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noacfapologyst · 3 days

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telltale heart — matty healy. part 2

´part 1´

summary: you and matty have a pending meeting at some awards where you promised to go as a couple. but something goes wrong.

wc: 2,5k

a/n: hey! i'm so sorry for the lateness. a lot has just happened these days but here is the second part. thanks for the love, x.

The weeks between the awards and the proposal to take Matty as your date have been from the moment he left the studio, the only thing you've ever seen going on in your mind.

You haven't been able to sit down and compose peacefully, or be able to just have a conversation without mentioning him without you slipping through your cheeks. Or that he appears in stains on your writing, the references may be exhaustive at some point, but your brain is about to explode just to think that he'll be there for you, and just for you. You wish his hand would occasionally slip into the waist of the dress you will wear and you would use that touch to keep it forever in your memory.

Even in your best dreams you wouldn't have had the courage to ask him to accompany you to prizes like your date, you can actually stand near him without trembling about it by mere chance.

Two weeks before, you go back to the conversation that tortured you several days ago with your team.

"Matty Healy, are you really sure?" Your manager inquires again, you cross your legs again. It's a sequence you've been living since Friday. "It dissolves your image too much in front of his. I don't know if it fits."

"Really, I don't care." You shrug your shoulders with heaviness. Your image is ruined anyway, but you're not going to let them take this off your hands. "Whether i go with someone or not, there is a stir. I was cheated, remember." You point again and you look at your fingernails, you need to finish defining everything now. "I don't care if it ruins my reputation. Matty is my friend, end of discussion, Helen."

Maybe it's the tone of voice or maybe you've just fed everyone up with it but Helen, your manager for years, sighs and nods with discontent. A winning smile sits on your face. You understand the worry in that office really, but you have one more card to play. You don't really care what his image is from doors to the outside because with everyone around him he's never been more than a gentleman and that's the only thing you really stick with when you have to talk about him.

"Plus, we give the media what they want. The antithesis of Sam." Helen decides it's time to let the argument go and even though her face is a weak grin they decide to move on to the other agenda items.

"Have you decided the dress, at least?" Your innocent smile betrays you and you're nowhere near getting a blow to your head.

You run into a bubble of teenage foolishness, she should understand that. But you won't discuss that either because deep down you've let him look distracted.

"I'll see the dress later, I'll let you know which one I choose." You inform her at the end by taking a sip in the cup of coffee. Helen doesn't make any sound anymore, and you know you've officially won.

Stylists really only want to kill you now or throw some fabric over your head. But they are right in their anger, you shouldn't have waited until the last week to choose the dress or gather too many designers in one place without having a very clear idea of fabrics, cuts and necklines. All you know is it has to be red, it can't be any other color under any forecast.

But it's not that you didn't want to choose it, you just couldn't find the right one. Which is kind of a lie.

No one can deny that there is an attraction in you posturally just by seeing you from afar, there is some light in you that stands out without you trying. You know that you're actually beautiful and that you're lucky enough to fit in dresses and that anything would be fine to show off on you. Your face has small freckles and you have good proportions between your nose, your eyes moderately green and almond, and your round lips. Your hips and abdomen are fine although you've never paid too much attention to them, or at least lately. But you know that your figure is imposing and immutable when the line is drawn between your low back and your high back and everything stands out there.

But this is different, it's a dress for and by Matty. It has to be perfect, not close to it. It may be one of the few opportunities you have in your life to receive his look on your body and make you tremble even just by looking at your cheeks. And that's also why the red dress has to be camouflaged on your cheeks.

In the end you find it and you couldn't be happier with the result. Red satin, straps around the back and neckline. When you test it automatically your body functions like a teenager and you start spinning around it without even finishing tying your high heels properly. But as you see yourself spinning in the mirror a smile sits on your face from ear to ear.

"It honestly feels like it was designed for you." After everyone in the room approves it by nodding as they take the measurements for the final adjustments, your image advisor shows up at the door and his confirmation lets you see that you're going to be relevant at the awards and with several glances on it overshadowing several more artists. "You look like the fucking winner."

And that confirms that you've finally found it. And it's perfect.

---

"Hey." Matty's face appears on your computer screen when he calls you on FaceTime. They haven't seen each other in person since the night at the studio, but their contact has been maintained anyway. "How do you feel about the awards?"

"Why the question?" You better place the device on the table and rest the guitar on your legs. You take the opportunity to spend some time watching how the hair on his front move each time he accommodates the camera.

"I wanted to make sure you remembered that we will be the best couple at the awards." Your heart stops for a second. "Believe me when I tell you that Sam is going to vomit with resentment when he sees us." The archness in his voice, the change of tone, the punctuation of the latter. The silly smile and the wink he makes. Too much for three o'clock in the afternoon.

That's when you realize something else. Ever since Matty became your supposed date, you haven't spent a second thinking about your breakup or your ex or who she's going to take. Just now you're rethinking it.

