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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice.

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window.

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman.

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment.

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara?

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning.

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach.

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was…

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying .

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist.

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!"

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring.

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask.

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep.

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him.

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class. She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely.

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day.

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it.

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo.

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it.

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course.

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself.

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall.

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure.

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself.

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here.

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video.

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen.

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all.

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners.

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you.

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs.

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-"

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please."

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers.

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall.

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home.

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions.

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night.

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy??

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water.

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there.

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway.

You wince."...F-Fine?"

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?"

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice.

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further.

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together.

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand.

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee.

"You look… wet."

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze.

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed.

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression. His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds.

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?"

He's got a hand on your arm now, The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details.

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy.

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside.

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word.

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?"

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too."

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same.

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way.

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost.

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand.

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza?

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal.

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy.

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats.

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought.

"Yeah?"

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-"

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!"

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway.

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-"

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips.

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you.

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand.

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close.

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile.

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side.

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular.

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?"

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it.

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty.

"Huh. I guess they do."

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums.

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name.

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch.

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ."

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest.

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-"

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own.

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name."

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing.

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-"

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together.

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest.

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts.

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck.

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum.

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth.

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin.

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt..

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara.

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?"

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?"

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction.

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach.

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel."

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth.

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue.

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole.

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue.

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off.

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily.

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him.

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him.

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs.

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck.

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should.

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head.

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily.

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

edit: the full fic xx

#i am very very close to making this a full fic #(implying that this isn't alr basically a full fic lmfao)#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 x reader

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queers-gambit · 8 months

Text

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto angst #the bear #the bear fx #fx the bear #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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blushweddinggowns · 10 months

Text

Idea expanded, Rockstar Eddie falling head over heels for Bartender Steve working in a high class club type of joint. He sees him working one night and thinks God damn, he's hot. I'm taking him home tonight.

Except bartender Steve has developed a significant distaste for celebrities and rich people in general because of getting cut off from his homophobic parents for coming out and the general bad way many have treated him at work whilst sloshed. But lucky for Eddie, Steve doesn't recognize him. And even though he started off in a trailer park, the fame has gone to his head a little and he asks Steve out with the full intention of getting into his pants and never seeing him again.

But oh no, would you look at that Steve isn't easy. And what Eddie thought would be a booty call ends up being a ten hour date around the city where he has more fun than he even thought was possible. Just from talking with Steve about anything and everything, flitting to parks and museums. And Eddie doesn't even realize until he's back at his hotel that they didn't even kiss.

And they go out more and more, and Eddie likes him more and more and he finds out where the rich people hate comes from. And it scares him. So he keeps lying. Like an idiot. And he tells Steve a fake last name, he tells him a fake job (which is only half fake because he did used to be a tattoo artist) and he rents an air bnb that he pretends is his own place. And the lies keep getting more elaborate to cover up more lies. And he keeps refusing to meet Steve's friends out of fear that they'll recognize him. And he really just drove himself into a corner here because he is absolutely in love with Steve at this point but how the fuck can you have a normal relationship when you are pretending to be someone else?

Turns out you can't, and Steve finds out the truth despite his efforts. But the twist is, he thinks it's fucking hilarious. After a normal period of What the fuck reaction time he gets over it. But never let's Eddie live it down.

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

6/27 Edit: Welp, now there's a fic.

Two fics actually. The other is by KikiZ on ao3 which is great if you're not looking for an explicit fic! Because mine will be. It's also a bit more introspective than what I got going on, and also thus far, hella romantic.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic idea #that i am getting too interested in #rockstar eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #just...ideas #we're just talking #steddie drabble #steddie fic #i just like the twist of avoiding classic angst #i find it very funny #all that work and stress and axiety #just for your boyfriend to call you a dumbass with affection #it...intrigues me #if I did write this I think a one shot basis could work #in theory #just in theory

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 month

Text

Losing Dogs

Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.

Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/misarrange, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.

As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.

He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.

You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.

Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing the room.

The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.

He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.

The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.

He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.

He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!

"I managed a cup."

Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.

He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."

Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.

Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"

You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."

His eye twitches.

I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.

Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.

He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?

You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.

He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.

"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"

Again, his eye twitches.

And then he realizes what you mean.

Ah. So, this is what you wanted?

He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.

He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.

When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.

You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."

He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."

With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"

You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."

He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.

You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.

Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.

"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"

His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.

"-and I will grant you all your wishes."

Aegon ticks.

The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.

You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.

Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.

In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.

You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.

You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.

You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.

Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."

His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.

Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.

In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.

And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.

He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.

You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.

He fucking goes to sleep.

You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.

The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.

It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.

Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.

So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."

You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"

Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?

You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."

He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"

You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."

He doesn't trust your smile.

"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."

"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"

You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."

Aegon pulls his hand away.

Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.

Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.

He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.

He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.

He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.

You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.

But then he found your flaw.

Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.

It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?

"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.

Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.

"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"

Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."

She strikes his cheek.

Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.

"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."

Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.

He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.

He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.

This was all Aegon's doing.

His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.

Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.

"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.

Aegon looks back.

You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."

Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.

"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"

You don't respond.

Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.

"We could jump together."

"What?"

Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."

Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.

He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?

"I am," you mutter.

Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.

"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."

Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"

You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."

Aegon does not respond.

"I can sing though."

His brow raises, "how can you sing?"

"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."

He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

"No."

"..."

"Would you like me to hold you?"

"..."

You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.

You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.

Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.

Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.

Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.

Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.

When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?

And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.

He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.

He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.

He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.

Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.

Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him then pulls you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.

He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.

He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.

He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.

"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.

You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."

He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."

Your expression drops, "what?"

He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.

He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"

"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.

"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.

He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.

"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."

Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."

You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."

He kisses you back.

He is blindsided by how his wishes come to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.

He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"

"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.

Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.

He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his kids at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.

He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.

"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."

Your face falls.

Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.

"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.

He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."

You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."

When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.

Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.

He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.

He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.

Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.

"Husband," you curtsey.

Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.

You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."

Aegon looks at you.

"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."

His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.

"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."

His eyes widen.

"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."

Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.

He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."

Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.

His eyes are glassy. You pull away before you can kiss him back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."

His heart thumps as you walk away.

Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.

He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.

"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.

Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.

"Aegon-"

"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"

You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.

He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.

"Aegon," you mutter.

"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."

"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."

His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.

"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.

He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"

Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"

"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."

The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.

Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.

The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.

He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.

You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.

Aegon turns to you.

You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."

Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.

When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.

He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.

"Aegon-"

"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."

You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.

"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."

Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.

"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."

"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.

Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."

You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.

"I love you," he confesses.

"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."

"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."

His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."

Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."

"But I do hate this life I live."

He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.

"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."

"I made you miserable."

You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.

"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."

Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.

"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."

Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."

You sob and turn to your feet.

"Please... believe me."

You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."

You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.

A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.

He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."

You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."

"It was a long time coming."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."

He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."

You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."

Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.

You take a step back.

"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."

"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."

Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.

You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."

He knits his brows, "I'm looking."

"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."

Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.

He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"

Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.

Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.

Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.

Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?

When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.

Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"

"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."

"An accident?!"

Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

#aegon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen #aegon smut #aegon angst #aegon targaryen angst #house of the dragon angst #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii fanfic

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teenycabb · 2 years

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that feeling when you sit down to work on you fanfic that really should have been done ages ago only to realize that during the process of writing the timelines have shifted, so one part of the story is actually much further than the other and it’s throwing off the whole rhythm of writing and you have to decide if it’s worth trying to fix, or to just say fuck it and leave it as is.

#writing things #my god #i just want this fic done #then it can stop breathing down my neck #i want to just say fuck it #because the shift started in chapters that have already been posted #and i refuse to go back and edit them #but my dumb brain is fighting me

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peterparkerslefttesticle · 2 years

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Fuck or Die

a peter parker sex pollen fic

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: peter comes into contact with sex pollen and his best friend wants to take away the pain

NO MINORS!!!!

not edited

“stay the fuck away from me. please,”

it had been a week since you’d seen your best friend, peter. he’d been away on a mission, along with a few other avengers.

being the baby of the team, you definitely weren’t told everything. or anything really, if it didn’t directly affect you.

“just tell me what is going on!” you screamed at the quarantined boy, voice muffled through the thick glass.

peter was crying at this point, an all consuming burn firing through his veins, predominately the veins down low.

“sweetheart come with me. your not helping by screaming at him,” tony tried peeling you from the hall, but you stood your ground

“why does no one tell me what’s happening? when are you guys going to stop treating me like a baby, i’m 18 for fucks sake!” now peter wasn’t the only one crying.

out of the corner of your cloudy vision you could see his form cowering in the corner, convulsing almost.

“please! he’s my best friend. i deserve to know what’s going on!”

“it’s not about us keeping information from you. it’s just that this is… sensitive.” stark’s brow wrinkled, stress emanating from his form.

this time when he pulled you away, tou didn’t fight.

sensitive?

what could possibly be sensitive enough that you can’t know why your best friend looks like he’s about to die???

once in the lab, you and the iron man sit down.

“look kid, something happened on our mission,”

“yeah no shit,” if looks could kill, stark would’ve murdered you months ago. but probably gotten wanda to resurrect you so his steely gaze could kill you again now.

“i’m serious. parker was doing recon in one of fisk’s bases while we fought his men outside. he found a thing… some sort of explosive gas. when he picked one up for closer inspection it erupted.” tony looked apprehensive, almost waiting for an eruption of his own.

“ok. i’m just gonna say it. sex pollen. it was sex pollen. there’s no way around it. peter exploded a sex pollen bomb.”

the way your jaw unhinged looked inhumane. “WHAT?” you gaped. “like, that weird shit from fanfiction? like the weird shit that makes someone fuck or die? are we in the fucking omega verse right now???”

“i’m going to pretend i know what the omega verse is,” the man clears his throat, “but uh, kind of? he won’t die, but unless he… y’know.. he’ll just kind of be in an unimaginable state of pain for the next,” he checks his watch, “22 hours.”

it took a minute to process the aforementioned information. peter had been affected by sex pollen? you guessed that explained his need to be away from you. but imagining your poor peter in pain for almost another day?

“so why aren’t you doing anything? wait that came out wrong.”

this was probably the most awkard conversation you’d had with tony, even after he caught you “making out” with brad in senior year.

“i meant to say, what’s being done to help him? surely there’s something. i know it’ll pass but fuck, i can’t live with myself knowing pete’s in that room hurting.” you felt a pit of guilt lounging in your gut.

wait it was guilt right? why does your guilt feel like it’s… lower… than it should be.

were you seriously fucking TURNED ON from thinking about your best friend being so horny that it hurts? well, if you worded it like that, yeah.

“we offered him… services. not from us obviously. like, paid services. or anything he wants. but he refused. something about ‘respecting women’ yada yada yada.” stark jests, but you can see the fatherly worry seeping out.

with out another thought, you leave tony in the lab and spring back to parker’s quarantine unit.

