshole,” I warn menacingly, poking a finger into her chest. She narrows her eyes at me, and it startles me a-fucking-gain just how blue they are. She’s in a white cropped tank and mid-length blue shorts that hang off of her hips. Slowly, she pulls my finger down, wrapping her hand around it.

“Chill, Jacobs. Not everything is about you,” she says. I glare at the snark in her tone. “Ew, Maya, go change if you’re gonna come with us,” I hear my brother Matthew’s voice from behind me, a pair of Kyries hanging from his hand. I turn around to gape at him, and Paige guffaws. “Excuse you? I will take those shoes right to the store and return them-”

“Yap, yap, yap,” my brother complains, and my mouth drops open further, Paige’s laughter increasing in volume behind me.

I turn around and smack her on the stomach. “Shut up,” I hiss.

“Get in the car, kid!” Paige calls.

“Now, hang on. Where the fuck are you taking him?” I demand.

Matthew grins, running up to us. “I’m telling Mom you cussed,” he says slyly.

I make a face at him. “You’re such a little shit.”

Paige’s eyes trace over my face. “You’re sister’s a little brat, huh?” She notes, and Matthew groans in agreement. My eyes shoot to hers in shock. Brat?

She smirks at me. “You all ready?” She asks Matthew, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “You’re not taking my brother anywhere without me,” I blurt out stubbornly. What the hell? I don’t care that much. “And you’re not coming anywhere with me looking like that. Maya, you look ugly,” my brother says bluntly. “Matthew,” I warn. His attitude has really gotten worse since I’d gone to school.

“Go change,” he whines, and I look down at my old pajama pants and sleep tank, then back up to Paige. Her eyes trail up my body the same way, jaw tensing, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Yeah,” she intones hoarsely. “Go change.”

I hold her gaze for a few more seconds, the heat of it addicting. When she jerks her chin back towards my house, I listen. I run inside, up to my room, changing my clothes quickly.

I run back out in an all blue workout set, a pair of leggings and tank top that are the same royal blue as Paige and my high school colors. I fling open the door to Paige’s car, hopping in. I gather my hair to clip it up into a bun but she doesn’t move. “Hello? Go?” I say sarcastically, looking at her curiously. Her eyes are trained on me already, and it makes my chest warm.

“You’re wearing that?” She asks quietly, her knuckles white as her fingers grip the steering wheel. I crinkle my nose at her. “Sorry, did you wanna pick out my outfit?”

“Do you actually just exist to make my life difficult?” She snaps.

“Just drive,” I say, rolling my eyes.

The car is quiet for the first five seconds of the drive.

Then Matthew pipes up. “You guys fight a lot.”

Paige laughs drily. “You have no idea.”

We reached the park Paige and I had stumbled into each other at last week. Paige opens her trunk, resting her hand against the trunk door up in the air as she surveys her trunk. “You should clean your car,” I say matter-of-factly. “And you should mind your own business,” she quips back, but there’s no malice to her tone. She picks a pair of shoes out of the pile building in her car, slipping out of her driving slides to lace them up.

“Matt, you got the ball?!” She calls back to my brother. He yelps in response, already running to the court.

That’s the other thing that really pissed me off about all of it. He used to worship her. It’s not like he had a dad to teach him all the things he was supposed to know. But ever since we were kids, Paige had been there.

When he was four, he scraped his knee, and she cleaned the blood up that trailed down his leg because she knew it made me squeamish. She’d cleaned it with alcohol, holding his hand through the sting, and kissed the bandage she’d placed on top of it.

When he was six, he picked up a basketball for the first time. Paige was his hero. He wanted to be just like her, and she’d spent hours with him and Drew teaching them all the fundamentals. He dragged me to her high school games, starry-eyed at watching his idol run up and down the court.

When he was eight, my mom couldn’t make it to his 3rd grade talent show. She had an emergency shift at work, and I still only had my permit. Paige had sped through perhaps three different stop signs trying to get me there on time, and she’d taken us out for milkshakes afterwards.

My jaw clenches at the memories.

I watch them together, watch her let him blatantly foul her over and over again, purposefully missing layups while he laughs that she’s going easy on him. A tear tracks down my face, and I wipe at it stubbornly.

“Hey, you good?” Paige pants, running up to me, her brows furrowed. I hope she hasn’t seen me crying. “What? Yeah. So good.” Matthew is close behind her, his water bottle in hand. I blink. “Damn. Y’all already done?”

Matthew frowns. “Are you dumb? It’s been an hour and a half.” I open my mouth to spit a retort back at him, when Paige interjects. “Hey, take it easy on your sister,” she chides, clapping him on the back. “Thank you,” I sniff. She grins at him slyly. “She’s already shit at basketball, no need to make her feel worse,” Paige smirks. I roll my eyes.

Matthew howls with laughter, high fiving her. She takes his head in the crook of her arm, ruffling his hair. “Ah, I missed you, kid,” she laughs. “Now, hang on,” I splutter. “I’m not that bad.” Paige quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Play me then.” I scoff. “No!”

Paige backs up, dribbling the ball between her legs, and starts clucking like a chicken.

“Oh, that’s really mature,” I say loudly, crossing my arms. She doesn’t stop, and my stupid little brother joins in. “Play me!” She calls over his noises. I roll my eyes again, and she laughs. “They gon’ get stuck up there!”

“Okay, check up,” I snap finally.

I’m not awful - I played as a kid and in high school before committing to dance full time - but I’m no Paige Bueckers. I meet her at the 3-point line, gesturing for the ball. She grins, her eyebrows raised. “You sure?” I flick my wrist, gesturing for the ball again. “Don’t get all pussy on me now, Bueckers,” I tease.

It’s natural. Too natural, too instinctual, to be going back and forth with her like this.

Paige tosses me the ball, and I toss it back to her, before it lands in my hands again. I back up, dribble it out, then make a quick drive to the basket. I lay it in easily, catching it under the net, and turning to frown at her. “You’re taking it easy on purpose,” I complain, thudding the ball into her chest. She grasps onto the ball, staring down at me, her eyes searching mine. “How do you know that?” She murmurs.

I shake my head, biting back a smile. I can’t tell if the rapid beating of my heart is from the drive or from the fact that she’s this close to me, smelling clean and fresh and so Paige. “Cut the shit. Play for real,” I tell her, dropping my hands from the ball. Neither of us move, the ball the only thing between us. Then she breaks the thread connecting us, dribbling back to the perimeter.

On her drive, I grasp at her shirt, and she yelps, completing the play anyway, the ball falling deftly through the net. “Foul!” She yells at me. “You have like seven inches on me, how the fuck else am I supposed to defend you?!” I demand. Paige stares at me. Then she cracks her neck, tongue in her cheek.

When she blocks my next shot viciously, I know she’s playing for real.

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredibly attractive when she’s so competitive. Possession after possession, she absolutely dominates the game. It doesn’t help that my idiot brother is cheering for her the whole time, spurring her confidence on. She knocks me to the ground on the last play, yelling triumphantly in my face as she stands over me, feet on either side of my body. Her body glistens with sweat, but her smile is fucking blinding. She leans down, her chain dangling in my face. “Still not shit, huh, Jacobs?”

I grab her shirt, pulling her to the floor, and her knees land on the concrete on either side of my torso so that she’s almost straddling my body. She lurches forward with the momentum, her hands on either side of my head. Her ponytail falls down, brushing my nose. “Shut up, Bueckers,” I mumble, but I’m smiling, my eyes moving between her lips and her eyes, my hand still fisted in her shirt.

“Are you guys gonna kiss?!” Matthew calls, breaking me out of my trance. I shove her off of me and she squawks, falling to the side. “Shut up, Matthew,” I grumble, stalking past my brother and smacking him on the back of the head. Paige is on her feet now, dusting off her hands. “So sensitive,” she says mockingly, eliciting a withering look from me. She sighs, turning to my brother and holding her hands out helplessly. “Can’t take a joke,” he says, shaking his head. Paige laughs loudly, looping an arm around his shoulder and walking with him to her car.

“How do milkshakes sound?” I hear her ask him.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk

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acotarxreader · 2 days

Text

Shadow and Flame pt 3

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, smut, miscommunications, mentions of burn.

A/N: Right, I haven't written smut in a very long time and I am very rusty so apologies in advance there 😂 the end of this segment I hope it's clear that both situations happen concurrently and that that comes across yikes! I'm still blown away by people's kind words and welcoming nature. Thank you so much loves! Part 4 loading

Part 1 Part 2

--------------------------------

You woke to the smell of cedar and mist replacing the smell of burned skin in your nose. You sighed gently, tempting your eyes to open. You reached to feel the softest silk beneath your hands. This sent fear through you. Where were you? You tried to will your body upright but insurmountable pain shattered through your bones. Your eyes peeled open, to stare up at a delicately painted ceiling, the stars of the night sky looking back at you. You reached for any flame you could find but none came to you, your own fire truly exhausted from the battle with your Father's.

“Easy there YN” the female's voice stopped your movements, your eyes frantically searching for the source as she stepped out of the shadow.

“Hello, I'm Feyre, please be gentle with yourself you were ravaged” she said quietly and you hated it. Hated the pity. You knew of Feyre, you knew of her and your brother, what happened Under The Mountain and all the things that happened since but mostly you knew she was not an immediate threat unless threatened.

“Where am I?” You rasped through your smokey throat.

“Valeris, this is our home, Azriel brought you to us when you landed on the town house steps, we have healers round the clock for you, it won't be long until you're right again” you groaned, trying to move your body, pushing away the pain.

“I need Lucien” you breathed

“Yes well….about him, he is kind of sort of not available at the moment”

“What?” You gently turned your head to get a look at the beautiful High Lady.

“Az won't allow him to darken the door. I'm sorry if this upsets you but we must let him work through it himself if we are ever to see them in the same room again” Feyre left out the part where Azriel had nearly torn the Prince of Foxes limb for limb, leaving him in his own state of disrepair.

“I have to go, I have to go back to Autumn, he'll come for me”

“Beron will not step another foot in this Court unless he fancies losing it. My mate is handling him as we speak” she spoke with such hatred in her voice for your Father. He had crossed into the territory unwelcomed, certainly ruffling the treaty but you were his to fetch. You knew he'd come back, treaty or not. You couldn't stay here and risk the vengeance. You couldn't stay here and risk them finding out your heritage. You pushed up slightly to sit and rest against the headboard, your skin screaming at you to stop. You glanced around the room lit by sunlight, no flame to be seen

“Feyre, I need fire”

“I think you've had enough of that” she laughed but stopped once she noticed your stony expression.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “Az has instructed us to keep you from fire until you are rested, he said you're a flight risk, he didn't care to elaborate” she gave a small smile.

“Azriel is not my keeper. I have to get to flame, it will help me to recover” she weighed up her options as you pleaded with your copper eyes. She moved slowly to the fireplace to retrieve a matchbox and tealight, figuring a small light was of minimal risk. Your eyes followed her hands as she drew the match backwards, watching and waiting for the relief the crackle of fire would bring. The match drew against the red phosphorus as you held your breath. A shadow quenches the flame before it could grow.

“Feyre” her head snapped to Azriel as he stood in the doorway, tea tray in hand. She looked at the Shadowsinger as if she was a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“I-she said she needs it to recover” he sighed at her before glancing straight to you, the words she said only resonating with him then, you were awake.