"You still there?" Matty claps his palms and looks at you from the screen with a frown. He doesn't mean it in a blunt way, but he knows how your brain works and he knows you've frozen to yourself.

"Yes, I don't know, I had forgotten he was going to be there." In fact it's a confession would be because it's realistic. You've been in your pink bubble about Matty that you forgot your ex would be there. "I don't wanna see him. I would like he stop exists sometimes." You laugh silly and he gives it back to you with a supportive look.

"It won't bother you, darling. I'll protect you." You feel like you're gonna throw up rainbows for the next five minutes and you don't know exactly what the trigger is. But luckily you can hear George's voice in the background and you know Matty's going to say goodbye. "See you on Friday. I'll get a red bow for the suit."

"That would be fantastic." You wink at him revealing the color of your dress and he smiles waving his hand around the camera as if he were a small child. "Bye bye, Matty."

When you cut off the call you have your head burning up from the amount of information you're processing right now, and then you go back to the first point you noticed today, the initial cause you owe to being able to go with Matty to the awards has stopped crossing your mind the moment this whole plan happened. It's also when you realize how self-destructive it is to have portal notifications on your computer just to keep abreast of public opinion about you.

You shouldn't let it get to you so much, but it actually does. Sam and her, the girl the rumors of your infidelity fed on and then confirmed, holding hands in front of the last bar you and he went to as a couple, two days before the breakup. His hands on his waist, he looks happier than he ever was with you. Smile more, he has a genuine expression in it. She's cute and it hurts you because you thought you were her ideal type and she, ironically, is completely different from you.

Your breath is cut short and you force yourself not to blink so fast and control the splash in your eyes. Yeah, maybe it's been a few months, but you're back in front of that studio and you're back in front of the words that stuck like a dagger in you when he said he didn't really love you and you just bored him. That feeling makes you get carried away and after weeks of holding back you get carried away and you just cry liberating yourself. At some point you let go of a drowned cry when you think about how you imagined a life full of it or at least imagined it would last more than a few months.

In the epitome of your catharsis you stretch between the guitar and the notebook and reveal that not letting yourself feel in its totality is what has not allowed you to put words in a line. And that is now broken from the moment your fingers prick the guitar in a melancholy and sad way, your thoughts fly and stay on the page when you denote the betrayal in your story, the lie and the reality of the facts. As your facet of strength and pretending smile and well-being collapse and leave you reduced to your tear-filled role, your knees on your head and the floor next to the gray armchair.

Maybe one of the best songs of your career. How you died waiting for a sign that never came even if they had sworn you everlasting love. Like you would actually have given up everything to keep it.

Suddenly you calm down just as quickly as you have acquired the previous state, when you manage to breathe properly thinking that Matty said he would be there and accompany you in front of Sam. That he has used the word protect gushes warmth within you, and you know that you can rejoice in the feeling of affection that he inevitably gives you. Therein lies the essence and effect Matty has on you and how important his friendship is to every aspect of your life. He's been there in every stage of your life and he's never stopped accompanying you even when he wasn't at his best.

Then you relax thinking about how lucky you are to be able to take him to those awards regardless of the terms agreed between the two and what the media put on. At the end of the day you'll be going to the awards that you and him have been talked about for thousands of nights being the best choice of both because understanding was never faked and that chemistry is always instantaneous.

When you realize you're tapping the guitar without a predetermined note, it's glimpsed between scratches of melancholy and a pink bubble. But now you're back to your usual thoughts and now you can't stop thinking about Matty dressed in a suit (and looking awesome, by the way) with him basically matching you in his tie.

Since you open your eyes on Friday, the day becomes chaos. Dress test, hair test and make-up test. The walk in heels, the review of the speech. Thinking about what to say about the breakup, that your figure remains dazzling no matter if the person able to disarm you is the one standing next to you. Both for your ex-partner and your date. Then they'll come and tell you about your nomination and how some song will be better than yours. The vicious circle of being an artist.

You wish it was a quick day, but it becomes extremely heavy. You hardly have time to stop for a drink of water and when you realize you are already changed for the event.

You look in the mirror with your stylist and then he starts to take shots while he changes between different angles to have the best pictures. Your hair is semi collected in a braid from behind and only a few waves break off on the wind but it gives the feeling that you have a princess collection and is not in danger of collapse.

Your dress gets all the attention, you look taken off the cover of a magazine. The red satin falls on you adjusting your curves and marking your figure in a rather attractive way to see, the cut on the leg does not take out the dainty of the dress. Your neckline falls on a beak held by a very thin thick straps that connect the dress with the neckline at the back, leaving your back open only with a few straps crossing to your low back.

You're perfect but you can't help but want to bite your nails because you feel there's something still missing even though you're being manic checking your makeup all the time. And if it wasn't because you don't have a second for your stylist to talk to you about important things, you'd have tried to touch up your makeup many more times.