“pete you need to accept help! look at yourself” he was worse for wear, even since you saw him 10 minutes ago

his suit was half off his body, which was dripping with sweat. and as much as you tried to ignore it, a large bulge had appeared through the fabric.

he could barely meet your eyes, his own bloodshot, hair matted to his forehead.

“you know i can’t. i can’t control my strength like this. i could hurt someone.” the spider cried out

“not me,” your eyes finally lock. “you can’t hurt me. you know that. we’ve trained together. i’m stronger than you.”

your powers may have made your life a living nightmare, but the strength was definitely a plus. you had sparred countless times, and not once had he hurt you. or beat you for that matter.

“i- i can’t” his voice broke as his body convulsed once more, ungloved hands going to cover his dick.

“if you want to, you can. I’m here pete. I don’t want to see you like this. And i don’t want you to worry about all your moral shit. your not taking advantage of me. your not going to hurt me. i want this. i want to help you, if that’s what you want.”

silence. a few beats go by, before a small “please” meets your ears.

in a blink of an eye you slide your hand over the sensor, unlocking the door to his cell.

your heart broke to a million pieces seeing the broken boy. if you didn’t know better you would have assumed he was succumbing to a deathly injury.

“curtains. there’s curtains.” he gestures to blue hospital curtains that have the potential to cover the glass wall between them and the hall way.

as you pull the curtain, the last thing you see is a worried/disgusted/embarrassed tony. poor guy. knowing his ‘son’ and new recruit were about to get it on.

“FRIDAY, lock down and sound proof the floor once i get in the elevator.” tony yelled, mumbling something about ‘for the good of mankind’.

you drop to your knees next to peters warm frame. the restraint he used to not fuck you right there looked painful.

“If you want this, I want this. I would do anything for you spidey. even if it means fucking my best friend into oblivion,” you say to him, a strained chuckle leaving his chest.

“i won’t be able to stop. i would rather go through this a hundred times then hurt you or screw up our friendship.”

“you won’t. i can handle it. please fuck me pete.”

he turns to a rabid animal with the speed he meshes your lips. the carnal devouring of your face dials up your arousal, and he can smell it.

“wow. you’re fucking sick. getting turned on by your best friend in pain,” he mumbled into your neck, trailing teeth and tongue down your décolletage.

you couldn’t even form a response, to focused on the way his bear chest felt under your fingers, and the way his boner grinded into your crotch.

practised hands pop open the buttons of your shirt, and i clasp the bra you donned. thank god you wore a nice one today.

“mmm pretty bra. planning on fucking brad later?” the boy teased.

“only you. always you.” you grinded harder onto his cock, frustrated at the layers separating you.

“fuck i’ve always dreamt of fucking you. fucking you so good. so so good” a piercing cry leaves your lips as he bites your nipple, kissing it better after.

his tongue was magic, working its way all over your chest. he groped and grasped your breast, alternating one in his mouth, one in his mouth.

even with all his talk, you could see his facade fading.

“peter just fuck me. i know you need it.”

“but what about yo-“

“pete i’m soaked. i’m fine. i just want to make you feel better.” with this, he lets you take charge. he (attempts) to rip his suit off while you pull down your sweats, and eventually a lacy pair of panties.

a guttural groan leaves his lips when he sees the glistening mound before him, he goes to put his mouth forward, but you stop him, kneeling over his lap despite his whine.

“i told you. this is about you. making you feel better.” you laughed at his pathetic attempt at removing the sweat soaked suit.

you pull it down just enough to reveal his angry member. it was thicker than you were used to, longer as well, and a small wave of fear rolled through your stomach.

his dick was red, twitching and leaking. you could practically feel his pain just by looking at it.

he hissed when you slid him up your slit, soaking it with your juices.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered as he slammed your hips down onto him. the scream you let out would definitely surpass stark’s soundproofing.

tears stream down his face at the relief of your silk pussy embarrassing his dick. but he didn’t have long to revel in the comfort. he continued to slam into you with a brutal pace. the erotic wet sounds were enough to put porn to shame.

both of your faces contorted with the pleasure.

“fuck spider you’re fucking me so good. i wanna make you come. want your cum to fill my pussy so good.” his pace was so bruising that his groin pounded into your clit with every thrust.

you couldn’t warn him of the imminent coil about to burst as you gushed around his erection. no noise came out of your mouth except for the unholy moans and expletives.

something you never expected about pete, was his vocalness in bed. god, you would be imagining his noises for weeks to come, hand between your legs.

he was louder than you, which you didn’t think possible, though none of it was legible. his broken words were drowned out by his heavenly moans. with every thrust there came a new ‘ugh’, ‘ngugh’, and ‘fuhhh’.

and god did it get you going.

just listening to his groans had you verging on another orgasm. and he wasn’t too far behind.

peter kept repeating the words “soon” and “close”.

“god pete your so hot. so good to me. fucking me so good. please come baby. i want your cum to fill me up so good. need it baby. need your cum.” you slammed your hips down to meet his every movement, chasing the fast approaching high.

“i’m coming. coming. gonna come,” and with the most dirty, unholy, erotic noise ever made before, peter came.

you could feel the warm seed filling your cunt as you reached your peak, fucking his cum deeper into your cavity.

peter collapsed almost immediately, chest heaving as he sprawled onto the cold foor. you followed in suit, falling flat onto his chest, dick still sheathed inside.

it was deadly silent for at least 5 minutes, and you were sure he had fallen asleep until you head him say “i didn’t hurt you did i?” he lifted your body up, allowing his softened member to leave your body.

“i told you i could handle it, and i did.” you looked up to meet his tired eyes “you didn’t hurt me pete. and even if you had it would have been worth it. how are you feeling now?”

you brushed some hair out of his face, his soft breath brushing against yours. “god i feel so much better. i’m forever indebted to you. that hurt like a bitch.” he chuckled and closed his eyes. “seriously though, thank you. i don’t know what i did to deserve a friend like you.” he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, both of you choosing to ignore the bear skin and leaking fluids pouring you of your pussy.

he whined when you got up, and for a second you thought he would pull you back down. you entered the joined bathroom to get towels.

with gentle hands you soaked up the sticky substances residing over parker’s stomach “i think you’re gonna need this dry cleaned.” you mention, staring at the very stained suit.

he jerked when you gently wiped his cock, but relaxed into your touch nonetheless.

“i think we permanently traumatised mr stark,” peter chortled as he pulled your now clean body into the folding cot that lay in the room.

you giggled with him “yeah, i’m pretty sure even with the soundproofing the entire tower could hear you.” you smirked

the boy turned beet red, and nestled his face into yours, “hey! it wasn’t just me!”

the two of you spent the rest of the night on the small bed, neither with the strength to leave the room.

peter fell asleep first, but you stayed up a little to ponder the future of your friendship after today. however confused you may be, one thing was definitely sure.

there was no way you weren’t fucking peter parker again

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #fanfiction #smut #marvel #marvel smut #the avengers #avengers smut #andrew garfield smut #tom holland smut #tom holland

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 7 months

Text

Butter

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻‍♀️

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️

September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.

It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.

If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.

You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.

‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’

You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’

‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’

Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’

‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’

You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’

‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’

Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’

‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’

You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down.

Especially when the man looks like this.

Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’

‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern.

‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’

When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’

‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’

He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’

‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.

He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’

‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’

He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’

‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’

‘Two, actually.’

Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.

Interesting.

You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’

‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’

Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’

The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’

You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’

You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.

Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’

‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’

While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.

Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’

You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’

Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.

The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.

There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.

‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.

‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.

You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’

He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’

‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’

If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.

‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’

Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’

He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.

‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’

He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’

Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’

‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.

You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips.

‘Can I, now?’ he teases.

You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’

Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.

‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’

He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’

You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’

He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’

‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’

He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’

You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’

Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’

You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’

‘Sarah.’

‘What colour does Sarah like?’

‘Any and all shades of pink.’

‘I can work with that.’

Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’

Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’

Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’

He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’

You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.

‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.

Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘

‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’

‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.

You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’

‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.

‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’

‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’

‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’

‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.

‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.

‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’

Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.

‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.

‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’

‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’

Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.

You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’

‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’

‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’

‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’

‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’

Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.

‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’

‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’

‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’

‘You been?’

‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’

You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’

‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’

‘Fourth, actually.’

He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’

‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’

He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’

You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’

When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’

‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.

Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’

‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.

‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.

'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.

'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.

You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.

Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard.

You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out.

‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’

He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.

You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.

‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.

But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’

Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’

‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’

Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’

When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.

‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.

‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’

‘I like the sound of that.’

‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’

You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’

Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’

You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’

You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’

‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.

He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’

‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’

Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’

‘How?’

Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’

‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’

‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.

You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’

He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’

Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’

Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’

More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...

The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻‍🍳

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #no outbreak au #joel miller oneshot #the last of us oneshot #fuckyeahshorts

2K notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 24 days

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escape to paradise • e. jaeger: part one

spoiling your husband for his special day turns into a surprise, he’ll soon never forget

themes + things: musician x influencer au, slight angst at the beginning, mentions of illness and death, lots of humor and fluff, eren being a grouch about his birthday, soft but disgusting smut, equal parts porn and plot, alcohol and drug use, aphrodisiacs, consensual groping, handjob, oral sex (m. receiving), riding/reverse cowgirl, many other things

word count: 5.9K

I’m a few days late on this but honestly, it really does not matter. I’m not going to abandon another wip bc I ‘didn’t make it on time’. Besides, this site is lacking serious depth in its fics and I’m just so proud of this one. It’s going to be two parts just bc keep reading lines + anything that’s not a one liner post with ten men's names attached seems to scare the girls. Also, I feel as though I haven't written anything this lengthy or for my fav ship in a very long time so forgive me if the quality is not as great as others, I’m getting my bearings back and I hope that y’all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Birthdays. A momentous occasion for many..often dubbed as ‘another trip around the sun’, they find themselves grateful to be growing old in a world where it’s not guaranteed you’ll see the next day. Some choose to celebrate with extravagant parties and lavish gifts, others prefer a casual kickback with loved ones and a grocery store cake. It doesn’t matter as long as you do something to mark the occasion…however, for others …

“Yeah, just come by later. I can take a look at it after I finish up this other job—yeah yeah, for sure, dude. I got you—“

it was another day on the calendar! That sentiment rang true for the man who had been spending his past seven years holed up inside of a studio on his special day. EJ The Don, just as infamous for his anti-social, despondent behavior as he was for his amazing music, harbored absolutely no desire to be in some crowded club or party, surrounded by people who couldn’t give a shit less about him or his well-being the other three hundred sixty four days of the year. He was adamant on doing one thing and that was being left the hell alone. But even for his wife, (y/n) (l/n), who often mirrored his beliefs in terms of dealing with the public, was determined to make his day one to remember, whether anyone else was involved or not. However, the only person standing in the way of Eren’s relaxation and free time…was Eren himself! You were currently on your way to bring him some dinner you had made, in an effort to not only allow him a sabbatical but to ease the impending conversation that had been plaguing your mind onto him. You had finished up filming and editing some content in your own office not too long ago and was ready to call it a night. Sadly, the concept of rest didn’t quite register with your husband. He was a workaholic, through and through..hence why you were about to offer him a proposal and hoped that he didn’t refuse. Shifting the warm plate of homemade mashed potatoes, steak and lots of steamed broccoli into your opposite hand, you’d leave two faint knocks against the door.