“YN, thank the Gods” he dashed to your side, putting the tray down. Feyre allowed a smirk to grow, dropping the matches at the end of the bed before seeing herself out of the room.

“Get me Lucien” his face twisted in anger at the sound of the name and that these were the first words you'd uttered to him in a week.

“YN, please I know he is your love but-” your loud laugh cut him off, pressure releasing as your ribs shook.

“That is disgusting” you remarked with a smile to the confused Shadowsinger. You swallowed the laugh growing in you again, attempting to swing your legs to the side of the bed to have Azriels hand stop you in your tracks.

“YN please you must rest”

“I must get out of here before Fa-Beron comes and burns this place to cinders”

“He wouldn't dare, what is it he wants with you?” You glanced down at your feet and back up to meet the hazel eyes. You must have looked like a nightmare, ash still in your hair, cracked skin screaming to be reconnected with itself and yet Azriel looked at you with pure kindness in his eyes.

“He wants - I can't tell you what he wants but I should go to him before he comes to collect” you said smally. Azriel kneeled to the side of the bed to fall between your legs as they hung over the edge. His hands slid into yours as if they were always meant to be there. You watched the movement with such caution. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to be seen. You weren't supposed to want to be seen.

“I will not hesitate to kill him where he stands should he cross the threshold of the Night Court without permission again” his eyes searched yours with determination.

“I want to trust you” he lowered his head to your hands at your response. Azriel almost painfully slowly raised your hands to his mouth to place the gentlest of kisses on your cracked skin. This sent tingles through your body, the lovingness of the gesture warmed you, soothing your exhausted internal blaze.

“Then trust me” His words broke your heart, but you felt you trusted him as much as you trusted your father would come for you.

“Give me a flame” your eyes landed on the box of matches at the end of the bed. His eyes followed yours with trepidation. If your father was to come then you were not going to have him find you broken in a bed.

“YN-”

“-If I am to trust you then you are to trust me, give me a flame to aid my recovery” your eyes scanned him from side to side, hoping to portray the genuineness you felt. He released your hands, reaching for the match box again.

He dragged a match from its cage and looked into your eyes as he struck it off the red phosphorus, bursting into life. Its glow illuminated the space between you both. You reached a shaky hand towards the flame, it almost stretching out to you in joy of being reunited.

Azriel watched in awe, never had he seen the elements behave in such a way for any ordinary Fae. But you weren't ordinary, you were of pure Autumn Court blood, the flame a friend of yours. Your finger made contact with the heat, Azriel tried not to cringe at the sound of the sizzle. You breathed the energy before diving in. You were pulled from the bed and deep within its heat. Azriel leapt to his feet at the now empty bed in front of him. He cursed out loud, he trusted you and you left. He wanted to help you and you left. He cared for you and you left. The match fizzled out.

“Told you” he jumped on the spot as you stood from behind him, skin beginning to knit together again faster than any healer could work. Your loose nightdress flowed over the scars now melting back into your skin as you smiled at the Shadowsinger. He exhaled in relief, closing the distance between you.

“Did you think I'd gone?” he caught hold of your hands as you gave a small laugh at his surprised face.

“I thought you had evaded my touch once again Flame” you tried to hide your blush at his new pet name for you, failing miserably. You felt yourself almost fall into the shrinking space between you both, Azriels shadows dancing with your flames around your feet, finding home in one another.

“Who are you Flame?” It was hardly above a whisper.

“I-”

“-Excuse me!” Madjas sharp voice split you both apart.

“Madja I was just-”

“-Leaving Lady YN to bed rest, as we had agreed” she raised an eyebrow as Azriel almost shrunk into himself like a bold school child. You let a little laugh leave you at the sight, until Madja landed her gaze on you and you hung your head almost in shame. She pointed to the bed with a slender finger, you went to protest but her heated stare told you otherwise as you slipped back into the sheets.

∆***************∆

You sank into the medicated bath. Normally being submerged in water had you feeling ill but the myriad of lit candles surrounding you gave you comfort. Madja had ordered you to soak your stitching skin and you now feared her almost as much as your father so you obliged.

You hummed gently as your eyes rested in the swimming pool-like bath that was flush with the floor. You wondered where Lucien was, how angry he'd be with you, how enraged he'd be at the sight of you and Azriel earlier. You couldn't help but smile at the discomfort you'd bring your sibling. You reached for the salve Madja instructed you to apply, it's cream-like consistency foaming on the grooves of your skin.

“YN I brought you- Fuck sorry!” Azriel shielded his eyes quickly while dropping the books he held in his hand. You moved deeper in the water, suddenly shy at his presence. He moved to gather the books still blocking his eyes, kicking one into the bubbling water.

“Shit!”

“Azriel just open your eyes before you end up in here with me” you laughed retrieving the book, its ink blending into the water. Azriel thought for a moment to keep his eyes closed, the possibility of ending up in there with you making the hair on his neck stand up in excitement. He opened his eyes cautiously to find you staring up at him through your lashes.

“Thank you for lighting the candles for me earlier, a lovely surprise”

“You're welcome, anything you need” he gathered the books, shivers running through him at the sight of your body beneath the bubbles.

“Actually Azriel….nevermind”

“No, what is it? Tell me” You shrunk in on yourself slightly, your boldness leaving you. He wanted to stay there with you as long as he could, in any capacity.

“It's just….I need to put this salve on my back and…I can't reach and Madja has gone home for the evening and-”

“Sure” he replied quickly, cursing himself internally at your smirk.

Azriel lowered himself on his knees behind you, his wings balancing him from teetering over the edge. You passed the jar back to him over your shoulder, trying to keep your anticipation to a minimum, fixing your glance at the navy tiling.

He hovered his shaking hand above your shoulder as it glistened from the water. Azriel every so gently rubbed the salve into your skin, it foaming on contact. You rolled your head back slightly at the feeling of the soothing balm on your cracked skin causing a breath of relief to leave you. Azriels eyes fell over your shoulder for a moment to glance at your chest, he mentally scolded himself immediately for stealing the glance, pulling his hand back.

“Are you okay?” You noticed the missing sensation straight away, you rolled to lie on your stomach, forearms across the rim of the bath, you looked up at the Shadowsinger on his knees above you.

“I-I’m not sure I've ever felt so okay before in my life Flame” his eyes were so lovingly looking at you with such true sincerity you'd never felt from someone before. You pushed up from the bath to your feet, your whole torso dripping in bubbles gleaming. Azriel swallowed the lump in his throat, he was now eye level with you as you reached for his hand and pulled him closer to you. He couldn't help but trace your whole body with his eyes, drinking you in. Your hand slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him up from his knees and forward to meet your lips.

Inferno. Azriels whole body felt warm and secure as you kissed him deeply, his hands going to your waist. You shuddered a little bit at his cold hands meeting your wet sides.

“Sorry sorry did I hurt you?” he pulled back suddenly to your surprise.

“Azriel do you intend on hurting me?”

“No”

“Then no, you didn't hurt me, it's just because I'm all….wet that your dry hand just…startled me” Azriel took a moment to think before a devilish smirk grew across his face, he stood and began to strip down in front of you. Your mouth dried out at the sight of him, your skin felt electric as he sank into the water alongside you. His hand grazed the side of your cheek, pulling you forward to meet him gently.

“I-was-so-scared-when-I-found-you-on-the-steps” Azriel breathed out between kisses. You passed one of your legs over his lap beneath the water to straddle him, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss.

“Were you looking for me?” You smiled into the kiss, his hands wrapping around you to pull you flush into him.

“I think my whole life Flame” your heart sang at these words, your breath taken from you as he attached himself to your neck. You moaned at the feeling of his teeth nipping you, trailing down your neck to your chest. Azriel hardened beneath you even more at the sound. You leaned up slightly, running a hand down his chiselled chest to beneath the surface of the water to his lengthy member.

“Fuuuck” he breathed at the feeling and you grinned. You slowly lowered yourself back down onto him, moaning loudly in his ear, your nails dug into his shoulders at the sensation. You adjusted to him between your legs, the flames of the candles growing wilder around the bath.

“Are you going to set me on fire Flame?” Azriel groaned out as you began to bounce slightly on his length. He reattached to your neck to muffle his groans, failing massively. The both of you moved in unison, tension building building building. Azriels fingers gripped into your sides with burning pressure, the flames around you growing taller and taller with your tighting core until the whole bath was surrounded by a ring of your fire. If Azriel was honest with himself, he was a bit afraid of the growing towers of fire but he felt so easily lost in your moans he forgot the fear as soon as it came. You moaned his name so loudly you were sure they heard you in Summer Court, toppling Azriel over his own edge, the flame on the candles becoming small and still again at the release.

You stayed on his lap for a moment, until he stood with you still in his arms. He passed through the bathroom doors into your adjacent room with your flames dancing around to dry you both before he placed you on the bed.

“Flame, I have to see to something with Rhys but I will be back before you know it” you ran your hand gently down his cheek as he leaned and whispered those words from above you.

“I'll be here”

“Do you promise?”

“Do you trust me?” He kissed your cheek in answering your question before retrieving his clothes and redressing. You allowed your eyes to fall close as he slipped out the door.

*********

You rolled over to find the bed empty alongside you still an hour or so later. You lifted yourself from the bed, dressing in a robe that Feyre had laid out for you. You wandered down the hall in search of Azriel.

“I don't care Rhys, she stays!” You heard Azriels sharp tone from the other side of a large oak door. You couldn't help but stop and listen.

“Az, she is not from the Court, she belongs to Autumn-”

“She belongs to no one” Azriel seethed.

“Brother, she brings a threat to our door. Lucien has told us she must go to Autumn, to Beron, it is beyond our control-” your breath hitched in your throat, had Lucien let the cat out of the bag?

“It is very much in your control Cass”

“Beron has made it clear that he will help us in our efforts should we return YN”

“She is not a political pawn!”

“She belongs to Beron, she must go back! I am not going to war for some female that landed on our doorstep! He wants you dead Azriel, I will not have you sacrificed for her!” Rhysands hands banged against the solid wood of his desk.

You took a step back from the door again. They were going to send you back. Your Father would have you mangled for the embarrassment of having to be sent against your will back to him. You looked at the candles lighting the stairwell adjacent and with a deep breath you knew it was time to go before they took you kicking and screaming. But you didn't want to, you couldn't leave like this, couldn't leave Azriel. The rock of having him hurt because of you and the hard place of returning to a vengeful father is where you found yourself wedged firmly between. You ran from the stairwell to your room, head scrambling.

“I could have said the same when you barraged in on Tamlin and Feyres wedding!’

“Az!” Cass reprimanded Azriel with his eyes for his comments.

“That was different Az, Feyre is my mate!”

“And what if YN is mine!?” The two were instantly silent to this. Azriel felt such strong and complex feelings towards you, such a magnetic force, the flame to his smoke. A chill ran down his spine. Something was happening. The three Illyrians took an instinctive fighting stance.

“Y/N” your father stood in a circle of flame in your room, eerily calm with an outstretched hand.

“Come home now and all will be forgiven” Berons eyes told a different story. He was boiling in anger, anger you knew Azriel would take the brunt of if you didn't go now and yet you hesitated, looking around the safe space Azriel had made for you. You went to speak, to defy, to scream but you were too slow, too weak still, Berons flame engulfed you and pulled you from where you stood.