“Can I come in?…”

the question seemed to startle the musician a bit as you heard him shuffling around and trying to lower the volume on his phone. He’d stutter a bit and ask that you give him just a minute. The whole thing seemed rather suspicious and make no mistake, you trusted your husband wholeheartedly but he was by the far, the most horrible liar you’ve ever met! A majority of women would jump to the conclusion of infidelity if placed into this exact scenario. They’d see it as a blatant phone call to a mistress or something related…that he had something to hide. But you? That was the furthest thing from your mind. It honestly was never even a worry of yours. He constantly reminded you of the fact that he was blessed enough to even bag you, he damn sure wasn’t going to test his luck and lose you by stepping outside of marriage and for someone like him, cheating took entirely too much work! Instead, you knew exactly what was going on and although, the severity was nowhere near that of another woman on his line, you were still angry nonetheless…finally, he’d give you permission to enter and once he did, you were met with that very toothy, shit-eating grin that he loved to feed you, along with a nervous cackle when he was doing something wrong. You could read his ass like a book!..

“H-hey princess. Don’t you look beautiful tonight—“

standing before him in an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts and a silk bonnet atop your head, (y/n) placed a hand on your hip whilst brandishing his food in the other. He could immediately sense the trouble he was in and decided to face you fully; spinning his chair around. He had no other option that to face the scolding that awaited him.

“Don’t ‘hey, princess’ me, Eren Michael. You know good and damn well you shouldn’t be up here this late. It’s almost midnight, you haven’t eaten anything since this morning and I heard your lil’ phone call. You just accepted another job, didn’t you..didn't you?!”

the reaction may have seemed a bit drastic and maybe you were being dramatic about the whole situation but for valid reason! Truth be told, he had no reason to be working so late into the night…his major projects and songs were completed for the time being so he could afford a break. Secondly, he shouldn’t have even been accepting outside work…especially considering what had transpired less than three weeks ago. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, that much was apparent and the last thing he wanted to do was go tit for tat with you at the moment. That was unless he wanted a tongue lashing out of this world and to be sleeping in the guest room for the next month. He wasn’t going to risk it but in true Eren fashion, he had to make an argument somehow..

“So what if I did? Babe, it’s just a small favor..it’ll take me less than an hour to do this and then I’m seated for the rest of the weekend. I can’t just not work..shit, still got bills to pay.”

nonchalantly declaring as he turned back to his computer, clicking away at the keys. Meanwhile, you’d take a seat next to him and place his food down also. Your intention was to never halt Eren from making his money or working. The two of you agreed that neither of you would ever stand in the way of one another’s careers or financial opportunities. They were something each of you had agreed upon that would remain sacred. However, when said ‘financial opportunities’ had caused quite a commotion in the household and it wasn’t just some minor incident, it was one that quite literally nearly turned your world upside down. All in a matter of minutes…

“...and what’s more important? Work or your own health?..because you seem to value it a lot more.. ” as you spoke the words into the air, you’d begin to choke up also. It was then that you’d replay the events from earlier in the month that made you nearly lose all control and every shred of your sanity..

flashback: two weeks ago…

“..911, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes! My name is (y/n) (l/n)..address is 9432 South Pointe…”

it was a call that you never hoped to have to have to make in your life. All too well had you known the horrors of having to cart a loved one off to the hospital via an ambulance after a terrible health scare and you never wanted to experience that again. But alas, here you were… frantically pacing the kitchen floor of your three story home, clutching your phone as you spoke with operators to dish out the reason for your call. (Y/N) had just returned from your routine morning run with you and Eren’s two dogs. It was something you’d do every single day as part of your workout regime. Not to mention, it gave you quality time with your fur babies. It was also a ritual that Eren would join you in and you guys would circle the spacey area; being as if you had no neighbors, with leashes in one hand as you jogged alongside one another. For one reason or another, Eren decided to hang back, saying that he was going to pass on the run. But would instead, have breakfast ready for you two once you got back. You didn’t think much into it, considering the fact that he had been working late into the night and more than likely needed some extra rest. However, you couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion gnawing away at your conscience.

‘I’m fine, princess. You go ahead, just be careful, okay?’

you guys agreed it’d be best to shorten your route whilst you were alone. Although, any would be assailants, hoping for an easy target would not only be met with the bloodthirsty wrath of two very protective pit bulls, that would tear them from limb to limb…but a woman who loved to fight and could do so very well. Not to mention, you never left home without some form of protection on your persons. Needless to say, you didn’t have any reservations about going out with your lonesome. Little did you know though…the true threat was waiting back home. Because it wasn’t a full ten minutes into your run did both Chino and Chanel begin alerting back to the house..they refused to go any further and instead, tugged at their leashes to go back. You were confused but your babies never led you astray.

“What’s wrong y’all? Do y’all wanna eat—“

That’s when you made the discovery…an unconscious Eren, lying on the kitchen floor! He was out cold, no signs of a break in, struggle or even a crime at all. It was odd. He was clutching his phone and when you turned it over, it was set to call you. You had not the slightest idea what had happened but the only thing you were concerned with was getting him the proper help. After answering a series of questions to the best of your knowledge, the kind and very helpful dispatcher informed you that an ambulance was on its way along with a police car, just in case. They arrived in only minutes and although that was something you certainly wasn’t used to in your early life, you were thankful. When they got there, they checked him over and by the grace of the heavens alone, he still had a very strong pulse but he was out cold. Unresponsive by sound but would faintly squeeze fingers..it was one of the better scenarios but still frightening nonetheless. The cops asked if anything suspicious happened and you told them that you’d only gone for a walk when your dogs kept pulling you back and that’s when you saw your husband. They determined that there was nothing criminal taking place and soon, left without incident. Only sending well wishes to Eren.

but now, you were tasked with trying to figure out what had happened to Eren! Once they loaded him up; still dressed in his sweats and no shirt, house slippers on and his hair down, you’d be right by his side in the back of the rescue. Clutching his hand, you clung to him as they checked all the necessary things and started IV’s. His vitals were a little concerning to say the least. An elevated heart rate, a spike in body temperature and what seemed to be cold sweats. They asked about any drug use, drinking…anything of the sort. You had only known Eren to smoke weed and have the occasional drink but nothing crazy. But it wasn’t until you arrived at the hospital, got checked in and a plethora of tests were conducted, would you truly know the extent of his condition and what you heard shocked you…

“Vaso…what?” “Vasovagal syncope..in other words, he’s collapsed from severe exhaustion and stress and is currently comatose. The good news is, he’s still mentally responsive. Right now, he’s just in a deep slumber. This is one of the more severe cases so he may be out for a few days. But as long as there’s no significant drop in vitals or brain activity, he should be fine.”

the doctor overseeing Eren’s care was rather helpful but seemed so nonchalant about something that had rattled you to your core. Your sweet, beloved husband was lying here unconscious and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it! You’d alert his mom, friends and you guys’ bosses. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before gifts and well wishes, along with media attention began to pour in. It was overwhelming to say the least…you rarely left his side for those three days. Barely even long enough to eat, shower and grab a change of clothes. When he finally came to, that breath that had remained hitched in your throat had finally released. You were terrified of what the alternative could have been so you were thanking God that he was okay. “Eren! Oh my God..” immediately bursting into tears as you flung your arms around him and sobbed. You were so relieved but so damn scared…how could he scare you like that?!

“Aw, princess. I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to worry you, baby. I’m fine..”

“Well you sure have a hell of a way of showing it. I’m so mad at you..don’t you ever do that stupid shit ever again!…”

Which was a very understandable reaction but your tears overshadowed that. The reality was that he was not close to being anything of the sort. His condition was a lot more urgent than before. As this wasn’t the first time he’d collapsed from exhaustion. Long nights in a studio to wild performances and dangerous habits to boot. So many moving elements went into being the rap sensation that everyone knew and loved but they only got the finished product and not the hard, strenuous work it took to get there. This industry was a machine and each artist, creative or talent that entered was a mere cog on the wheel. It was brutal, disgusting and once it was done with you, it all but possessed the power to spit you out when it was done. So naturally, you weren’t so apt to let him follow the same path once he recovered. The pain you felt whilst seated next to him, hearing machines beep as they monitored his unconscious body and fed him necessary sustenance…it was overwhelming. So you made a vow right then and there, that you wouldn’t allow him to work himself into an early grave. A promise to both him and yourself that you’d take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor..before it was too late.

end flashback

“Look, I’m not tryna’ tell you what to do but I’m just worried. You scared the hell out of me, Eren..I don’t want to come in here and find you like that again. What if next time it’s too late?…”

he could sense the imminent fear in your eyes and the sadness spread across your face. In truth, Eren had never had to think about the consequences of his actions and another person’s feelings towards them. It would explain his very careless actions and reckless behavior. He’d stay in this room for hours and no one would check in on him, other than housekeeping. He could drink until his liver corroded and no one batted an eyelash. He was free to do as he pleased but now, he had you..and there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d let him continue down this destructive path. You loved him far too much for that..by this time, he had thanked you and snatched up his dinner. He always loved your cooking far more than any private chef or restaurant. The fact that you took time out of your own busy schedule to make sure he was eating and taken care of was something that he’d always be appreciative of. Setting it down, Eren would swallow his bite and wipe his mouth before rolling his chair towards you.

“..there won’t be a next time, I promise. Listen, I’m sorry, princess. I know I’ve been moving a lil’ careless lately. But I won’t keep putting you or myself through that. After this, I’m taking a break. No more projects, no more studio sessions…just me and you.”

which was the perfect segway into why you’d come in here to begin with. See, he wasn’t the only one who had been grinding to get what he wanted. Not only was Eren a workaholic, he’d always made it his mission to spoil you rotten. In his eyes, he was the provider so he had to make sure you were kept in every aspect of your life. He didn’t want you spending your money on anything other than leisure. As long as the two of you remained together, he was going to protect you. However, you were adamant on sharing the responsibility. Not so much in the sense of splitting expenses fifty fifty or taking on a ton of bills. But rather..you wanted to take care of him for once. Spoil your husband and make sure he knows just how much you loved him. And not a moment too soon because a rather special occasion was nearing the corner.

“Your birthday is in a few days and I was thinking…what if you and I left the country for a bit?”

the statement catching him off guard but you’d be quick to explain. “No distractions, no parties, no work. Just complete relaxation. Just like you wanted. It’s perfect timing. Do you remember what you told me in the hospital?” Flashing him a warm grin as you giggled and held his hand. That’s when the conversation replayed in his mind. Once he had awoken, Eren’s outlook had shifted. When the doctor informed him that his condition was due to stress and exhaustion, he was truly frightened as well. Realizing that his careless actions could land him in a coma or much worse if he didn’t start taking care of himself. That’s when he began to think more so along the lines of recuperation. What could he do or where could he go to truly decompress for once? That’s when he made a great suggestion in his medically induced state of mind, rambling as morphine and narcotics coursed through his veins. With tears building at his waterline and his eyes barely opening..