****

Azriel materialised into your room, the other two warriors searching for the source of their unease elsewhere in River House.

“Flame, you wouldn't believe the- YN?” He materialised in your room to find it empty. He ran to the bathroom to find you gone from there as well, all the flames in the room doused out.

*******************

What do we think friends?

Part 4

Tag list: @sunshineangel-reads @skylarkalchemist @tele86 @saltedcoffeescotch @impossibelle @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @fightmedraco

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169 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 23 hours

Note

https://twitter.com/archivetic/status/1758334384585769157?t=hoktjLg2x8FmpQRqmJJPeA&s=19

Can you write about Knight!Konig and princess reader just like the video above? Konig takes her virginity and slaps her puffy pink unused pussy before he puts his humongous cock into her.

I LOVE KNIGHT KÖNIG!! Also😮‍💨 to be in the woods with König in that woman's position would be a dream.

I made up fake kingdoms so it is easier to self insert for the story!

Knight!König x Princess!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab. non-con, bondage, p in v, oral

2.7k word count

You are the youngest princess from the Kingdom of Cerdon, a rich kingdom not known for its generosity. You’ve been asked to travel to a neighboring kingdom to court the prince for allegiance. The Kingdom of Falgar, known for its strong military, would be able to provide your kingdom with the protection it needs and yours will provide the poor nation with gold.

You sit with a deep purple dress with golden hand embroidery along the hem, your hair pulled back exposing your delicate shoulders. You sit in the study with a book open on your lap while you gaze out of the window. A guard walks up to you and clears his throat to get your attention.

Turning your head slowly, your sad eyes meet his gaze.

“My Princess,” he bows before you, “I’ve been requested to bring you to the throne room.” He stands back up and steps to the side, waiting for you to stand and follow him.

“Why?” You’ve always been known as the defiant princess.

The guard sighs and turns his head to you, “Princess, the King is summoning you. You must come with me.” His voice stern, not wanting to deal with your antics.

Slowly you close the book in your lap, placing it on the seat next to you and standing. You adjust your dress and straighten your posture.

“Okay, let’s go.”

The guard escorts you to the throne room where you see your father and mother sitting at their thrones with an extremely large knight standing before them. You walk in and bow to the king, your own father and you hated it. You take a seat on your throne next to your mother.

“Princess y/n, this is Knight König, from the Kingdom of Falgar.”

König nods at you, his helmet covering his face completely. His eyes fall to your cleavage as your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take; he can tell that you’re feeling nervous. What a sweet looking young woman you are.

The Queen, your mother, turns her head to you with a sad look in her eyes. One that makes your heart drop into your stomach. She gives you a weak smile before turning her head and looking at Knight König.

“Well, I suppose you know why we have called you here.”

You lean forward in your throne to see your father. He talks without looking at you. He can feel you looking at him, but you’re his youngest and the thought of this possibly being the last time he sees you hurts his heart; he has to be a strong man right now.

“Knight König here is going to be escorting you to the Kingdom of Falgar. Your items will be packed by the help and sent after you.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you frown. You knew this day would come, but you always thought that you would get a date so you could prepare. You look back at König and your father.

“I don’t want to go.” You say in a shaky voice.

The Queen closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, she knew you would fight this which is why they surprised you with it. They didn’t want to risk you trying to run away. König rolls his eyes but you can’t see it because of his helmet.

Typical spoiled brat… König thinks to himself.

“This is not up for discussion; the arrangements have already been made.” The King's voice booms.

With tears threatening to fall you cross your arms and glare at your father. You watch as your mothers drops her head.

“I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but we must leave before the sun begins to set.” Knight König speaks up in a soft tone.

Your head snaps in his direction with a look of disdain on your face. “No one asked you to speak!”

“Y/N!” Your meek mother snaps. “You will leave now! No more of this.” Tears begin to stream down her eyes as she stands.

You stand quickly and latch on to her, wrapping your arms around her in a deep hug, both of you crying as she pets your hair.

“Please behave, your kingdom needs you. Think of their wellbeing.”

Her words stung. Since you were a child, you’ve been well aware that your role as a Princess was to be educated, beautiful, and versed in the arts so you could be a worthy trade. You’re a human, not a piece in a chess game. You’ve always hated not being able to live life for yourself, always being told what to wear, how to look, what hobbies to learn. Your life is a gilded cage. Now you’re being sent away with this ogre to a poor Kingdom.

Your mother pulls away and walks away from you, leaving the throne room. You look at your father and he still avoids your gaze.

“Prinzessin,” Knight König approaches you with his hand extended for you to grasp. “We must leave now, Bitte.”

Your face mixed with sadness and rage, you take his hand and you let him lead you outside. He walks you outside to see the most beautiful black horse you’ve ever seen, but no carriage.

“I’m not riding on that the whole way there.”

“Would you rather walk?” König says quickly, annoyed with what he has seen so far of your attitude.

You cross your arms and glare at him.

“Let’s go, now.” He pulls you towards him and lifts you by your waist, putting you on the horse before getting on himself with you sitting in front of him.

Before he took off, you look back to see one of your older sisters standing outside and waving good-bye to you with a sad look on her face. You weakly raise your hand and wave back. König notices and he looks down at you before taking off quickly.

“You will be okay Prinzessin,” König attempted to comfort you.

“Don’t speak to me!” You were in no mood to speak to the man taking you from your family, from your cozy life.

König had to bite his tongue, feeling his anger rise as you snapped back at him. You need to be taught your manners.

The sun started to set, your shadows growing long. König begins to stir the horse towards the woods. You notice and protest.

“Shouldn’t we be going to an Inn? It’s getting dark.”

“Yes, but now we are camping in the woods.”

You're stunned by his words. Camping? In the woods? Where wild beasts live and thieves crawl. Has he gone crazy?

“I’m not camping in the woods.”

“You have no choice, Princess. Your little tantrum put us behind schedule so we didn’t make it to the Inn on time. The roads are dangerous after dark.”

He lied, your emotional outburst didn’t put you behind schedule at all, he just went a different route so he can have you sleep in the woods. He wants to teach the spoiled princess a lesson that things can’t always be her way.

He gets off the horse and drags you off of it, you protest and hit his arms. You don’t have to be manhandled, you’re capable of getting off the horse yourself. König pushes you a little when he puts you down, you’re really testing him.

König grabs the bedroll from the back of the horse, you’d have to share it. You continue to stand by the tree with your arms crossed and just looking at him.

“How am I supposed to sleep on the ground?”

“You’ll be sleeping on a bedroll, not the floor.” His voice has an edge to it now.

“Take me back to my kingdom now!” You shout in a demanding voice, not wanting to spend another second here.

“You’re a spoiled brat.”

Your eyes went wide, did he really just say that? No one has ever spoken to you this way before. “Uh, excuse me?”

König stands up and turns to face you, you only see blackness in the small visor area of his helmet. His size and the fact you cannot see him makes him very intimidating. König takes two steps towards you.

“I said you’re a fucking brat!”

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms. He grabs one and pulls it away, grasping your arm tightly. You try to pull away but his grip doesn’t loosen.

“A brat that needs to learn a fucking lesson.” He moves his other hand to your neck and pushes you back against the tree.

Fear mixed with lust rushes over you. At this moment you’re just a young woman and he’s just a man. You’ve never had someone treat you this way before, like a human. You’re a princess.

“Stop!” You try to squirm away from him.

He moves his hand from your neck to your other arm and he swings you around, slamming you down on the bed roll. You begin to protest and kick, kicking his helmet in the process exposing his hardened and scared face. You both look at each other for a moment, him expecting you to be disgusted but you don’t seem to be.

König fixes the helmet and begins to wear fabric from the bedroll and binds your wrist together, ripping extra and shoving it into your mouth to keep you quiet. His eyes travel over your body looking at how your breast jiggle as you struggle.

“Quiet, just how you should be.” He gently taps the side of your face and chuckles mockingly at your situation. “Don’t worry, I’m going to teach you how to be a proper woman.”

Your protest is muffled but the cloth in your mouth as he pulls up your dress. You move your arms trying to pull them out of the knot that he’s bound them into. König pulls off your underpants. His large hands gripping your thighs and pulling your legs wide apart to look at your pussy. He pulls off his gloves so he can touch your bare skin.

“My, my, my, look at this pretty thing.” He moves a finger down your untouched pussy, dragging his fingers through your public hair enjoying the softness of it.

You glare at him as he touches you, fighting the feeling of pleasure it gives you when you feel him touch your clit. Since you are royalty, you had to remain chaste until marriage and you’ve never had a man touch or see you like this. The feeling is…good.

He moves his other hand to spread your folds and look at your pretty pink pussy, your tight hole…

“So soft and pink,” He brings his face closer as if to smell you before leaning back.

He raises a hand and slaps your pussy hard, making you whimper and jerk forward. He smiles to himself watching your puffy pussy jiggle slightly as he slaps your pussy again, and again, and again. Finally, he drops your legs and leans back. His hands begin to fumble with his armor, pulling away his tassets and codpiece. His cock already hard underneath his armor.

Once he releases himself you look down at his cock and your eyes widen at his size. He notices and laughs.

“I’m about to ruin all other men for you, Meine süße Prinzessin.”

Grabbing you by your bound arms he pulls you up to your feet again. Your shoes have fallen off, your feet getting covered in dirt as you walk along the ground. Sharp sticks poking the sole of your feet. He pushes you up against a tree, you try to shake free but he just pushes you harder.

König begins to pull the skirt of your dress up with one hand as the other keeps you against the tree. Once your ass is in view, he spanks it lightly and lets out a pleased sigh. You mumble something he can’t understand and he doesn’t care.

Holding his fat cock he gids it to your pussy. Without prep or warning he shoves his girthy long cock right into your virgin hole. Your eyes widen as your hands grasp at the bark of the tree in front of you. The sharp stinging pain of him tearing through you sending a new sensation throughout your whole body.

König shoves himself all the way into you, letting out a loud groan. “Mein Gott, I’ve never been with a virgin before… or a princess for that matter.” He chuckles.

Slowly moving back before grasping your hips with both of his hands, his fingers digging into your flesh. He begins to fuck into you rapidly, his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit as his hand move your hips to match his rhythm. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the quiet woods. He lifts one leg to get a better angle and goes deeper into you. You roll your head back as he does, your whimpers barely heard.

He quickly pulls out and begins to stroke his cock, “Fuck, you’re so tight I already feel like I want to cum.”

He kneels and shoves two fingers into your pussy making you moan loudly. König smirks and looks up at you as he fingers your sweet tender pussy. Your legs begin to shake. You move your body slightly as if trying to get away but you don’t really want to. This is an amazing feeling.

König knew you were close so he pulled his fingers out and shoves his cock back into you. His eyes watching your face as your eyes flutter. He reaches out and wraps his fingers around your throat to pull your head back to rest your body against his.

“Good girl, I knew you needed this.” König whispers into your ear. “Let me fuck that attitude out of you.”

He closes his eyes as he thrust his hips up into you. Your tight silky walls cling to his sensitive cock. He listens to your muffled moans as one of his hands snakes up the front of your dress and squeezes your breast tightly. He squeezes your neck slightly as he feels your body tense, your legs tremble under you and your body goes limp.

He drops to the floor with you, both of you landing on your knees as he bucks into you quickly. His hands moving to your hips

“Cum for me,” he pants.

You lean forward and rest your body on the tree. Your knees are getting scrapped up but you don’t even care. Your muffled moans grow louder as your eyes fully roll back. You feel naughty, you shouldn’t be enjoying this; but it’s something you’ve always wanted to do. And with a Knight? Father would explode with anger.

König thrust into you slowly as you calm down from your first orgasm. His hands reach all over your body, enjoying the sensation of your soft tender skin. Once he feels your body relax, he pulls out.

“Good girl,” he slaps your ass again. His hand reached to your mouth and pulled out the cloth that was shoved in. “Stay on your knees.”

He stands before you and you look up at him. He lists his helmet so you can look into his eyes as he cums on you. “Look at me Prinzessin, tongue out.” He turns you to face him, grabbing your jaw gently.

You look up at him as he begins to stroke his cock, using the creamy cum you left all over it as his lube. His other hand caresses your face gently. His eyes close as he lets out soft moans, his cock begins to throb as it spurts cum all over your face and in your mouth. The cum getting on your hair and in your eye, making you close the one as he continues to look up at him.

You swallow what was on your tongue, enjoying the bitter taste, as you look up at him with a dick dizzy smile. He slaps his cock on your face a few times before leaning over and slapping you across the face.

“You liked that?

You nod your head with a blush on your face. Your once clean dress is now covered in dirt, your hair in shambles, and your face covered in cum. You feel real.

“Gut,” König smiles down at you.

Magically this horrible journey doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

#tw: noncon #konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #konig x you #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you #cod smut #könig x reader smut #smut

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flemingsfreckles · 8 hours

Text

Physio’s Daughter Part 6

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the other 5 parts HERE

Warnings: just cursing and the angst :)

WC: 4.3k

A/N: okay, so I know the opponents don’t match up with who Canada will actually play in the group stage of the Olympics but I’m a superstitious mfker and I don’t want to be responsible for jinxing anything, so they’re playing different teams.

You had never been on a private plane, it was definitely a different experience flying with the Canadian team than on a regular plane, however it didn’t make your dislike of flying any better. You were nervous walking up the stairs to the plane, you were nervous walking down the aisle, you were nervous when you sat down in the incredibly large and surprisingly comfortable chair. Your nerves only grew when you felt someone plop into the seat next to you only to look over and see Jessie with her sweet smile looking at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh this has got to be a joke.” You don’t mean to say it out loud but you do. Jessie’s smile falls when she hears your words.

“Nope.” She holds her phone out to you showing her ticket that shows she was indeed sitting next to you. “Sorry, I can see if someone will switch.”

You don’t respond to her, she has every right to sit there but you didn’t know how you were going to handle being next to her for such a long period of time. She stands up and you watch her scan the plane looking for a teammate to switch with.

“Sit down Jeff, you're holding us up.” One of her teammates waiting in the aisle says, she listens not wanting to start any issues. She plops down with a sigh into the seat next to you.

She definitely didn’t help your nerves, now you were nervous about the actual flying and spending the 8 hour flight next to the woman you were attracted to, but couldn’t have. You sat in silence as she got herself situated in her seat. Grabbing out a pair of headphones, a bottle of water, and a bag of dried fruit.

She didn’t say anything to you and you didn’t say anything back. That was until the plane started pushing back.

You were clutching onto your arm rest with one hand, your phone in the other as your tried to shuffle through songs to find one to make the plane ride less miserable. Subconsciously your knees were both bouncing aggressively, trying to get out your nerves.

“You alright?” Jessie points at your knees.

“I hate flying. It just feels unnatural, you know?”

“I guess, it’s never bothered me much. I try to sleep

most of the time. It’ll be okay.” She puts out a hand on the small table between your seats. She’s offering to hold your hand.

You look at it for a second, before deciding to turn her hand down. You shake your head to indicate you were good, you didn’t need to hold someone’s hand, you were an adult. Except it was then that the plane began down the runway to take off, the plane rattling, making you reach for her hand just as she was about to pull it away.

You interlock your fingers and grip her hand tightly. You’re sure your hands are sweaty and clammy which is embarrassing. Jessie gives your hand a gentle squeeze as you feel the plane lift off. You look over at her and she mouths the words “it’s okay”.

Despite the flight being at night you didn’t sleep for a second. Jessie fell asleep less than an hour after take off, you felt her grip on your hand relax and you looked over to see her seat slightly reclined, her head back and her eyes shut. She looked peaceful and beautiful. Realizing your own thoughts you turn away from her, kicking yourself for thinking about her. You also pull your hand away, placing it into your own lap to pick at the skin on your thumb.

It’s a long and restless eight hours and you’re thankful when you get the announcement that the plane would be landing soon. The announcement wakes up Jessie, she shifts in her seat, making a few soft groans before her eyes blink open.

“Did he say we’re almost landing?” She asks, sliding her headphone off.

“Yeah, shortly.” You let her know.

“Oh wow, did I sleep the whole flight?”

“I think so, I’m not sure.” You didn’t want her to think you had been paying attention to her, you had been, stealing glances at the girl beside you every 15 minutes to just admire her, and envy her ability to sleep.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yeah a bit.” You lie.

She gives you a smile and her arm extends to give you a quick pat on the shoulder. “Good, see I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

As you approach the ground Jessie offers her hand again, only this time you’re smart enough not to take it. “Landing doesn’t bother me as much as taking off.” You tell Jessie, another lie, it still terrified you just as much.

Once you’re on the ground, you remove your hands from the armrest where you’re pretty sure you made indents with your fingers from gripping so hard. Everyone files off the plane and onto buses. You get on the bus and pick the seat next to your Mom, not wanting to risk an open seat next to you being taken by a certain brunette.

“Convenient seating on the plane eh?” Your Mom nudges you.

“Please stop.” You grumble at her. You were tired from your inability to sleep on the plane, overwhelmed from the stress and ready to be in bed. You were also bothered as she was the one making it such a big deal that you had a crush on Jessie, she shouldn’t get to joke around about it.

“Oh don’t be so uptight.” You stuck your headphones back on, and leaned over to place your head on your Mom’s shoulder. The bus ride was about an hour, most of which you passed by finally being able to sleep.

The next few days went by quickly, the players busy with training, photo shoots, drug tests, interviews, meetings, you hardly saw the players except during training or physio appointments. It worked out well for you, being able to avoid Jessie for the majority of each day. You got to go out and explore the city, most of which you did with Olivia, one of the other staff members.

Olivia was your assigned roommate for the trip, she was the other youngest staff member, still 2 years older than you. She worked primarily with the media team. She was blonde, tall, and loud. She was exactly your type.

You two quickly became close, learning to navigate the new city together, only a couple of times getting lost. You would get up and get coffee together each day, trying as many cafes as possible. You’d walk around with your coffee, enjoying the sites and the quiet mornings before you’d both split to go work, you to the training room while Olivia would go gather her camera gear and head to the pitch. On the pitch she would come over to you, talking to keep you company.

Olivia was nice, she worked as a good distraction, when you weren’t face to face with Jessie at training, you were able to keep her out of your mind, instead you kept Olivia in your mind.

The first few games of the group rounds were easy, Canada easily beating Japan 3-0, then drawing with Germany 1-1. The last group stage game was a 2-0 win over Brazil. You had just finished up work, giving players treatment after their first knockout game against Australia, a nerve wracking 1-0 victory.

It had been a long day, when you got back to your hotel room Olivia was already there, sitting at the desk working.

“Hi!” She smiled at you when you walked in. “You look exhausted.”

“Gee thanks.” You reply sarcastically as you flop yourself onto your bed, face down into the blanket. You were grateful that the semi final game wouldn’t be for 3 days. You’d still have work when the players trained, but it wouldn’t be all day and into the night like match days were.

“I took photos of you today, want to see them?” Olivia asked as you remained faced down on your hotel bed. You rolled over and sat up, looking across to the desk where she was editing on her computer, your face on the screen.

“Why did you take photos of me?” Skeptical of what she meant, you pushed yourself off the bed and over to stand behind her chair. The photo on her computer screen was a photo of you, talking with Ashley Lawrence as you wrapped her wrist with tape.

She clicks to the next photo, it’s one of you carrying a medical bag out from the tunnel onto the field. She clicks again. It's one of your Mom and Sarah chatting on the bench looking at paperwork.

“Well it’s more photos of the whole staff, you all don’t get enough recognition for what you do, so I asked my manager if I could spend some time taking photos of you all working, to make a little appreciation post.” She keeps flipping through the photos, there are a lot of you, some of you with players, some of you with other staff and then a lot of you just alone, standing watching the game, a couple of you on the pitch, treating a player for a cramp, one of you on the phone.

“You photograph well.”

“Oh.” You blush, you’re not sure what to say to the compliment. “Thanks, it’s probably more your photography skills.”

Olivia turns away from the computer to look up at you. Her eyes wander over your face for a minute before she says “Nope, pretty sure it’s just you.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Olivia pushes back from the desk and over to her backpack. “You know, if you want, I have my personal camera, I can take photos of you while we’re out.”

Her comment brought you back to your text conversation with Jessie from weeks ago, when she offered to be your personal photographer on your travels.

“That sounds nice, tomorrow?”

“Yeah I’m free, obviously, since we have the same schedule.” She laughs. “Sounds good, we can do some sightseeing, and then maybe lunch?”

“Perfect.” You sit down behind Olivia as she turns back to looking at photos, watching over her shoulder as she continues to go through photos of the players. Every time Jessie pops up on her screen you feel a flutter in your stomach. You were doing such a good job of avoiding her, not thinking about her, here you were still having feelings about her when you were about to embark on your day with Olivia tomorrow.

Your phone rings, you scurry over to it, Jessie’s name on the screen. You answer.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Her voice is soft, gentle, you could listen to her talk for hours.

“What’s up?”

“You’re off tomorrow, I’m off tomorrow. Can I finally get that coffee date?” She then quickly corrects herself. “Not a date, but us getting coffee, but not a date, us, coffee, tomorrow. And not coffee where its me bringing it to you in your office.”

“Um, yeah I can probably make that work. I’m going around with Olivia to do some sightseeing, but we can probably go later in the morning, we can grab coffee early”

“Oh, okay, never mind. That’s alright, enjoy your time with her.” You can hear the defeat in her voice.

“No Jess it’s-” you hear a beep and you then realize she hung up.

You put the phone down, slumping down to sit. Sure you were the one who maybe turned her down a little, but the way she hung up aggressively on you hurt.

“Jess? As in Fleming?” Olivia looks at you.

“Yeah, her and I are, we’re friends sorta. We’ve been trying to get coffee for a couple weeks but we’ve both been busy.

“Like a date?”

“Oh no, not a date.”

“Oh. Well you can go get coffee with her, I’m okay if we go mid morning instead.”

“Well she just hung up on me so, I’m not sure if it’s even an option.” You shrug.

“Alright then we can start early if that’s better. We can grab coffee and then do some sightseeing?”

The next morning you woke up to the sound of the shower starting, Olivia already awake and getting ready for the day. You check the time, it’s 7:40, technically sleeping in given your regular schedule. You lay in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for the bathroom to be free.

Olivia comes out in only a towel, making your eyes temporarily widen before you relax them.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t meant to hog the bathroom.” She smiles when she sees you’re also awake.