“I just wanna go lay up on an island somewhere…kick my feet up with your ass in my hands and watch the water. I’m so tired of all of this…deadlines and shit. I’m so tired of working for this machine, man..I just wanna escape.”

you hadn’t forgotten those words and you’d make certain that his dream came to fruition. So without his knowledge, you’d footed the bill for a very special, illustrious getaway to the islands. A week-long stay in a secluded island suite in Fiji..surrounded by beautiful blue waters, palm trees and flowers, and the best part? No other guests. You’d have an entire portion of that area to yourselves. He’d bring in his birthday just the way he had hoped for! “Yeah, but you know I can’t do that. I was just talking—“ “Well be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.” Retrieving your phone from your pocket, you’d show him the confirmation for the private flight and trip you had already so kindly taken the liberty to do. There was truthfully no excuse for him not to take a leave. It wasn’t as if the two of you had children yet or some other overwhelming responsibility to care for. You were in the primes of your lives and careers. You deserved to live as such. So before he even had the chance to attest or change your mind, you’d show him that he too deserved to be pampered.

“..so, when are we leaving?”

Immediately sending him into a toothy smirk. There was no arguing with you when you became set in your ways. You were stubborn but your heart and intentions were always pure. And for that, he truly was thankful and blessed to be able to call you his wife!

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Yeah..I know. But that’s exactly why you married me.” You’d chuckle as you stood to your feet, retrieving his plate and leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Now go pack. I’m not playing with you, sir.” “You know I like it when you tell me what to do..gets me excited.” Alluding to something a little more salacious than your previous discussion, prompting you to smack your lips and playfully slap at him. “Bye! And bring your ass to bed, please.”

This trip was certainly going to be one to remember!

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(biiiig long time skip bc I am not writing all of that and this fic is so long already!)

Matangi Private Islands, Fiji: two days later, March 29th…

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It was just barely sunrise when the two of you made landfall on the coasts of the secluded islands. All courtesy of a first class, private flight from the comfort of his jet. It was just one of the many amenities that were afforded with this lifestyle. Something that he’d have to take part in more often. Crystalline blue waters waved across the shoreline, palm trees and colorful flowers flowing in the breeze and birds chirped in the far off distance. Currently, you were getting checked into your suite and what awaited you guys was an oasis like neither of you had ever seen… “Isn’t it beautiful?! Babe, look at this..it’s so big.” Sunshine beamed over the pathway, headed to the designated suite. A huge hut-style home from the exterior, equipped with three rooms, two baths and tons of amenities on the inside. Three wooden bridges connected to you to all sides of the island, allowing you access to the waters, the pool and the front gate. There was a very spacious living area and kitchen, accompanied by a private chef who’d prepare you all whatever you desired. The most picturesque bathrooms you’ve ever seen and sleek, modern decorations. But perhaps, by far the most impressive perk was the fact that there was no one on this island for at least three miles except the staff. You were in complete solitude, just as he wanted. It was a gift that had come not a moment too soon. Seeing as how the whole reason for this little adventure was less than twenty four hours away..

“Princess, this is really nice. I mean..really nice. But was this necessary? I mean, how much did this cost?”

Scraping slowly behind you in his Balenciaga slides, black sweats from the same brand and a tank top..Eren seemed rather fussy for someone who was supposed to be on vacation. You had all but expected this..it was no surprise that he was going to put up a fight about not being able to be tied to that damn desk, but you paying his way for this ordeal! However, you weren’t much in the mood to hear him complaining because his stubbornness was no match for your own and when you wanted your way, best believe that’s what damn well was going to happen. Turning to him, sporting your skin tight sundress..a fluorescent lime green that complimented your dark complexion perfectly..and had him rather happy, you’d immediately turn to face him and place his cheeks between your palms, squishing his face. Standing on your tiptoes to meet his gaze.

“That, my sweet love..is not important. What is important is that you have a good time...and as long as that happens. Nothing else matters to me.” Which was about the most ideal answer he was going to get. Releasing a heavy sigh, it took him no time at all to soften..he couldn’t argue when he saw that smile on your pretty face. What was the harm in allowing you to take the reins for once and he followed? Most importantly, what could it hurt to be the one who was getting spoiled this time around? Besides, he had full faith that you’d make this trip..one he’d soon never forget! “Alright. Fine, angel. I trust you and I love you…thank you for this. I really appreciate it.” “Of course…” bending down to cup your own cheeks and plant a gentle yet deep kiss on your lips. Giving a rather warm and suggestive glare into your eyes. One that neither of you wanted to pull away from. It had been a while since you guys had been able to have quality alone time like this. It felt good to not be interrupted by texts of practice or meetings. Or someone knocking on the door, saying that a guest had arrived. It was blissful and there wasn’t anyone around to stop whatever was about to transpire. For right now, you’d allow your bodies to do the talking. Soon, those strong hands of his that once rested on your cheeks readjusted and moved to the back of your head to fully entrap you into a more sensual peck. Releasing deep breaths, you’d both smack and whimper against one another’s lips as you began to make out. Eventually, those hands found home around your throat and yours trailed up his chest. You hadn’t noticed much until now but your man had been working out quite a bit. Since his hospital scare, he’d made somewhat of an effort at better living. His newly chiseled physique wasn’t lost on you..nor was the way he seemed to be craving intimacy. A lack of physical touch and alone time had made him quite needy for you..in more ways than one.

“I know it’s a lil’ early and all but…I think I wanna unwrap my gift right now.”

“Mmm..is that right?”

giggling against his lips as your faces met with only a hair breadth of distance between you. The tension was looming and rather thick. A single look at all of you and it wouldn’t be hard to tell just how badly you needed to release some stress. Tugging at his bottom lip between your teeth, you’d continue making out as you shuffled towards the kitchen counter, where he’d waste no time, setting you on top of it. Eren had you all to himself without a single soul around to intervene in your affairs. So best believe, he was going to enjoy himself! Moving his lips from your jawline to your throat, your husband marked the skin with very soft kisses and gentle suckles that would leave faint hickies. Meanwhile, his hands gilded delicately down your body. Even making a couple stops to smack and squeeze on that plump ass. Until they found home on your breasts..where he’d very carefully grope. Massaging those perky tits and stroking your nipples on his thumb pads. “…so fucking pretty..” He loved your reactions. The way you moaned for him. Whimpering each time he made a move and all but begged him for more.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna wait until after breakfast, babe?” Which earned the exact response you were expecting from him. Who had a ravenous appetite of his own but not for any good.

“I got something to eat right here..fuck all that..” muttering against one another’s lips as you both broke into soft giggles. He was adamant in enjoying every moment of this away time. And more so specifically, making up for all the time lost between you two, due to his busy schedule. You’d been married for the better part of a couple years and although you were madly in love with each other, it hadn’t been easy. Long nights, work events, tour dates and all the other external factors that prevented you guys from being alone…made it difficult to enjoy yourselves. It was times that you craved each other so desperately that distance or exhaustion kept you away. That your bodies practically yearned and cried out. However, they were mere afterthoughts at the moment. You could enjoy your man with no interruption and vice versa. And best believe, Eren was going to get more than his fill of you.

“Here, put your legs up and lean back for me..” his instructions followed by his hands cupping your cheek once more and marking you with more gentle pecks. Naturally, you’d do so and part your thighs wide open. Giving him quite the nice surprise in return..chewing at your lower lip and index finger, you’d watch the reaction on his face…along with the one in his shorts!

“Oh shit…ain’t even wearing any panties. You knew what you wanted, huh?” Pegging you immediately because he knew that each of you were on the same type of time. Inching closer, Eren’s fingers gradually dredged up that exposed slit. “Can you blame me? I missed you..” giving him that irresistible pout and doe eyes that always drive him insane. Whilst one hand worked you over; grinding yourself against his digits, his other kept gently caressing your face and eventually, you’d pop his thumb into your mouth and suckle on the tip. It was enough to make him put you through this damn marble top right now! “Yeah?..I missed you more, princess. Missed all of this..” subtly grunting in the deep tone of his as he slipped a finger inside of you and heard the pop that followed. “This shit’s so fucking tight, princess..and wet. This all me?” “Of course..been thinking about you all week. How bad I needed you..” confessing to him in a whiny tone whilst rubbing his chiseled chest. Among other things, including how you were going to spend the entire week fucking on him..how you spent your time away on tour, playing with yourself to his voice messages and own salacious videos he’d sent. Jerking himself off behind the camera as he professed his love and desire for you. Ending in a splatter of warm semen all over his screen as he cried out your name. And him causing you to flood your hotel sheets after plunging yourself on those dainty fingers. It was too much to bear..he had to make a move before he came in his boxers right there!

“Fuck…I need you. Need this pussy so bad, baby.” Practically desperate for you. By this time, you had begun working to free his hard cock from its confines and once you did so, he’d immediately spring into your closed palm. He’d ever so slightly fuck your fist and moan out as he continued working you over. Meanwhile, you were still vehemently making out with one another. You’d all but beg him to put it inside of you and it wasn’t a full minute later before his tip was prodding through your entrance and you both came undone. Releasing simultaneous expletives as he split you open and filled you halfway.

“Oh my gosh!… ‘s so fucking big..”

“That’s not even all of it. You can take it f’r me, can’t you?”

smirking as he wasted no time in bucking his hips forward and feeding you deep strokes. They were a little slow at first but you could feel each one. Every bump, every curve and inch of that lengthy shaft. The way it curved up into you and pressed that spot on impact..you were losing it. Placing a hand around the back of your neck to keep your head straight and your leg atop his shoulder, Eren would increase his pace and really give you what you needed! “You can take this dick for daddy, can’t you, baby?” Grunting against your lips. Smacking sounds erupting across the suite from your skin as your lower halves collided. It didn’t take long before a silky sheath of your juices were formed and coating your flesh. The two of you would last no time from all the pent up sexual frustration and emotions.

“Yes! Yes! Give it to me…right there..”

increasing his pace and you’d follow suit by stroking your clit. He was unhinged..unable to contain himself inside of you. Eren clutched your ankle and laced your calf with sweet, tender kisses as he pounded your pussy into oblivion. “Shit..you gonna come for me already, baby..you’re squeezing me so tight.” Taunting you with that high lilt in his voice, not breaking eye contact once. To say you were a trembling mess at this point was an absolute understatement..cream dripping all down his shaft and onto the countertop as your clit pulsates with each thrust. You couldn’t take another moment and the day had only begun. Less known the entire week!…but you loved it. You loved pleasing your man and giving him everything his heart and body desired. And despite how intense it felt at the moment, you craved this just as badly. You both needed this release.

“Mmmph! You fucking me so good, daddy…’s just too much..”