“Oh, no worries.” You roll yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom yourself. “I’m going to shower and then I’ll be ready to go.” You shower quickly and step out wrapping yourself in the soft towel. You dry your hair and open the door walking over to your suitcase, Olivia is already dressed, packing a small bag for the afternoon camera gear spread across her bed.

You rummaging through your clothes for something to wear. You pick out a white linen shirt, an undershirt to go beneath and then a black pair of jeans. You turn back, checking that Olivia is occupied with something else.

“You’re good, I'm not looking.” She notices your glance in her direction.

“Thanks.” You say before you quickly drop the towel before pulling on your underwear and bra. You then pull on your jeans and shirt. “I’m done.” You say to her.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep.”

You walk into the cafe, there’s a small line and a couple of people already sitting. You get in line, looking at the menu, allowing Olivia to translate for you, her being from Quebec coming in handy.

“Hey you two!” You hear a voice from behind you and Janine walks up to you and Olivia, behind her is Jessie who looks less than thrilled to be out of the hotel.

“Hi Janine, hi Jessie.” Olivia greats them both.

“Hi Olivia.” Jessie says, she just glances at you, not saying anything. Janine looks between you and Jessie quickly an eyebrow cocked, questioning the strange behavior.

Guilt flushes through your body, even though Jessie was the one who rejected your offer, you said you would’ve been available in the morning and she hung up. But the way she ignored you felt like you had done something wrong.

Saved from having any further conversation, it’s your turn to order, you order and you then get Olivia’s order, offering to pick up Janine and Jessie’s cost as well, Janine accepts but Jessie quickly interrupts and waves you off saying she’s got it for them.

“Good to see you guys, enjoy your day off!” Olivia says as you both walk out the door onto the street.

Despite the awkward interaction at the cafe, you and Olivia have a lovely rest of the morning and afternoon. You walk around, she takes photos of you, and the scenery but mainly just of you. You talk and talk. Finally your conversations go further than just surface level and about work.

You learn that she had an older sister and two younger brothers, she was born in Quebec but lived in New York for a bit as a kid. She originally wanted to study film production but got an internship as a sports photographer for her university sports department and fell in love with the work. Outside of photography she enjoyed baking but hated cooking. She didn’t like seafood, except for shrimp.

It was easy talking with Olivia, but it didn’t feel the same as your early morning chats with Jessie or the small conversation you’d have when she hung around training late just to be in your company.

Maybe you weren’t into Olivia like you thought you were. Maybe you just wanted her as a friend. She made you feel nothing like how Jessie did. You didn’t have the same nerves around her, you didn’t have the same heart racing when you thought about her, you didn’t have the desire to grab her and kiss her. You didn’t think about what it would be like to sleep next to her, your mind didn’t constantly replay the feeling of her hug. You didn’t want her like that. You didn’t have a crush on her, you just wanted to be her friend, and you were.

The rest of your day was easy, you had lunch before you both were tired enough to head back to the hotel for a nap. Your plans to nap were quickly derailed by watching a movie.

“Come lay on my bed, it’s plenty big and then you won’t be straining your neck.” Olivia offered as she looked at you laying in your own bed, having to lean your head over to see the TV. She pulls back the sheets on the side closest to you and pats the bed.

You get up from your own bed, fix the sheets and then climb into Olivia’s bed, adjust to be comfortable and start watching the movie. Unfortunately the movie being in French meant you weren’t paying attention for too long and your eyelids quickly grew heavy and you fell asleep.

You woke up to the sound of Olivia talking quietly before you heard the hotel room door close. You blink a few times as she walks back into the room.

“Who was that?” You ask, thinking for a second you had maybe missed something important, a meeting or an appointment.

“Just Jessie, she wanted to borrow a camera strap and tripod, I guess she’s going out to take photos. Sorry did we wake you, we tried to be quiet, she was only in the room for a bit.”

Fuck, Jessie had been in the room. You knew you were in for it, if it was anyone else they might not have noticed that you were sleeping in Olivia’s bed, but Jessie was too observant to not notice. There was no way she didn’t notice how your bed was still made, untouched and you and Olivia had both been in hers. She saw you hugging the pillow beneath your head, she saw the fact that you were only dressed in a sports bra and sweats. It looked exactly like what you didn’t want it to look like.

You flopped back into the bed, watching tv with Olivia and trying not to spiral about Jessie until dinner time when you met your Mom to have dinner together. Thankfully getting you out of the team dinner for a night not having to see Jessie who is probably still pissed off with you from this morning and now seeing you in another girl's bed. Your Mom offered to take you to a museum tomorrow, you only had training to attend in the evening, so naturally you agreed.

The next two days without games fly by and before you know it you’re back standing on the sidelines watching the team play in the semi-final game against France.

You let out a sigh as the whistle blew to end extra time and indicate the game was about to enter penalties. Canada and France had both played well, keeping it a tight game 0-0. You watched the coin toss, France getting to kick first.

You stood on the sidelines, arms linked with the other staff, your Mom on one side and Sarah on the other, as you all watched the girls take penalties.

The first French player makes her penalty. Julia steps up, easily slotting the ball into the net. The next French player makes hers as well. Leon takes the ball next, her kick deflected by the keeper, putting Canada behind 2-1. After the third French player misses her kick you watch as the ball finds its way into Jessie’s hands.

You had been nervous watching all of the kicks, but watching Jessie hold the ball made you unable to move or breathe. You watch her, you had seen her take penalties plenty in practice, you had her routine memorized just as you did every other players.

She placed the ball, adjusting it a few times before she was satisfied. She then took her three steps back, and looked down, closing her eyes for a moment. You waited and waited and waited, watching her. It was only a couple extra seconds but you watched as Jessie didn’t look up as quick as she normally did, you also noticed the small shake of her head before she opened her eyes, something she didn’t usually do, and began her approach. She kicked it and you watched as it deflected off the keeper's hands. She had missed.

You watched as she turned back to join her team, head down, not acknowledging as her teammates gave her pats on the back.

Thankfully, the next French player misses her kick as well, giving Canada the chance to tie it up. Janine successfully makes her kick, giving a quick celebration before going back to the line to watch the fifth French player take her kick. Her kick goes off the post and now Chloe steps up to take her kick. She set up, taking the kick and you’re not even sure you saw the ball go in, just the eruption from those around you and the sea of red running onto the field. You follow the rest of the staff, grabbing bottles to bring out to the players. Your eyes scanning for Jessie, you find her, head still down, Janine behind her trying to talk to her, Jessie just walking away.

“Jess.” You hold out a bottle to her.

“Don’t talk to me.” She puts a hand to your chest and shoves you out of the way, causing you to stumble back a step. It was probably a harder shove than she intended, but you get the message. She’s pissed off that she missed, she just needs some time alone. You don’t follow her, letting her leave the pitch as you turn back toward the field where the rest of the team was still jumping around and cheering.

“Don’t take it personally, she’s too tough on herself, she shuts people out.” Janine says, grabbing the bottle you intended for Jessie out of your hand taking a drink of it. “She’ll be fine.” She thanks you for the water, handing the bottle back to you. The team celebrates for a little bit longer before everyone starts moving back to the locker room to change and go to the hotel.

When you go back into the locker room you notice all of Jessie’s gear is gone, what was once her cubby is empty. You go check the treatment paperwork, seeing that she did do her recovery, just with Sarah instead of you and had already checked out of the facility for the night. It didn’t bother you too much that she didn’t do her recovery with you, you were glad she at least still did it, taking care of herself, but she wasn’t the type to rush out, leaving her team behind.

When you get back to the hotel you shower and crawl into bed, feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. You couldn’t get Jessie’s disappointed and angry face out of your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way she shoved you. Janine had said it wasn’t personal but it sure felt like it was.

Olivia climbs into her own bed shortly after you do, she shuts off the lights in the room and wishes you a goodnight. It’s not long before she starts to snore, she snores quietly, not enough to bother you or keep you awake, if anything on the other nights it was like a white noise machine. But tonight it was Jessie keeping you awake. You wanted to text her, to see how she was, to make sure she was okay. But you were keeping your distance, you were staying invisible.

After trying to fall asleep for 3 hours and failing, just rusting around in the sheets, you get up and decide to leave the room, getting out of the sleepless bed would maybe help. You throw on your Canada hoodie and as quietly as possible leave your hotel room. You make your way down to the conference room that had been converted into Team Canada’s meeting room, game room, movie room, whatever activities the players wanted to do in their free time.

There she was, wearing a matching red hoodie, her ponytail making her easily identifiable as she sat at a chair with her head tilted down toward something on the table in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Jessie as you entered the room, not wanting to startle her too much. She was sitting at a table looking at a tablet, a tablet playing her missed kick, over and over and over.

Her head spins around, looking over to you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You tell her.

“That makes two of us.” She replies. You stand next to her, she’s looking up at you.

“You know sitting here watching that over and over isn’t going to change anything.” You point at the tablet in front of her as you watch again the ball go into the arms of the keeper.

“I know, but this is how I handle it. So I’m going to keep watching it. Thanks.” You get the indication that she’s not interested in your company anymore so you turn to walk over to another chair in the corner of the room. You’re about to sit down when Jessie speaks up.

“I missed that penalty because of you, it’s your fault.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming blurb

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flwrstqr · 16 hours

Text

— YOU CAN LOVE ME (OR NOT)

₊˚⊹ notes ~ enemy!riki x !femreader ⋆⭒ warnings: not proofread, kissing, petnames, crying, confession, ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 400+ ꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, high school au ish | AN: enemies to lovers is so riki's trope. like go argue with da wall 🔥| LIBRARY FOR MORE...

AS A PAIR OF ARMS ENVELOPED YOU, you turned to meet Riki's familiar smirk.

"Hi, love," he winked.

"Stop calling me that," you groaned.

"What, love?" he teased, noting your expression.

"That," you rolled your eyes, "And hands off."

"Sheesh," he teased further, "If you say so, love."

"I hate you."

"Hate and love, what's the difference?"

As a pair of arms enveloped you, you turned to meet Riki's familiar smirk.

"Hi, love," he winked.

"Stop calling me that," you groaned.

"What, love?" he teased, noting your expression.

"That," you rolled your eyes, "And hands off."

"Sheesh," he teased further, "If you say so, love."

"I hate you."

"Hate and love, what's the difference?"

"DID YOU HEAR RIKI LIKES SOMEONE?" Minjeong whispered, startling you. You coughed, recovering from your surprise.

"What?" Your heart skipped a beat. "Who?"

"Word is it's Danielle," Minjeong shrugged. "Doesn't matter though, considering how you two can't stand each other. Finally, he'll stop pestering you."

Your throat tightened. "Right, doesn't matter." You forced a smile and walked on with your friend.

IT WAS 9 PM, the chilly breeze sending shivers down Riki's spine as he walked hrough the empty streets that use to be bustling during the daytime. In the distance, he spotted a figure, one he'd known for years, one he'd teased relentlessly each morning. "YN?" he called, noticing tears in your eyes as you turned.

Without any words, you run to his arms, crying into his shirt. Riki stood, watching you cry into his shirt, letting it soak. He didn’t care about his shirt, he just let you cry and get your emotions out.

“Love?” he whispers, a voice you were yearning to hear for the past hour.

"Don't call me that," you mumbled, your face buried in his shirt, his cologne offering solace.

"Why not, princess?" he murmured softly, stroking your hair.

"Just because," you muttered, puzzled by his tenderness. Why was he acting so differently?

"What's wrong, princess?" he inquired, gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

"Nothing," you sniffled, wiping your tears.

"It's definitely something. Tell me," he urged, giving you a small pout.

"Fine, you want to know? Okay. I was crying because Minjeong said you liked Danielle, and I realized how much I liked you, knowing you didn't feel the same because I'm your enemy. I'm sorry for falling for you and how cute you are, and—" Your confession was interrupted by his lips on yours. Frozen, you felt him deepen the kiss, his arms pulling you closer.

As you broke away, cheeks burning, you stared at him, bewildered.

"W-what?" you stammered, trying to make sense of the moment.

"You got some wrong information. I don't like Danielle. I like you. YN LN," he confessed, grinning at your flustered expression.

"You do?" you asked, cautiously hopeful.

"I promise, love," he grinned. "So, are we a thing?"

"Are we?" you echoed, blushing furiously.

"Looks like someone's blushing, so I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled.

"Shut up, you're blushing too."

155 notes · View notes

dancingtotuyo · 22 hours

Text

High Infidelity Part V

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: Tommy is released, but he only pushes you further into Joel's arms.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: prison, mentions of war, fighting, LOTS OF TEARS, emotional and physical affair, cheating boundaries, smut (P in V), Oral sex (F receiving)

Notes: And so we reach the end of this story. I know there's a lot to wrap up. Thank you all for all your amazing comments and thoughts over the last month. It really means the world to me.

I know I say this every chapter but a huge thanks to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. They have beta'ed every chapter one top of listening to me scream about this story for hours over the course of months! I adore you both so much

Words: 7234

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

They warn you that Tommy’s transition home will be difficult. An adjustment period they call it. You prepare for him to struggle, thinking he would try to leave the house in search of trouble, but it’s the opposite. Joel picks him up from work in the morning and drops him off in the evening. Then he goes out on the back deck and drinks sitting out there in utter silence. At first, you join him, letting Nathaniel play in the backyard but he refuses to talk, hardly looks your way. Sometimes he tracks Nathaniel, but not all the time. He seems so far away, like he had those first couple months home after Desert Storm, but he came back to you, as Your Tommy. At least for a little bit.

At night, he pulls you into his arms without a word. He holds you until you fall asleep, but on several occasions, you wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Usually he’s sitting on the bed or standing as he stares out the window. Sometimes you hear him pacing the house. You don’t talk about it. You don’t talk about much anymore except for the weather. He’s ultra focused on the weather it seems.

He hasn’t tried to touch you. Sexually that is. Any kiss he lays on you is chaste almost like it’s his duty, but sometimes you catch more behind it, like he’s pushing down his own desires. When you try to progress things, he walks away.

It hurts. A lot.

You have Julia and Micky over for dinner a month after Tommy’s release. Tommy comes out of his shell a little bit. He wears a smile, laughs with his head thrown back at some inside joke Micky cracks. He looks easy, relaxed for once. Under the table, his hand lands on your thigh sending little jolts of electricity through your body. He’s feeding you more and more loose threads of his old self to hold on to. The ever present tension in your chest eases. You hate that it feels like you can breathe again. A small, small assurance that he will come back to you in time.

Micky and Tommy take the boys outside after dinner. Micky talks about a support group for Veterans he goes to. You watch from the window, you can’t hear them, but you see when Tommy brushes him off, his body going rigid. You try to push it out of your mind, but you already feel the threads slipping through your fingers as you push back tears with a glass of water.

Tommy goes to bed before you that night, but when you slip into bed, he still pulls you into his arms. When you wake up a couple hours later, Tommy stands by the window, gazing out of it like a statue keeping watch.

You don’t usually say anything. You don’t let him know you know he’s not sleeping, but something tugs you into an upright position. “Tommy.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. You get no indication that he even hears you. You throw back the covers, joining him next to the window. You repeat his name, laying a hand on his shoulder. You catch a small twinge in his jaw. “Come back to bed?”

His eyes dart from the moon to his feet. He leans away from you, just enough for you to pick up on it. You can’t ignore the stab of hurt that shoots through your body. Your hands fall back like you’ve been burned. You wish you had the energy to yell at him, fight him, but you don’t, so you crawl back into bed, back turned to him. Silent tears soak your pillow before you fall back asleep.

Tommy’s gaze moves to your still frame, praying for a release from the chains he can’t seem to shake. The ones that he keeps hurting you with, but he doesn't know where to find the keys.

So life continues like that. Weekly dinners with Micky and Julia, glimpses of Tommy and threads that slip through your fingers. Most days it feels like one step forward and two steps back. Your patiences frays, your emotions unraveling each time he pushes you away only to pull you close at the end of the day. You’re not sure what does it, if you’ve reached the end of your rope, completely unraveled, or multiple tantrums Nathaniel threw all day, but when he reaches for you one night, you snap.

“Stop.” You pull out of his reach.

“What’s wrong?”

Dry laughter falls out of you as you roll out of the bed. “What’s wrong? What’s not wrong?”

“Baby…”

“No, you don’t get to try and soothe me!” You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears of the past months from your eyes. You can’t break down right now, in front of him. “You’re pushing me away! I’m trying to be here for you, I really am, Tommy, but I am exhausted! I don’t know what to do.”

He looks away, body looking deflated. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”

“No- Stop,” you hold your hands up. “You know why I’m here. I love you, but love only gets us so far.”

“I’m trying-”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know-”

“People who are trying don’t sit out on the porch and ignore their family every night! They don’t ignore their wife!”

“If that’s how you feel, maybe you should just leave me now!” he snaps. “No need to delay the inevitable.”

It pulls the air from you like a punch to the gut. Tears well in your eyes. “Is that what you want?”

He looks away from you again. You march up to him, grabbing his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Tell me!”

There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re the same eyes you fell in love with, but they’re hollow now. It sends a heartbreaking chill through your body. His eyes fall to the corner, the only way he can get away from your searing gaze.

You drop his face, stepping away before you lose it in front of him. “Okay then.”

You can’t stay here, in the room, in your home. Tommy hangs his head as you flee from his presence. The house rattles when the front door slams behind you. Only then, does Tommy let the apathy bleed out of his body and the tears fall.

A knock on the front door jolts Joel awake. The TV plays lowly, casting harsh light and shadows across the dark living room. He feels confused, disoriented. Another knock pulls him through the fog a little bit. He opens the door to find you, tears streaming down your face. You push past him, crossing the threshold without an invitation. You don’t need one.

“What’s wrong, Darlin?”

You inhale, preparing to let the words out, to scream if necessary, and then your whole chest quivers, and the tears pour out again sending you into a blubbering mess. Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the couch before you collapse right in front of him.

He leaves you for a minute. The faucet runs in the kitchen. Joel sets a cool, heavy glass in your hands, watching over you with concern knit brows. Every time you try to talk, your chest rattles again and tears overpower you.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

You sip at the water, rotating between complete serenity and total chaos. Every time you think you might be able to speak, the words turn into incoherent sobs. Finally, you give up trying to talk until the glass is empty. Joel takes the glass from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. You don’t attempt to talk until your breathing is fully evened out. Joel holds your shoulders, thumbs running smoothly over your skin.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” you say. “All the time.”

Joel frowns. “Tommy?”

“He won’t talk to me.” The tears gather behind your eyes again, creating pressure in your head. You feel the blubbering start to return. “I knew things would be hard, but he just acts like I’m not even there half the time.”

“Is he going out again?”

You shake your head. “No- he’s home all the time, sulking, being mad at the world for whatever reason he can come up with. I’ve tried so hard. I don’t know what else to do.” Hot tears spill from your eyes. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’m used to doing everything alone- but now I’m doing it with a ghost in my home. It wears on a person, and tonight- “ It hurts like citrus in a fresh cut to think about.

“Come here.” Joel sighs, feeling his heartache for you. He pulls you into his chest, allowing you to soak his shirt until it sticks to his skin. His hand caresses your back, doing his best to soothe you as best he can. Though by now, he’s a pro at it.

Eventually, your head falls into his lap. The sobs don't seem to rattle your body the same, but the tears don’t stop.

Annoyance begins to grow in Joel. How many more times does he have to do this before you come to your senses? He thought Tommy’s stint in prison would help, yet here you are still crying on his couch. This can’t keep happening. It’s not fair to you.

Joel loves his brother. He would do anything in this world for him, except when it comes to you. Because Joel loves you too. He loves you more and in more ways than a brother-in-law should. He hasn’t minded being just your brother-in-law and friend until now. You deserve better.

When you finally sit up, wiping the tears from your eyes, he knows he won’t be able to stop the words at the cusp of his mouth.

“What time is it?” You look at the clock on the wall with a sigh. “I should go home.”

“Darlin,” Joel grabs your chin. Your eyes snap to his. There’s a seriousness in his eyes you’re not sure you’ve seen before. “How long are you gonna let him keep doing this to you?”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

You close your eyes for a second. Another tear falls with your eyelashes. Joel swipes it away with his thumb. “What am I supposed to do, Joel? Where would we go?”

“You could stay here until you find somethin.”

A little huff of laughter manages to escape. “Yes, I’m sure Sarah would love having us invade her space when there’s a perfectly good house down the street.”

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to leave him.” You put your hand on Joel’s wrist. “He’s a dick, but I love him.”

“It’s killing me to see you like this. You deserve better.”

He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s something else in his eyes. The way he’s looking at you. There’s a heat in his gaze, something that feels so familiar, but you haven’t seen Tommy in years, the same look you saw that night at the beach. It sends tingles through your bloodstream, little pinpricks of excitement like the night you got yourself off in his bed, said his name and then heard him. You’ve managed to push down the question until now, but you know for certain now. He heard you. You swallow, your breath feeling like it’s being pulled out of your lungs.

Do you tell him what Tommy said tonight? Do you tell him that you heard him that night? Do you tell him you’re being pulled into different directions?

“Joel…”

His hand falls to your waist. The other cups your neck. You feel like you’re falling toward him, helpless to stop the inevitable. “I’ve got you, Darlin.”

He’s been here. He’s always been here for you at the drop of a hat. Your firm foundation when it felt like the rest of the world was sinking. You always assumed you were just a promise he made to his brother, but what he’s been to you and what you’ve been to him, it’s more than a promise to a brother. It’s more than a love for family.

It sparks a flame inside you. You haven’t been looked at like that in years. Haven’t been touched in just as long. Tommy hasn’t made a single move on you since he got out. He’s run every time you’ve tried to initiate something.

Your eyes dip to his lips, centimeters from your own. Joel echoes the statement again, quieter this time as your lips touch his. He shutters under you, lips quick to take over. Arms wrap around your waist. You’re thankful for it. Thankful not to have to think about any of it. Content to let him have complete control as you straddle him.

He inhales with a faint shake to his breath, lips still touching yours. Then, he returns in full force, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth. His hands crawl up your body, greedy and searching. You give in, nails wracking through his hair. Years of pent-up desire behind both of your movements.

You play with the top buttoning of his shirt, popping them open, lightly scraping your nails across his chest. A moan reverberates from his chest. The bulge in his pants grows against your crotch, sending electricity through your veins. You tug at another button before Joel’s hand covers yours. He manages to pull away just barely.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not here.” He pants. “Sarah.”