“Don’t tease me now…you were talking all that shit on the plane, saying you needed this dick every day…you sure you can handle it?…‘cause I’mma stretch this shit out. Tryna’ get you pregnant, baby.” The sheer thought of him breeding you gets you aroused all over again. Even if it was an empty promise in the throes of mid-lust excitement. Regardless, he’d keep pounding at a steady pace until he felt you twitching and clutching once more until you were about to come undone. That’s when he’d speed up, angling himself until that tip was poking directly at your overstimulated core. “So tell me I can have it. You know I’m selfish, princess…I always get my way.” Mocking you once more with his tongue wagging, chuckling and with a thumb on your clit. Rubbing slow circles until you were gripping the counter top. Tits swaying with the fierce bouncing of your frames. Even the tears streaming down your face couldn’t sate his desire to make you climax right now. He knew you were feeling equally as overstimulated and was ready to push you over the edge. Suddenly, your husband would lean forward and curl his face into the crook of your neck.

“Come in me, daddy!..nnngh..”

“Oh God, baby. Can I please? Can I put a baby in it?..”

panting as he bared his weight onto the countertop. His pace reached its peak and before long, you both reached the finish that you had sought after.

“ ‘rennnnn! Fuck…please..” your nails clawed deep into his back, holding him close to your chest as he pumped every last ounce of his seed into that inviting womb. Just one of many on this island excursion. He didn’t let up until he was certain that you were good and stuffed but whimpered and cried to your name the entire time. It was absolute bliss, a sensation and feeling like none other and he couldn’t wait to experience more like it.

“Kiss me…” cupping your face into his palms, Eren let your tongues clash in a heated haze…moaning and whispering ‘I love you’s’ the entire time. Never had he dreamed of starting his mornings like this. Warm weather with a chill breeze sweeping through the open windows, ocean waves crashing against the tan shorelines, palm trees swaying in a calmed motion and most importantly…giving into his desires with the love of his life . The type of view that made you never want to go back to reality!…but for right now, you’d enjoy this world, this haven…

“Oh my God, that was perfect.”

“Yes…I needed that so badly. Thank you, princess..”

“Mmm, no..thank you. So…you ready to start your vacation now?”

“I can do anything after that..got me feeling the best I have in a long time…”

and no matter where you were in the world, as long as you were together, it was paradise!

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month

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Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #Dolly writes #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #everlasting sweetheart #eddie munson x reader smut #older!eddie smut

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heartsforhavik · 5 months

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mk1 men x reader hcs (fanfic tropes edition)

pairings: havik, johnny cage, kung lao, raiden, rain, syzoth, shang tsung, smoke x reader (all separate)

warnings: slight angst in havik’s bc his past is damn sad. slight gore in shang tsung’s. slight spoilers for mk1 story mode. reader is gender neutral in all.

summary: sfw headcanons of you and the mk1 men but with common fanfic tropes (only one bed, coffee shop, enemies to lovers, etc)

a/n: this. took. 6 hours. i was gonna put baraka, reiko, liu kang, and bi-han, but they didn’t make the cut lol. also if anyone wants, i can turn any of these into full fics. all u gotta do is request it!!

havik: only one bed

- you and havik were very close. you knew each other pretty well, but that’s about it. you were never more than friends, even if you wish you were. even if your banter together suggests to be more than friends, you usually assume it’s just a joke.

- until you both had to take shelter in an abandoned house. you were on the run, trying to escape the soldiers in sun do chasing you both down.

- what you didn’t know was that there was only one bed inside.

- “you may rest on the bed. i can just rest on the floor or keep watch.” havik offered.

- “no, you deserve rest too. we’ve had a long day. you should sleep.” you told him.

- havik sighed. “there is no point in arguing. perhaps we can share?”

- the idea made you a bit flustered, but you were not against it one bit. you found havik attractive, and you respected him like he respected you. but the idea of sharing the same bed is so… intimate. it’s like he trusted you enough to be beside you while he slept. it was flattering.

- you agreed to his offer, and crawled to opposite sides of the bed. he had his back turned to you, and you could clearly see his back muscles and his biceps in the dim light crawling through the window. thank god the moon was bright, so you can clearly look at him.

- you were so close. it was almost embarrassing how you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you were basically ogling at him while he slept.

- but you snapped out of it and you slowly succumbed to sleep, not knowing havik was awake the whole time.

- havik tossed and turned, he couldn’t stop thinking about how you felt comfortable enough to be next to him while you slept. you’re so vulnerable. you looked so peaceful and delicate while you slept. usually he’d refuse to go to sleep since he doesn’t really need to, but he wanted to take the opportunity to be close to you.

- he’s a stubborn guy, always wanting revenge for his past in seido. he’s bitter. he’s angry. he wants freedom for other seidans like him. he craves liberation and to bless others lives with anarchy. but it’s in times like these when he can finally relax. when he can just sigh in contentment, and sit next to you as you slept.

- you looked so happy as his ally, having the freedom to do what you want. havik sees you as a symbol of what life can look like for others. surely if you’re happy and free, other people can be too?

- he also knew he had feelings for you. he tried to push them away and pretend you were just allies, because he wants to focus on his pursuit to liberation. but someday.. someday when he achieves said liberation… he’ll confess his feelings. someday, havik will finally feel safe enough to be vulnerable with someone for the first time after years of being a slave. and if he had to be vulnerable with anyone in all the realms, it’d be you. someday.

johnny cage: fake relationship

- you were a famous actor. you weren’t incredibly famous or anything, but you were definitely well-known.

- one day at another actor’s party, you happened to meet johnny cage.

- “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” johnny flirted, giving you a wink.

- you both got along for a few hours, laughing and talking as if you were old friends. you even gave him your number with no hesitation.

- but what you didn’t know was that somebody took photos of you two and posted them online. and the internet started assuming you were a couple because of how happy you both looked.

- your names were trending on twitter and fans everywhere were hoping you were a real couple.

- then, johnny himself texted you, proposing that you both went along with it and pretended to be a couple. you agreed, of course.

- so for the next few weeks, you both went to visit each other frequently and got ‘caught’ by the paparazzi many times. pictures and videos of you two were everywhere. you and johnny had lots of fun together going through the edits and fan accounts that were already made.

- but, you were secretly really enjoying the ‘fake’ relationship you two had. you actually wanted him for real. you didn’t know that he was doing the same.

- you found out one day when you were at his mansion for the thousandth time. he took a quick bathroom break and you wanted to scare him when he came back, so you hid somewhere he couldn’t see you. but you happened to overhear a phone call between him and his friend.

- “i’m telling you kenshi, this one is special. i really like them. a lot. i don’t think i want our relationship to be fake anymore. they’re just so understanding, and fun, and hot! but i don’t know. i don’t know if they like me too.” johnny admitted over a call.

- you were shocked. he actually had feelings for you too. you immediately came out of your hiding spot and confronted him.

- “oh shit. you heard that?!” johnny cursed.

- but his panic died down as soon as you admitted your feelings too. neither of you admitted your relationship was fake at first, but neither of you cared about the media anymore. because your love is real and genuine now.

kung lao: coffee shop au

- there was a coffee shop you owned and worked at in your village.

- it was pretty successful, and you got quite a few customers every day. it wasn’t too exciting though. at least until kung lao walked in for the first time.

- he was immediately attracted to you at first sight.

- he and raiden had to find a different place to rest at after work that day, since madam bo’s was temporarily closed.

- kung lao walked inside, not expecting anything exciting. until he saw you behind the counter. your eyes sparkled and your smile grew when you greeted him and raiden, offering them a seat and asking them what they wanted to order. he couldn’t even think straight. he was so lost in your eyes.

- “what can i get you two?”

- “uh. um. uhhh… i’d like uh…. coffee?”

- “what kind?” you sweetly asked.

- “coffee.” he blurted.

- you didn’t know he liked you, you honestly thought he was just indecisive. you were very patient with him though, since you thought he was cute.

- raiden instantly saw how kung lao was speechless at the sight of you, and teased his friend about it.

- “you like them, huh?”

- “what? psh, no.. maybe… so?”

- raiden came up to you while you were making the coffee, and let you know about his friend’s interest.

- “i think kung lao has a bit of an interest in you… but you didn’t hear it from me!” raiden whispered.

- the cute guy in your shop had an interest in you? yeah, sure. you didn’t really believe him. but a part of you hoped it was true.

- kung lao took his sweet time in the shop, and stayed for hours before it closed. even after raiden left, he still stayed just to talk to you. he kept ordering coffee over and over so he had an excuse to stay.

- before it closed, you asked him how the coffee was. clearly he really liked it because of how much he ordered it, right?

- “actually… i’m not a fan of coffee. i just wanted to talk to you.” kung lao admitted.

- thankfully, his efforts did not go to waste. he left the shop with a big smile on his face and a napkin with your number on it. he was definitely going to visit the shop every day now.

- oh and also, he kept that napkin. even years into your relationship, he never threw it away.

raiden: childhood friends to lovers

- you and raiden were friends since you were children. you used to run around the fields of your village together and play games without a care in the world.

- you both remained friends all the way to adulthood, even though you didn’t get to talk often since you had moved away and you wrote letters to one another every now and then. but you decided to move back home one day.

- upon seeing how you look now, he was pleasantly surprised. you looked absolutely amazing.

- you decided to catch up with one another, still getting along and sharing stories and memories you had with each other. it’s almost as if you never left. you were even meeting up every day.

- “it’s almost as if you never left. you know, you look amazing.” raiden complimented.

- “thanks, raiden. you look great too! especially when you come back from a long day in the fields, i can clearly see some muscle there. you put in a lot of work, huh?” you teased, making him blush.

- “well, uh, i do my best. i know what i do makes the village thrive. but.. i didn’t know you noticed. and i didn’t know you were looking at my uh, muscles.” he replied, slightly exposing you.

- that pretty much continued for a few weeks, as you both were slightly flirting but neither of you actually made the first move. but one day, raiden finally gained the courage to confess to you.

- he woke up early that morning to freshen himself up and give himself a pep talk in front of his bathroom mirror.

- “okay, you can do this raiden. just tell them how you feel. can’t be that hard…” he told himself.

- he rushed to buy goods and some candy for you, preparing a basket full of it. he was ready to confess his feelings to you.

- he showed up at your doorstep, and raiden was thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. maybe you were in a bad mood? maybe he bought too much candy? was he shaking? did his hair look nice?

- “raiden? what’s up?” you asked, answering the door.

- “listen, i uh.. i like you. a lot. i really enjoyed being your friend all these years, but i fell in love with you over these past few weeks. i couldn’t stop thinking of you pretty much every day, it was like i was put under a spell. but i suppose, in a way, i was. you have bewitched me body and soul. i haven’t felt this way for anyone before.” raiden admitted.

- he kind of rambled a bit, but you understood exactly what he meant. you felt the same way.

- raiden was extremely relieved that you reciprocated his feelings. you both went on to have a happy, safe relationship. you wouldn’t change it for the world.

rain: rivals to lovers

- rain was a mage. and so were you.

- however, he mastered the ways of water. you mastered fire. they don’t go together.

- “my water will put out your flames.” rain threatened.