Your eyes widen, realizing how easily you could’ve been spotted by your niece. Joel caresses your jaw, eyes hooded with lust. He bucks his hips up, brushing your clothed crotch again. You gasp, making him smirk.

His voice is raspy with need. “Gotta get you into my bed, Darlin.”

You barely manage to pull yourself off his lap, your legs feeling like wet noodles. Joel smiles, he grabs your hand, tugging you behind him. He’s quiet on the stairs, eyes glued to Sarah’s bedroom door the entire way up.

His bedroom door clicks softly behind you, your shirt thrown off before Joel can turn around. He lets out an appreciative groan, pulling his own shirt off as he stalks toward you. Want pools low in your belly, the walls of your aching cunt clench. Your breath quickens as he edges nearer, a solid arm wrapping around your waist. His contained erection pushes against you making you grin. “Happy to see me?”

“More than you know,” he growls, kissing you again. Hand roaming your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You moan softly and then a little bit louder. Joel shakes his head. “Music to my fucking ears baby.”

He pulls and tugs at your bra, unable to get it opened to the point you’re worried he broke a clasp. Finally, you pull it over your head and let it land with your shirt. He takes you in, topless in his bedroom for just him to see. You’re a fucking work of art, water to a wanderer in the desert.

He cups one of your breasts, pulls the other one into his mouth. You gasp, head falling back, moisture collecting in your underwear. His thumb plays with your exposed nipples while his tongue swirls over the other. You moan his name softly, being cautious of your volume.

He palms himself through his jeans, switching to your other breast as he does. You fight the urge to fall back on the bed, hands playing in his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He hums softly against your chest, sending an extra wave of pleasure through your body. He pulls back, saliva connecting the two of you, eyes glued to yours. He kisses you until the back of your knees hit his mattress, but he doesn’t let you fall to the bed yet.

“How long has it been?” he says, muffled against your lips. His fingers play with the button of your pants

“What?”

“How long has it been?” He pulls back, the button of your pants popping open as he sinks to his knees.

Confusion flashes through your face until you realize what he’s saying, what he’s asking. You swallow, unsure of how to answer.

“Darlin?”

It’s embarrassing because you can’t remember the last time you were touched like this. You shake your head. “I don’t know. Before?”

The sound from his throat is guttural, almost a growl. He’s been out for three months. Three fucking months and he hasn’t bothered to touch his wife.

Joel tugs your jeans down, pressing a kiss just below your belly button, continuing down to the band of your underwear. Your pussy clenches again, dripping with need.

“Lay down.”

You obey, bottom hitting the soft mattress first and then your back. His smell is everywhere now, seeping into your skin, just as it always has when you curled up in his bed.

His hands run up the length of your torso, tweaking your nipples before sliding down, continuing over your thighs. He pulls your jeans free, pressing his nose to your center. “Smell so good for me, baby.”

Your stomach flutters, hips pressing into his face. He lets out a low chuckle. “I’m going to take care of you, Darlin. Don’t you worry.”

You whine, hands gripping the sheets beside you. “Please, Joel.”

He tugs your underwear down, tortuously slow. His fingers trace down the entirety of your legs. You can see just enough under the hood of your lust-filled eyes. He props both of your legs on his shoulders, pressing slow kisses to the inside of each leg as he edges closer and closer to your core.

When he gets there, he pauses, eyes locking on yours. It’s intentional. You have the urge to cuss him out if he doesn’t put his mouth on you soon. The need is strong enough you could cry or scream of frustration.

Slowly, he spreads your legs, fingers creeping toward your sopping folds. He runs his pinky through them, barely nudging your clit, but it’s enough to have your back arching off the mattress. He grins up at you. He spreads you further. The evidence of your arousal glistens in the dim lights. “Fuck, Baby. So wet for me.”

You bite your lip to keep from yelling at him. “Please, Joel.” Your voice is hoarse and strained already.

He groans, practically falling into your spread pussy. His tongue flattens against you, running the length of your folds. Your hands tangle in his hair, repeated moans falling from your lips, ones you both know you’re holding back for the sake of being quiet. You’re seeing stars and he’s barely touched you.

Joel wants to take his time, savor the moment, memorize every piece of you. He wants to pull you apart piece by piece and put you back together again. He knows he may not get another opportunity again, but you’re addicting. He wants to pull those sounds from you on a loop and feast on your juices. He sucks your clit, swirling his tongue around it, eliciting another glorious moan from you. Each one grows louder until he pulls away for the briefest second and a pillow hits your face.

“As much as I wanna hear you, Darlin. Use that.” He grins. “Don’t hold back on me anymore.”

His mouth is on you, doubling his efforts. Bringing you to the edge of bliss. You’re so close, moans filling the pillow case that smells like him. He inserts a finger, giving you something to clench around, softly brushing against your walls. His tongue laps over your clit and the tension building in you snaps in one beautiful crescendo.

His thumb replaces his tongue as he works you through your orgasm, chest heaving as you catch your breath. “That’s right. Just like that.”

You toss the pillow to the side, locking eyes with him. He smirks at you, pressing a kiss over your hip. He leaves behind some of your juices, his face slick with them. Standing back to his feet, he undoes his belt shucking off his jeans and boxers.

Your breath catches again as you hurry to sit up. He chuckles at you, catching your hands in his as you reach for him, for his cock. He pushes you back down to the bed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “As much as I’d enjoy that, Darlin. It was all I could do not to finish in my pants like a damn teenager.”

Your breath quivers against him, words barely coherent in your brain. He releases one of your hands, reaching into his drawer for a condom.

“Joel, I-” Your hand runs down his side, soaking in the feel of his skin. “Please.” It’s all you can manage. Years of pent-up desire begging to be freed.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on him.

He rips open the foil packet. Your eyes follow his every movement as he rolls it over his cock. Once it’s on he crawls onto the bed, hovering over you, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and stars. He’s your oasis in the desert and you’re his. Your hands roam his back and shoulders and hair. He leans into your touch, soft noises of contentment falling from his lips.

Before you know what you’re doing, you manage to flip him onto his back. His arms fly out, a thunk sounding through the room as his wrist collides with the night stand.

You can’t help the laughter that spills from your lips as you settle on top of him. “Are you okay?”

“Glad to see you’re so concerned for my well being.” He chuckles.

“No- Really.” But you can’t stop laughing. “Are you okay?”

“My watch caught it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Joel smiles, cradling your face in his hands.

You lean down, hands spread over his chest as you press your lips to his. His hands are all over your bare skin again. He shifts your hips, positioning you over him, ready for you to sink down on to him, feel you wrap around him.

You run your thumb over his bottom lip as his eyes roam over your face, breath held in anticipation, waiting for you.

“Are you sure?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Never been more sure.” His hands settle over your hips, holding them softly.

The air seems to evaporate from the room and the world goes silent before you take that final, fatal move and sink onto him. A soft whimper leaves your lips before Joel captures your lips, swallowing it.

The moonlight reflects off his watch face. Neither of you are aware that it’s stopped, sealing your sins under its glass.

You lay in Joel's arms long after you’ve both finished, sweaty and bare. The ceiling fan turns above you offering little reprieve. It’s nice, at first, but the longer you lay there, the longer it begins to sink in, the more you start to feel the stickiness on your skin and the unexplainable need for a shower.

You pull out of Joel's arm’s without a word, eyes searching for your clothes strewn across the room. Why does it feel like the walls are closing in? You need to get out and think.

“Darlin?” Joel sits up, reaching for your shoulder.

“I should go home,” you say, rising to your feet before he can touch you. “I need to go home.”

“I told you you can stay.”

“I need to go home!” you snap, tears glistening in your eyes. This is wrong. It’s all wrong.

“Shit,” Joel’s head drops. He lets out a huff, a hint of sarcasm to it. You grab your shirt, pulling it on, too busy locating your items to pay him any mind. “So that’s it? You’re just going to go back? Nothing’s gonna change.”

Your head snaps up as you pull on your jeans. “This can’t happen.” Your chest shakes. “It shouldn’t have happened, Joel. We both know that.”

“Or maybe it was supposed to.” He slides out of the bed, pulling on his boxers.

“Joel-”

“He doesn’t treat you right. We both know that.”

“He’s my husband!”

“He doesn’t get to walk all over you just because he’s your husband!”

“That doesn’t make this right!”

“It was the most right my life’s felt in years,” Joel says, eyes landing on yours. You bite back tears, trying not to let him get to you as you turn away, but he grabs your wrist. “It always does with you.”

You turn your head away from him without a response.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” His thumbs press into your palm.

You slip his grip. “I love him. I know I shouldn’t anymore, after everything, but I do.”

“I’ve always been here.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” You want to curse as your emotion wells up again. How much can a person take in a single night? “My life would be so much simpler if it was you.”

“It could be.”

“No,” your head shakes. It hurts more than you expect it too. You do love him. You wish it could be him. As if the past three years weren’t enough, you know what it’s like to be with him now, but it’s still Tommy, and you hate yourself for it.

Joel seems to read it in your eyes, the sadness, the acceptance, lingering longing for what could have been. His throat bobbles as he steps back to give you space. You release a slow breath.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don't apologize. I should have known better.”

You cringe. You want to tell him it’s not all on him, but he’s giving you an out. You’re too exhausted not to take it. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Yeah.” Joel moves about his room like he’s searching for something.

You’re not sure if you should say something more, or leave. Leaving would be easier. A clean break, and you take it, but Joel’s voice stops you before you can open the door. “He wasn’t faithful to you.”

Your hand freezes over the door knob, eyes squeezing shut. You can’t do this. You can’t have this conversation right now, but your body is frozen in place.

“I think you should know.”

Nails bite into your palms as you steady your breath, eyes focused on the wood of the door in front of you as rage begins to grow in you. “He already told me, but thanks for dredging that hurt back up three years after the fact.”

“Darlin-”

You spin on your heels. “Fuck you, Joel!”

Joel’s eye’s fly wide. “I just thought you should know!”

“No, you were using that for your own good!” You can’t take this. Joel throwing Tommy’s betrayal in your face years after the fact is its own form of treachery.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I live in a constant state of hurt! You were supposed to be my reprieve!” Your fists shake, voice raising. You don’t care if you wake Sarah, you don’t care if your sins come to light. There’s only so much a person can take in a single night. “If you actually cared about me, you wouldn’t have kept that a secret for years! And you damn sure wouldn’t have used it for your own good!”

Joel doesn’t break eye contact with you, but you see the regret fill his eyes. Fire buzzes in your bloodstream and tears prickle your eyes. You’re not sure how you have any left to shed. In the blink of an eye, you flee from his room and home before he can attempt to draw you back in.

You take the long way home, letting the Texas darkness swallow you whole until you’re ready to go back home.

The house is dark and quiet. You flip on the lamp, a deep tension forming in your head. Tommy sits on the couch, eyes latching onto yours. He looks like a lost puppy. Your breath catches. You must look a mess- eyes stained red, and clothes wrinkled. You worry you smell like sex or Joel, running over the nights happening for any chance Joel left a mark on you- not that Tommy would notice that.

“I was getting worried about you.”

You toss your keys on the end table, throwing off your shoes with a sarcastic huff. “That’s ironic.” Tommy cringes. For once, you’re the closed-off one, too emotionally hardened or drained for his antics.