- “oh no, a splash of water, i’m so scared.” you replied sarcastically.

- you both tried to one-up the other every time you saw each other, refusing to show weakness. you couldn’t even be in a room together without staring each other down the whole time.

- the longer you were rivals, the more tension there was between you. other people even assumed you were dating already.

- you both wanted to be the most powerful mage in outworld. you just couldn’t agree on anything. he was so annoying, wasn’t he? and the way he would stare at you at every chance he got. the way he always had his full attention on you. even the way he was so dedicated to arguing with you for months.

- until you two finally sparred together.

- “i am tired of you. please shut up.” rain groaned.

- “make me.” you threatened.

- “oh, i will.”

- then, you both ended up fighting for hours. it was an even match. neither of you wished to give up, but you were tired of fighting.

- “listen, rain.. i think we should just admit it’s a tie…” you said, panting between words.

- “you think?” rain sighed, as you both finally stopped fighting.

- you both took a moment to sit down and regain your energy in silence. comfortable silence.

- something was probably in the air, because you were suddenly not fighting. neither verbally nor physically. just.. enjoying each other’s company for the first time in months.

- “you’re… very strong.” rain mumbled.

- “oh? what was that? can you repeat that for me? i don’t think i heard you very clearly…” you teased.

- he rolled his eyes. “you heard me loud and clear.”

- you laughed. “yeah, i did. thanks, zeffeero. you’re pretty strong too. to be honest, i was kind of nervous for this fight. i know we always argue, but i still admire your skills… i guess.” you admitted.

- his eyes widened in surprise. “oh… thank you. i always admired your skills as well. your pyromancy is extremely impressive. perhaps…” he put a finger to his chin. “we should train together instead of fighting.”

- you agreed to his offer and you started frequently sparring together in a friendly way. you even ended up confessing to one another after a few weeks of friendliness, and becoming a powerful couple. you’re both grateful for your rivalry in the beginning, because you have already seen the worst of each other. now, you can see only the good parts in one another.

syzoth: forbidden love

- you were royalty and you were ordered to marry other royalty or at least rich

- when you met syzoth, you immediately fell in love

- “are you sure you want *me,* your highness? i mean, i could never distract you from the throne..” syzoth asked, always feeling insecure.

- “nonsense, syzoth.” you comforted. “i truly love you. i don’t care if you aren’t royalty.”

- but the more you spent time with him, the more terrible you felt, knowing you couldn’t marry him

- but at the same time… it felt so fun. sneaking him inside the palace and trying not to get caught. cuddling in bed at night and talking quietly so you won’t be heard. syzoth turning invisible anytime you heard guards nearby. the thrill of it just made your romance more fun.

- until you *actually* got caught. that wasn’t fun.

- your name was dragged through dirt for being in love with a zaterran. you were shunned from your family. but that didn’t stop you from being with him.

- “your highness, please, don’t risk the throne for me. you shouldn’t be seen with me anymore. i do not wish to make you suffer.” syzoth begged. he didn’t want to leave you, but he didn’t want to see your life fall apart because of him.

- “i don’t care. you make me so happy, syzoth. you love me for who i am, and i do the same for you. i have no problems with giving up my status for you. besides, you aren’t ruining my life. you’re making it so much better.” you reassured.

- but it turns out, you got to keep your throne. you threatened to leave your palace and give up your royalty, but your family didn’t want that. so they reluctantly let you have syzoth as your consort, even though half of the kingdom wasn’t very pleased with that. you didn’t care. you were just glad you don’t have to keep your lover a secret anymore.

shang tsung: partners in crime (it’s not rlly a trope but who cares)

- shang tsung ? dedicated to someone and working alongside them ? what is this sorcery…

- it’s self explanatory. you and him are just a power couple. you fight alongside one another and you help him come up with plans.

- anytime one of you gets in trouble, the other helps. you’re just two troublemaking lovers bent on destroying the people around you. it’s a surprisingly healthy relationship considering the fact that you both ruin lives and kill people daily.

- shang tsung is devoted to you. he would kill for you without hesitation. and he expects the same from you. he sees you as his equal and he expects you to always be there for him and support his decisions, no matter how twisted they are. he does listen to your input and opinions, but that doesn’t mean he takes orders from you.

- oh remember how you both kill people together? he loves your strength. he loves how you look when you kill people. all his favorite memories with you are when you kiss while standing on the dead bodies of his enemies.

- “darling, you look absolutely ravishing. but must you be so messy?” shang tsung asks, pointing at your blood-stained clothes.

- “thank you, my love. i know i was a bit messy, but don’t you think it’s a representation of our hard work? our art?” you reason.

- shang tsung smiled at your explanation. “you have a point. you’ve always been so good at winning me over.”

- even when he was almost locked up outworld. if it wasn’t for you, he probably would’ve been executed.

- you noticed he never came home one day, and you knew something was up, you felt it in your gut.

- you went around outworld, specifically sun do. you wore a disguise and simply walked around, hoping someone would mention seeing him. considering the fact that you and him are both very recognizable faces in outworld, someone must’ve seen him.

- “did you hear shang tsung is finally lock up in sun do’s prisons?” you hear a merchant say.

- in prison? he got caught? whatever, you can lecture shang tsung later. you had to save him first.

- you broke into the prison at night, knocking out every umgadi soldier you saw. they definitely will try to find you when they wake up, but that didn’t matter to you. all that mattered to you at the moment was that you had to free your lover.

- “amazing work, darling.” shang tsung praised, as soon as he saw you in front of his cell.

- “praise me later, i’ll break you out now.” you whispered, hoping no other umgadi showed up.

- you both ran out the palace, not caring about whatever destruction you caused in the process of escaping.

- that whole scenario happens at least once every few months now. you always have to save his ass every time shang tsung gets put in a jail. in return, he grants you freedom and his love. he hopes someday he can rule the realms with you by his side as his consort.

- for now, he must be patient. his dream will come true someday, but for now, he is content with always being on the run with you. living a couple years of crime with his beloved doesn’t bother him one bit.

smoke: grumpy x sunshine

- smoke is not a completely soft, happy-go-lucky guy. he is a brave fighter that puts his strength and energy into the shirai ryu. however, he’s still extremely kind to his loved ones.

- when he met you, he was confused about your cold, almost angry exterior. it almost gave him flashbacks to the way bi-han treated him when he was a child.

- thankfully, you weren’t that bad. you weren’t mean, just distant and occasionally emotionless. smoke made it his personal mission to help you prove yourself non-intimidating now that you were a couple. especially because you were very soft in private.

- people were usually confused when they found out you two were together. how can someone as kind as tomas choose to be with you? you’re total opposites.

- he always defended you from your doubters. he gets annoyed when someone puts your name in their mouths. if only they understood you. if only they put in the effort to get to know you, they’d understand.

- but you reassured him that you can’t control what other people think. he knows you’re right, but he still can’t help but wish other people would stop judging you just because you ‘look’ mean.

- “i just wish they would see you for who you are. i know you aren’t rude. you’re just.. a bit distant.” smoke sighed.

- “don’t stress about it, tomas.” you reassured, running your fingers through his hair. “i appreciate that you defend me all the time, but it’s kind of my fault. you don’t need to apologize for how i act.”

- however, smoke now has scary dog privileges. (it’s you you’re the scary dog)

- anytime a random person comes up and flirts with him, they see your death stare behind him and immediately run away. even if you aren’t doing it on purpose.

- anytime someone tries to use him for his kindness, you shut them down and defend him. but it’s not that smoke *needs* defending. he’s strong enough, but you still like to step in and defend him just like he defends you.

- he appreciates that you look out for him just like he does for you. you both love each other very much, and he accepts you for who you are. he doesn’t judge you for struggling to express emotions, and he learned to read your emotions in smaller gestures like your body language and your eyes. you are his love, his treasure, his beloved. he just wants you to be happy and safe, no matter what other people say about your relationship.

838 notes · View notes

sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months

Text

✧ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 || quinn hughes ♔

album & song: evermore ; willow

summary: y/n loves quinn and quinn loves her. they would do everything and anything for each other or some moments in y/n and quinn's relationship that really make them, them

pairings: quinn hughes x best friend!reader (minor luke and jack x platonic!reader)

warnings: parents fighting, crying, fighting, i don't think anything else

notes: hey y'all, a promise is a promise so here is willow! i've really wanted to write this one for a while so i'm happy it's finally done. this is kind of best friends to lovers but really the only time they're best friends is like two parts of the fic but there are references to it. i haven't done a nhl x ts one in a while and i also haven't written a quinn fic in a while so, here's both. i love quinn and i love how this turned out. i'm sorry the last three are kinda of short and i cut out some lyrics but i was getting kinda tired and everything i wrote i hated so this is the best out of all of them. weird side note, i was at one point in the story where it said 'the one' while editing and i was listening to my taylor swift playlist on shuffle (because it gets me in the mood to write) and 'the 1' came on. i swear, stuff like this has been happening so much recently and i don't know why. add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

evermore masterlist | nhl x ts masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

‘I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife’

Senior Year of High School

She was having a tough time, school, finals, graduation, work, everything and anything that she did seemed like it was ganging up on her. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason for her stress, but there were many things she could blame it on. On top of it, her parents had been fighting nonstop for the past month. It wasn’t like they hadn’t before but this time it was worse, she felt like she was the cause for it.

Quinn had invited her over for some dinner, hoping to at least relieve some of the stress from his best friend’s shoulders. When she arrived he could see the stress in her face, she looked as if she didn’t really want to come in the first place.

He stepped aside and let the girl in, “Hey, y/n/n.”

“Hi, Quinn.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” She ran a hand through her hair before following Quinn to his room, saying hi to Ellen on the way. Ellen looked at the girl strangely, “Hi, y/n.”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ellen, hon.” She pressed a kiss to her head, “Are you okay? You look-”

Bad? Drained? Streseed? Annoyed? Tired? All of the above? Is what she wanted to say, but didn’t, “I’m just a little tired right now.” Ellen nodded but looked unconvinced, shooting her oldest a look who also nodded his head.

He lightly took the girl’s arm and took her to his room, offering her to sit on his bed which she took gratefully. She looked around his room and at the posters on his wall before looking over at where he now sat at his desk. He was already looking at her with a small smile on his face, concern still lingering in his eyes.

The two stared at each other for a moment before a knock was heard on the door, “Hi.”

The two looked over to see his brothers standing there, “Hi Jack, Luke.”

Quinn didn’t reciprocate his best friend’s kindness, “What do you two want?”

“We just wanted to give y/n this.” Luke pulled out one of his bear stuffed animals from behind his back, “You looked sad.” Jack stood there, slightly out of place, mostly because this was Luke’s idea instead of his, but he liked y/n enough to go with him.

“Awe, thanks, you guys.” Tears made their way to the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall in front of the two.

Noticing her expression, Jack waved goodbye and dragged the eighth grader behind him. Y/n held the bear in her lap, arms wrapping around it tightly as she tried not to think of the events that happened before she got here.

“Y/n/n? Are you sure you're okay, because if not-” Quinn’s overwhelming concern for her made the tears bubble over in her eyes and a sob ripped from her throat, “I can’t do it anymore, Quinny.”

Quinn was quick to get up from his desk chair and stumble over to his bed to wrap the girl in a hug. He knew he didn’t have to do anything but hold her tight as she dug her head into his chest, the stuffed animal still clutched tightly to her chest.

It took her about ten minutes to calm down, tear after tear, and for her it felt like it would never stop. Quinn did what he always did and waited for her to stop so he, or she, could talk about it. He knew if he tried to talk to her while she was crying, she wouldn’t listen, nothing got through to her when she was crying this hard.

When she pulled away to wipe away her tear-stained face, Quinn opened his mouth to talk, “You know you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you can, I’ll always listen.” He reached his hand out to wipe away one tear that she missed, one blackened by her mascara, leaving a trail of the makeup it held behind it.

She held a weak smile on her face at the warmth his hand brought to her cheek and looked at him, “Just finals and other shit like that, the usual. Plus, my parents were fighting again, I think that was my final straw.”

Quinn nodded his head, recognizing the tone in her voice that said she didn’t want to talk. Her face looked more tired after crying and he sighed, scooting back to rest his back against the headboard. Y/n looked at him confusedly but smiled when he opened his arms. She was quick to lay against his front, laying her head on his chest once more, still holding the bear in her grasp.

Ellen walked by twenty minutes later to tell them that dinner was ready, but when she peaked into her son’s room and saw both of them with their eyes closed she smiled, closed the door, and walked away telling the rest of the family to be quiet as they slept.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine’

End of Senior Year/Summer of ‘17

The both of them knew the feelings that they harbored for each other, but were both unsure of how the other felt. Neither one of them wanted to mess up their current friendship, they had been best friends since freshman year.

It had never been that simple between them, their friends saying how they looked like a couple everywhere they went. She would always wear his jerseys to his games or one of his shirts and he would always show up to her events with unwavering support.

Whenever someone saw Quinn, y/n wasn’t too far behind and vice versa, whenever y/n was asked what she was doing that night, she would say hanging out with Quinn and vice versa. They would always be caught holding hands or leaning up against one another or literally any other way that looked like they were dating.

They never said anything though, and they wouldn’t until graduation. Quinn and y/n stood side by side taking a picture with each other as they waited for their parents to find them. Y/n knew Quinn was good at hockey, good enough to get drafted, good enough to make the NHL, it was no secret. But because of Quinn’s birthday that wouldn’t happen for at least another year.

She was worried, she didn’t want to lose him. She didn’t want him to become this big-shot hockey player and forget about her, she didn’t want him to become a self-absorbed player with an ego bigger than himself. Though deep down she knew he would never let his ego get that big, but the forgetting part? As much as she told herself he wouldn’t and knew that he wouldn’t she couldn’t get past the ‘what if?’

Quinn waved a hand in front of her face, snapping a couple of times to gain her attention, “Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.” He dragged out the last syllable of her name.

She looked at him, her eyes getting rid of the glassed-over look by blinking, “What?”

“I’ve been talking for the past couple of minutes and you, my dear sweet y/n, have not responded. You have just been-” Quinn looked over to where her focus had landed when she spaced out, “staring at that tree.”

“Oh sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re going to go to school for one year and then you’re going to get drafted. You’re going to go away somewhere and play professional hockey for a living and you’re going to forget about me.”

“Who said I was going to forget about you?”

“No one, just me and my thoughts.”

“Well, you and your thoughts are wrong, because I could never forget about you.” He tilted her head down to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s what you say now.”

“I’ll you fly out to wherever I’m playing, Nashville, Toronto, Vancouver, anywhere, and I’ll let you punch me if I forget about you because you are the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. Since freshman orientation, I knew you were the one.”

“Are you just saying that because I was the only one who would talk about hockey with you?”

Quinn being bold, slid his hands underneath y/n’s graduation gown, grabbing onto her waist through the fabric of her dress and pulling her close to him. She stumbled because it was unexpected and she was in heels, causing the boy to apologize before placing his index finger underneath her chin and lifting it so her eyes would meet his, “Look at me.”

She sighed when the two made contact. Quinn noticed the fear in her eyes, she truly didn’t want to lose him and he didn’t either, “I know you’re worried and so am I, but I promise you this-”

She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, the whole bullshit of the promises not to forget about her, she’s read it plenty of times in books, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Quinn.” She diverted her eyes away again, directing them to the other families around them.

“Hey.” Quinn once again moved her head so her eyes had no choice but to look into his own, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Quinn but that doesn’t really change-”

“Just shut up for one minute, will you? I love you, y/n. And I don’t mean the typical I love you that you give to Taylor. I love you and I was too afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t know how you felt but I thought if there was a time to tell you this, it would be now.”

Y/n looked at him in shock, the words she had been waiting for since she walked into the auditorium for orientation. This wasn’t real life, was it?

Quinn stared at her blank face as she opened and closed her mount a couple of times, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The boy went to walk away but she placed a hand on his arm, “No! No, I’m sorry I just didn’t know what to say. I love you too, Quinn.”

“You do?”

She nodded and Quinn wasted no time placing his lips onto hers.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in’

Fall of ‘21

She loved Quinn, she truly did, but not that much that she was willing to stay up into the early hours of the morning/late hours of the night for him after a game. She texted him saying that she was going to bed and that she was proud of him for his game.

It was the first time since they moved in together that Quinn had a night home game. Getting used to the rhythm that was going to be for the rest of Quinn’s hockey career was starting slow. She wasn’t used to him coming home at late hours of the night or leaving in the early hours of the morning before the sun was up to go to practice.

She didn’t mind it that much though, just knowing that he was coming home to her was good enough for the both of them. She laid in bed, hoping that she would be able to stay awake until he got home but she fell asleep within moments of her laying on the bed.

When Quinn got the text, he had just finished putting on his suit jacket and he wanted nothing more than to go home to his girl and lay next to her in their newly shared bed. But, his teammates were not going to let that happen.

They dragged him to a bar to have one or two drinks before heading home. He thinks he’s never detested his teammates this much before this moment. When he finished his first drink, he said goodbye, practically running out of the doors of the bar.

He unlocked the car and practically sped home and crept into the apartment, just in case y/n was already sleeping. He set his things down and walked into the bedroom and smiled when he saw her curled up in the sheets, a shirt of his adorning her body much like in college when he’d go to away games.

He took a quick shower, not wanting to prolong the duration of not having her in his arms. He put a pair of sweatpants on before carefully lifting the covers and sliding into bed. Y/n, who had been awake since he walked in the apartment doors, turned over, “Hi Quinner.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped to his girlfriend’s, “Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was just a little cold and then I heard the front door click open.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”

“Because then I would’ve had to wait even longer for you to come to bed.”

Quinn smiled, giving her a kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

✧༺✎༻∞

‘Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind They count me out time and time again’

2022

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 50,161, others

_quinnhughes one of my annual appreciation posts for this girl right here

thank you for nine years of knowing you, they have been the best i've ever known. happy anniversary, my love

tagged yourusername

view 556 comments

yourusername awe quinn, i love you so much! happy anniversary, love ❤️

jackhughes i guess i love you too, happy anniversary to my second favorite couple

⤷ lhughes_06 who's your first favorite?

⤷ jackhughes mom and dad, who else

lhughes_06 happy anniversary yourusername and quinn! y/n you have been like a sister to me

⤷ yourusername see jack, this is what nice siblings do for their siblings partner, thank you lukey!

⤷ jackhughes hey, i said i love you, does that not count for something

⤷ yourusername oh it does, i love you too jack, you too luke

⤷ user01 so fucking ungrateful, she just comes and gets to be an ass to his family 🙄

user02 who the fuck is this?

⤷ user03 i know, she's literally not that special

user04 she's not even that pretty

user05 she has to hide her face because she's so ugly 😂, that's the reason why quinn picked these photos

user06 congratulations you two!

liked by yourusername and _quinnhughes

bboeser happy anniversary y/n and huggy

⤷ yourusername thanks brock!

user07 she's literally so annoying

⤷ user08 ikr, quinn deserves so much better

✧༺✎༻∞

‘Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind But I come back stronger than a 90's trend’

2022

nhlwags

liked by yourusername, _quinnhughes, and 3,043 others

nhlwags a little birdie told us one of our younger wags made gifts for the whole entire canucks team and staff, what a sweetheart.

happy belated anniversary to quinn hughes and y/n y/l/n!

following, please stop spreading hate about y/n she hasn't done anything to deserve this

tagged yourusername, _quinnhughes

view 218 comments

yourusername it was the least i could do! everyone has been so nice to me and they love quinn so i just reciprocated the love through my own way 💙💚

j.tmiller9 coming from all the canucks and the staff, please be kind to y/n, she has done nothing wrong to any of you and all of us, especially quinn and y/n, would greatly appreciate it. the two of them don't deserve slander for anything. (btw thanks for the bag, y/n!)

liked by _quinnhughes, yourusername, and 200 others

bboeser loved the gift, y/n is truly one of a kind

liked by yourusername

_eliaspettersson y/n is like the wag if i ever saw one

⤷ yourusername i'm not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or not, but thanks anyways petey

⤷ _eliaspettersson definetely a compliment

tdemko30 she really got us all surprised... can we get more cookies by the way?

⤷ yourusername of course!!

user05 she really clapped back at the haters. we stan y/n!

⤷ user09 i know! she is the best ever, did it in the most respectful way ever tbh

user10 the canucks team coming to y/n's defense is the cutest thing ever

✧༺✎༻∞

‘Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars’

Summer of ‘19

“Meet me at the dock after everyone goes to bed” was the text y/n got at ten o’clock. She smiled to herself when she read it and patiently waited for everyone to go to bed before sneaking out of the house and running down to the dock. Quinn sat with his feet dangling over the wood into the water waiting for his girlfriend. When he heard footsteps behind him, he turned around and grinned when he saw her running towards him.

They hadn’t had a moment alone together in almost three months. When Quinn had to fly to Vancouver to make his debut, she couldn’t come with him, having to finish her classes. Then she was staying with her parents for the majority of May and into June and she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Quinn had been finishing up some things with the team and he ended up spending some much-needed time with his family.

Ever since y/n had gotten to the lake house, she had been helping Ellen with things and spending time with Luke and Jack because they wanted her to. They played Mario Kart and other video games, and the two made her go out on the boat with them and made her watch as they did tricks and flipped into the water.

Quinn patted the space next to him but instead, y/n took her spot right on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes widened at the sudden contact but happily wrapped his arms around her waist, snuggling into one another.

Y/n looked at him, “So, I guess I’m dating a big-shot NHL player now, huh?”

Quinn merely shrugged, “I guess you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes, unfortunately, because he’s living in a totally different country than me and in the opposite direction.”

“Aw, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that. He must feel terrible.”

“Oh I don’t know, he gets to be a free man.”

“I wouldn’t say free, more sad.”

That comment made her perk up, “What’s wrong?”