“I deserve that.”

“Ya think?” You cross your arms.

“Baby…” He eases to his feet. “I’m sorry- for all of it.”

“Sorry? Sorry! What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Tommy!”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It reminds you of Joel. The thought makes your blood run cold. “I don’t know.”

A humorless laugh leaves your throat. “You don’t know?”

“What the fuck can I say? I fucked up. Quite frankly, I don’t know why you’re still here!”

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!”

“Why!?”

The question catches you off guard. “What the fuck do you mean? ‘Why?’”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Wow, you’re on a roll tonight.” Your eyes roll.

“I mean it.”

“Do you want me to leave, Tommy?” Yours and his transgressions filter before your eyes, making you cringe. Two wrongs don’t make a right. “You're done with me and you can’t bring yourself to say it?”

“I’m not good enough for you anymore!” Tears swell in his eyes. “I’ve done nothing but hurt you! But I can’t let you go!”

“I don’t want you to let me go, you big idiot!”

“Why?”

Your eyes flutter shut as you take a deep breath. Joel behind your eyelids. His stability. His care. His love. You could have that, but it would never quench your longing for Tommy. For better or worse, he’s yours. You want him even if it’s bad for you. “I don’t know.”

Tommy enters your space. His arms slip around your waist, eliciting a soft gasp from a place inside you you thought long gone.

“You still believe in me?” He presses his forehead against yours. The callus on your heart starts to lift away, easier than you want to admit. He’s still in there somewhere, the man you fell in love with. You’re seeing more of him than you have in a long time. His hands feel hot against your back and he tugs you closer. You’re compliant under his touch. Whatever he wants from you, you’ll let him have it if he’ll just stays like this.

You sniff back the tears, head nodding. “Yeah. I think I always will.”

“Let me make it better. I’m going to do better, Baby.” His breath is hot on your ear, lips pressing right behind it, and then to the corner of your jaw. Your body takes over as you lean into his touch. “I’m going to be here and present for you and Nathaniel.”

“You promise?” If the Tommy you fell in love with comes back to you, you won’t survive losing him again. You feel his hands in places he’s not even touching, heat sprouting all over your body.

“I promise, Baby.” He kisses your cheek and then your forehead.

You feel the pull of his current tugging you back under, clouding your judgment. You should send him packing or at least to the guest room until you wash his brother’s scent from your skin, but your body calls for him. Tommy’s touch is your addiction, your late nights running wild, your stint in prison.

His breath fans over your face and before you know it, you’re pulling his lips to yours. The undertow sweeps you away, tugging you under the surface. Tommy’s never been the safe option, but you never claimed to need safe.

He tugs you up the stairs. The lock on your bedroom door clicks and he’s on you like a starved man, hands wreaking havoc on your body, pulling clothing from your body like pretty wrapping paper on christmas morning. It doesn’t matter that you were sated well over an hour ago, your body responds to Tommy like a horny teenager. He knows you. He knows how to touch your body just right, he knows exactly how to make you writhe and moan and scream, and he hasn’t forgotten either. He plans to put his memory to good use tonight.

Your hands are as ravenous as his, tugging his hair, at the buttons of his shirt, and pants. His teeth scrapes your bottom lip before he lays you down on the bed, bared to him and the moon streaming through the curtains. He smiles at you. It’s breathtaking.

He takes his dear, sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece and gluing you back together. Each time your brain dares to wonder into forbidden territory, he reminds you why he’s your husband, that he still knows you better than anyone else. It erases the rest of the night from your memory and the last two years until it’s just you and him, coming together as one like it was always meant to be. You and him. Bonnie and Clyde.

He finishes deep inside of you, a feeling you’ve missed. All of it you’ve missed. His skin on yours, sweat mingling together. You lay there staring up at him in awe. He locks eyes with you. He’s there. Your Tommy. The Tommy you see every time you think about him, with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.

He leans down, lips pressing to your forehead. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “I never want to be the cause of these again.”

“Let’s be real, Tommy, you made me cry even when things were good.”

He chuckles, falling beside you. His chest moves with his heavy panting. You think he might be the most handsome man you’ve ever met. “Yeah, suppose I did.”

“You’re gonna try, for real?”

“I’ll probably fuck up here and there.” He gathers you into his arms, skin pressed to skin as you breathe in the same air.

“I know you will.” You tease. He scowls, but it’s all in good fun. Another flash of fresh air, a promise that things could go back to normal.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You laugh, fingers tangling in his black waves. His hair has gotten so long. You wonder if he’ll keep it this way. “It’s gonna take at least that.”

He nods, a hint of seriousness showing in his face. “I know.”

And you know he means it.

“I think you should go to that group Micky mentioned. You need people who understand.”

Tommy shifts slightly. He doesn’t like the idea. That much is clear. “Baby…”

“This is how you do better, Tommy.” The firmness in your voice catches you off guard. Tommy too.

He nods, Adam's Apple bobbing. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Every week?”

“Every week.”

The next morning, you wake up the same way you fell asleep, in your husband’s arms.

Tommy never says a word, but he smells it on you that night. Something familiar, but out of place. It doesn’t belong on you, but he can’t put his finger on it. He knows what it means. He’s no idiot, and he doesn’t blame you for any of it. He’s had his indiscretions. Lord knows you’re allowed yours.

You sit on the front porch with your coffee the next morning, the creaking of the porch swing playing in the background of your racing mind. You feel guilty for all of it. What you did to Tommy. What you did to Joel. But more so, you feel guilty because you know you can keep this buried for the rest of your life if it means keeping Tommy, and you’re pretty sure it makes you no better than him. At least Tommy had the balls to own up to what he did, but Joel isn’t some random girl at a bar. He’s your friend. Tommy’s brother. If it had been some random man, you could own up to it, but not this. Not Joel.

“Aunt Bonnie!”

The familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts as Sarah waves from the sidewalk, other hand clutched tightly in Joel’s.

“Hey!” You force a smile to your face, waving back to her as they climb the porch stairs. She rushes over to you, arms open to give you a hug. You return the gesture, crushing her against your frame. “What’s up?”

“We’re just walking. I wanted to come say hi.”

You kiss her cheek. “Well I feel honored. Nathaniel and Uncle Tommy are inside if you want to say hi to them too.”

“Okay,” Sarah returns your kiss, curls bouncing behind her as she darts inside.

You keep your eyes focused off to the side as Joel’s footsteps draw closer. Your finger plays along the rim of your coffee mug. You feel small, like a child in trouble. Joel eases next to you on the swing, shoulder brushing yours as he does. You bite your lip, knee bouncing softly.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says. “I shouldn’t have let that happen last night.”

Your eyes glaze over. “It’s not all on you.”

“Let it.” Your head snaps toward him. He looks tired, like he didn’t sleep much last night. He clasps his hands together, leaning over his knees. “You weren’t in a good place. I took advantage of that. Let it be my fault.”

Tears glaze over your eyes. He’s giving you an out.

“Joel…”

He nods at you, a silent assurance. You shouldn’t take it, but you do. You lean into it, and it covers the guilt some, even if it’s all lies. You knew what you were doing.

He kisses your forehead as the words leave your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Darlin.” More lies to make you feel less guilty. He’ll feed them to you as long as you need him to.

He stands up, eyes flickering between your door and the way back to his house.

“I can walk Sarah home later.”

“Thanks.” He nods before leaving your front porch. He doesn’t look back.

Things with Tommy don’t magically get better overnight. Life doesn’t work that way. It takes time. It’s gradual, sometimes it feels like you’re moving backward, but slowly Tommy comes back into himself. He’s never the exact man you fell in love with, the one you married, but you’re not the same person either. Time changes things. People grow, but with some work, you find new versions of yourselves that still fit together. Most importantly, this new version is still your Tommy.

Your memories with Joel don’t go away. You keep them tucked deep in your soul, but the two of you find your new rhythm, your friendship too important to lose.

One Year Later

The five of you gather at Joel’s on Sunday morning for breakfast, rotating houses each week. It’s a carry over from the routine you and Joel developed. It’s different, obviously. You and Nathaniel don’t stay the night. It takes time for Tommy to find his place in the well oiled unit the two of you became. It feels awkward and clunky at times, but you get through it and slowly the kinks work themselves out.

Joel bounds down the stairs, hair wet from his shower as he joins you and Tommy around the coffee pot.

“Figured y'all would have breakfast ready by now,” Joel says, squeezing next to Tommy to get to the coffee.

“Last I checked, we’re guests in your house,” you say, quirking an eyebrow, teasing lilt in your voice. Joel’s eyes roll but a smirk quirks his lips none the less.

Tommy hears a ringing in his ears as the scent of Joel’s body wash filters through his senses, still strong on his brother’s skin. His eyes narrow at your and Joel’s banter. There’s nothing unusual about it. He knows you two are close. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows that scent. His mind pulls it from the fading archives quickly. He smelled it on you that night.

Tommy sets his mug down, not saying anything as you and Joel go back and forth over breakfast traditions, the two of you falling into predetermined roles in the kitchen. You dance around each other, like a sixth sense, always knowing where the other one is and where they’re going.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy’s not sure how he hadn’t caught it before. Maybe his brain wasn’t ready. He’s lived a lot of his recent life in a fog, maybe it had just cleared enough now.

He doesn’t catch any longing glances or stolen touches. Everything is above board. He knows he has no right to be angry, not after what he's done. He’d pushed you away. Maybe he even pushed you into Joel’s bed that night. Maybe there were nights before, but he hasn’t smelled another man, hasn’t smelled Joel on your skin since. You’ve spent every night next to him, in his arms, body pressed against his. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs.

He can get past the hurt like you did for him. He can push away the questions. How long did you wait? How often did you find solace in his brother’s bed? He wants to ignore the questions, stomp them down so they don’t fester, don’t ruin what you’ve helped him rebuild.

“Daddy?” Nathaniel tugs on Tommy’s shirt, pulling him from his thoughts.

He smiles, pulling his son into his arms with an exaggerated groan. At five and a half, it won’t be much longer before he’s too big to pick up. It hits again, like a sledgehammer to a cinderblock wall, how much of his son’s life he’s missed. Nathaniel laughs, pressing his forehead to Tommy’s. Is there a sweeter sound in this world?

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“I love you.” He whisper yells.

Tommy chuckles mimicking Nathaniel’s tone. “I love you too.”

Your laugh floats through. Tommy looks up to find you smiling at them, so much love and affection sparkling in your eyes. Something stirs in him, possessiveness, maybe as he strides across the room, shifting Nathaniel to his side so he can pull you flush against him. You melt against him. That’s how he knows, knows you’re still his and he's yours. He won’t ever say a word. He won’t risk losing you again or causing you more grief than he has.

Tommy grins at you, voice lowering to a growl. “And I love you, Momma.” Then he kisses you like he’d reclaiming you.

Neither of you catches the way Joel turns his back and puts himself out of ear shot. You never catch the way his gaze lingers. He conceals the way his fingers itch to touch you like he used to.

Nathaniel squeals in disgust, sliding out of his father’s arms. You both share a laugh and then both Tommy’s arms are tightly around your waist, lips pressed to yours again. Your hands rake through his long curls.

As long as you still look at him like that, continue to touch him like that, Tommy doesn’t care that you fucked his brother. Your heart belongs to him.

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