“I just, miss you.” His voice ever so slightly cracked and she could see the tears starting to form in his eyes, “Honey. Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

At the nickname, Quinn immediately started crying, he had missed her so much, much more than he ever imagined he would. He never really thought about the fact that his best friend, his girlfriend, his everything would be in Michigan while he was in Vancouver.

“No, it’s not okay. I get to live out my dream but my dream isn’t complete without you there. We’re going to be 2,368.82 miles (3,812.25 km) apart for at least the next two years. I don’t think I can do it.”

Y/n hated it when he cried, it broke her heart into a million pieces when she saw the tears trickling down his face. Much like he always did with her, she reached up and cupped his face, wiping his tears off his face, “Listen to me. We are Quinn and y/n, y/n and Quinn, when has anything ever stopped us from being apart? Where’s the Quinn from when we graduated, huh? The Quinn who promised me that he would never forget me and that everything was going to be okay? Just because we’re however many miles/kilometers you said apart doesn’t mean anything. Now it’s my turn to promise you something. I promise you that we are going to find a way to make this work.”

Quinn nodded his head, still a little unconvinced about her words. In a way to distract him from the thoughts that he never thought he would be able to escape, she looked at the scars on his body and started asking him questions about them.

Some were from his childhood when he, Jack, and Luke would be playing a game or messing around and one of them would throw something at him or he was pushed over. Some were from when he played hockey when he was younger, getting shoved into the boards or shoving someone else into the boards. Some were from the games he played in the spring, his first games in the NHL. Those were y/n’s favorites and least favorites. Favorites because it was from his dream, and the stories behind them would last forever, least favorites because they reminded her of how much he could get hurt doing this. But that wasn’t something she wanted to worry about right now.

All she wanted to do was think about this moment, the moment they were living in as the stars illuminated where they sat on the dock, in each other’s arms, talking about random stories from each other’s childhood.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art’

Fall/Winter of ‘23

“You guys would never guess what I found when I was cleaning the other day.” Y/n came walking in from the room she had been in.

Jack and Luke sat at the table with Quinn and Ellen and Jim sat near their sons, one of the days leading up to the Hughes v Hughes game. They all smiled as the girl came bounding in, Quinn had just placed down his tiles when she spoke and he raised his eyebrows, “What’d you find, hon?”

Y/n placed a fluffy object down on the wood surface, “Luke’s bear that he and Jack gave me when we were in high school.”

“Paulie?”

“You still remember its name?” Jack laughed loudly and Ellen got up to hit the middle child on the back of his head, “Don’t make fun of you brother.”

“Oh, come on. You have to admit, it's a little funny.”

Luke blushed heavily and Quinn quirked an eyebrow, “Why do you still have that is my question.” He took the bear into his grasp and started fiddling with its arms, “Because.”

She shrugged and all five of the Hughes’ looked intrigued, “Y/n, you have to tell us.” Jack insisted as he leaned forward, messing up the game that had previously been going on. Quinn and Luke groaned at their brother’s actions.

“Because,” She ripped the bear from her boyfriend’s grasp and held it to her chest, “Because it reminds me of that day when I was sad and you guys cheered me up. It was the first day I felt a part of the family.”

“I remember that day.” Luke spoke up, looking between everyone in the room, “Jack and I were sitting on the couch when Quinn opened the door for you and you came in and you looked all…”

“Dead?”

“I was gonna say sad but I guess that works too. Anyway, when you two went up I told Jack my plan and he hesitated about it but I knew he had a soft spot for you so he caved in easily. I ran to my room to get the bear and give it to you.”

“It was a stupid, plan.” Jack laughed again but he knew how much it meant to y/n.

The girl shrugged and hugged Luke from behind, resting her arms on his shoulders as they wrapped around him, classping her hands together, “It’s okay, Luke. I loved it.”

Ellen smiled, “And following, you’ve always been a part of the family. Ever since Quinn came back from freshman orientation just bragging about the girl he met.”

“Mom.” Quinn threw his head back in annoyance and y/n giggled, “You talked to your mom about me? From freshman orientation? Ew, I was just a dork back then.”

“If I remember correctly, Quinn couldn’t stop talking about the girl that wore a Patrick Sharp Blackhawks jersey one or two sizes too big, with her hair in braids who talked about hockey with him for the duration of orientation.” Jim patted his son on his shoulder as Quinn continued to clench his eyes in embarrassment.

“Do we really have to relive this moment?”

“Maybe not now but Ellen and I are definitely going to talk about this when you aren’t around.”

“Hey look at that, she called me Ellen! It only took her ten years.” The woman teased as she wrapped her “daughter” in a hug.

“Hey! I thought I was being respectful, and it’s a force of habit.” Y/n blushed as she smiled and gasped when all of a sudden an armed wrap around her and Quinn pulled her into his lap.

“Quinn!” Quinn hid his face in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply, “I’m never going to live this down.

“Probably not.” Looking at her watch, y/n realized the time, placing a kiss on Quinn’s forehead.

“I should be going to bed, I got work in the morning. Night everyone!”

The four let out their goodnights and Quinn whispered an ‘I love you’ and y/n repeated the words to him before heading into their shared bedroom. The five Hughes’ sat in the kitchen for a couple of minutes in silence until Jack spoke, “So, when are you asking her?”

✧༺✎༻∞

‘The more that you say The less I know’

Freshman Year of College (17-18)

Sitting at one of the tables in the student center, y/n sat across from Quinn as he talked about whatever was going on in the hockey world. She understood hockey, enough to be able to watch the game when it was happening and she knew some of the stats, but anything past that, not a clue in the world.

She loved it when Quinn talked about hockey though. His eyes lit up and held this glint in them, he talked really fast, just spewing out nonsense. It was the highlight of her day when it happened, it was at least once a day if not more. He would always show up outside her dorm room or offer to take her to dinner.

Every time he did, it always took Quinn a while to notice that his girlfriend wasn’t responding and this was the same. Quinn was rambling about Ohio State’s hockey team and the upcoming game against them and she just sat there, amused by his voice and his facial expressions.

Quinn was halfway through his ramble when he finally made eye contact with her, “You’re not paying any attention to this are you?”

“I’m sorry, babe, but it’s really hard to when you look like that when you talk.”

“Look like what? An idiot for not knowing my girlfriend is not listening to any word I say?”

“No, hot.” Quinn’s cheeks reddened as he looked at her, “You never fail to make me blush do you/”

“Absolutely not, and anyway, you know I never understand hockey. I try but it’s all in one ear and out the other.”

“I think one time we need to set up something so you can learn everything you need to know. Get you a book or make you a slide show or something.”

“Sure, Quinny. Whatever you say.”

✧༺✎༻∞

‘Wherever you stray I follow’

September of ‘21

“You can just put that box over there.”

Jack placed down the box where y/n said, “How much stuff do you have?”

“Wow, Jack. Can’t believe you’d be so mean to me. This is why Luke is my favorite.” Y/n placed her arm around Luke as he walked into the apartment, “What?”

“Nothing, you poor innocent little man.” Y/n walked away to start unpacking the box Jack had placed down not too long ago.

“Do you guys need any help?” Luke asked politely following after his brother’s girlfriend.

“Nah, I’m okay. Thanks you guys, just chill out for a little bit before we go out for dinner.” The two nodded sitting on Quinn’s, and now y/n’s, couch.

Just at that moment, Ellen walked in from the hallway and Quinn followed her, “It would be nice of you two to actually help y/n instead of just sitting there.”

Jack threw his arms up, “We offered to help her and she said no!”

“Actually, I offered but yes, she said it was okay.”

Y/n nodded her head, “I did.”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Later that night, y/n and Quinn were standing in the living room, looking out the window. Quinn was standing behind the girl with his arms wrapped around the waist, “I can’t believe this is real.”

“I know, the lights are beautiful.”

“Not that.”

“Then what?” She looked up at him to see a lovesick expression on his face.

“You here, in Vancouver.”

“Hey, you didn’t want me to be here in the first place.”

“Yeah well, I wanted you to do what was best for you. I didn’t want you to move all the way out here just because I was here.”

“How dumb are you?”

“Very, apparently.”

She smiled again and rocked the two of them side to side, “Whatcha wanna do?”

Quinn just winked at her eliciting a giggle from her.

✧༺✎༻∞

‘I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man’

July/August of ‘21 + November 7, 2021

“Quinn please!”

“Y/n, I’m not letting you do this. You had it all planned out since the moment we both got our acceptance letters.”

“I know that Quinn, but things change, plans change. I want to be with you, forever. I want to be wherever you are, please just let me come to Vancouver with you.”

The two stared at each other, eyes locked. They had been arguing for the past hour, ever since y/n brought it up. She had just graduated college and with Quinn having been in the NHL for the past two years she got a taste of what it would be like to do long distance, and it was horrible for both of them.

“You know what is like. These past two years have been horrible, Quinn, and not just for me and you know it.” Her voice cracked, “I would rather wreck everything I have planned for my future just to move to Vancouver for you. I can find a job there.”

“Are you sure, like 100% sure about this?” Y/n placed her hands on his cheeks, “Of course, I’m sure.”

Quinn nodded his head, “When do you want to move in?”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

It was November when y/n was able to go to Quinn’s first home game. It was a Sunday and they were playing the Stars. She was extremely excited as she threw on her jersey and drove to Rogers Arena. She met up with some of the wags that were going to the game as well and they sat in the suite waiting for their husbands to start playing.

When they all came out, they cheered in unison watching them skate. They conversed slightly, giving y/n teasing comments and glances every time the announces would mention Quinn or he had done something even remotely good for the team. It was worse when he got sent to the penalty box for cross-checking in the first period.

Most of them gave her cheeky grins when they showed him in the box, some giving her nudges. She blushed deeply as they made their comments. She didn’t know what was up with him tonight, he got three primary assists and a penalty.

After the game, the wags excitedly took the girl down to the tunnel to wait for Quinn, “Hey, there’s your man.”

Y/n looked up and smiled, “That is my man.”

Quinn smiled brightly, picking the girl up and spinning her around, “I can’t believe you’re here! You’re actually here!”

“Alrighty, Quinny, calm down. You’re causing a scene.”

“Sorry, babe. I’m just really excited that you’re here.” He smiled down at her, his hands on her lower biceps, just above her elbow, “I can tell.”

“What do you say, you guys want to go out for dinner?”

“Quinn I got work in the morning. I need some sleep. Maybe another time though?” The girls nodded their heads at y/n and let the young couple wander off out of the arena and to their car.

“I’m really glad you’re here. I don’t know if I would’ve survived another minute without knowing you weren’t waiting at home for me.”

“Well, you never have to survive another minute without me again. Unless you’re on a road trip then, yes, but you know what I mean.”

Quinn and y/n were so in love it was actually kind of annoying to some people, but they had to admit that they were absolutely adorable.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #sunnylunenhlxts #hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #taylor swift #evermore #willow #Spotify

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querenciasturniolo · 4 months

Text

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #scream #scream inspired #sturniolo #querenciasturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #ghostface

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