When you get in the limo, you breathe until you calm down, and then you have a millisecond to talk to Matty.

see you, x

hey

we're coming for you soon

You turn off the phone and leave it on the seat when you feel your manager's gaze pointing at you.

"Where's Matty?" You ask after a while starting to listen to your senses that tells you something is wrong. They should have passed Matty's house a few miles ago, and your heart speeds up when you know you are entering the freeway.

Your phone vibrates and lets you see the Brit's messages making you form a thick grimace between your lips. Your brow automatically frowns and you feel your makeup heavy as you read each word carefully and feel like someone is playing a heavy joke on you.

only a thing

if you promise someone a date you have to keep it or at least warn that it's a fucking joke

Your vision becomes blurry for a few moments and you feel your world just stop in front of a polarized window and the body of the seat. You don't want to believe that what your head is thinking is actually what's going on, you can't just go overboard like that. The chances were very slim.

And then, come the words that confirm how you dug your own grave without it being your fault. You feel like someone's slapping you right where it hurts the most.

"Oh yes, about that. Matty isn't a good look for you, so we just got you someone else. You'll thank me later."

actually i think it sucks but will be rewarded in the next part? anyway let me know what you think <333

#matty healy #matty the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #matty fic #matty healy blurb #telltale heart au

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captainsphinxart · 3 days

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Hello everyone ! I finally post the first chapter of my very first fanfiction. I hope you will all like it! Don't hesitate to tell me your opinion. Completely SFW Summary: 10 years after the events of Hogwarts Legacy, Amelia (my MC) and Sebastian are now aurors assigned to the task to find the new leader of the Ashwinders, the younger brother of Victor Rookwood. Their investigations lead them back to Hogwarts where they get to become professors to stay undercover. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Heart's in the Highlands

A Hogwarts Legacy FanFic, 10 years later.

Chapter One : Paperwork

Amelia was hard at work in the Auror's office on this beautiful and sunny monday morning. She was busy writing a report on her last investigation. Yet the young Auror was struggling to remember today's date which she needed to write on it. Her mind was simply elsewhere, thinking of how she could be enjoying a nice walk in the countryside as she felt the warmth of the sun caressing her face through the window. Although she had the chance to travel the country with her work and often explore the countryside to hunt dark wizards, she missed her blithesome days at Hogwarts. At that time of her life, she had the freedom and time to roam the Highlands and discover their secrets, of enjoying sunny afternoons lying in the grass with the ones she loved. Flashes of tender teenage memories crossed Amelia's mind, and the need of writing the date on her report was now a distant memory.

That is when a familiar voice, which at first she thought was coming from her memories, brought her back to reality. “Amelia? Would you like a coffee?”, Sebastian pronounced softly as he delicately put his hand on her shoulder, obviously understanding she was daydreaming. The grey-haired witch jumped slightly, however part of her was still away. As, indeed, Sebastian's voice was already part of the memories she was reminiscing about, before he even pronounced these words. In her daydreamings, he was still the conflicted mischievous Slytherin boy she fell in love with. He was still that Scottish freckled teen with brown messy hair, a mysterious grin on his face and yet terribly sad dark eyes. After a few seconds, Amelia got a grip on herself and her gaze crossed his. She realised her day inside wasn't that dull in fact. With him by her side, almost everyday was a sunny day. Now she could see before her eyes the man this boy had become. Although the wounds of the past had not been fully healed yet, he radiated with happiness, especially around Amelia. Sebastian was now a proud young auror, with a determined attitude and elegant looks. However, the messy hair remained, the Feldcroft boy was still there inside. Whenever Amelia took a moment to observe the young wizard, she saw both past and present Sebastian, witnessing how far he had come. This made her love him even more and she was immensly proud of him. Finally, the most recent addition to her boyfriend's look was a moustache. Yet another reason to love him more. She remembered with endearment the evening spent with Sebastian in the Three Broomsticks at the end of their seventh year when she suggested to him the moustache look. They chatted around a good butterbeer of what they would look like as Aurors in the future. Amelia could clearly see him with a neat little moustache. And to think that now what she imagined became true.

All of these thoughts crossed Amelia's mind as she looked at her boyfriend, who was still waiting for her answer. “I'm sorry dear, it seems my mind did not want to be here. I would love a coffee, please.”, observed the young witch, smiling tenderly to her lover. “I didn't realise it was pause time already”, she murmured, almost to herself. “Alright then, I'll go make some coffee.” Sebastian said ending his sentence with a soft kiss on her head. “You should go for a small walk, even inside, it'll wake you up.” he concluded. He was just about to turn away when Amelia stopped him. “Sebastian wait! One more thing. What is the date today? I feel like my mind's a bit foggy. I can't remember.”, the witch confessed. “The date? Ha ha ha! You really do need to wake up! Today's Monday the 10th of September 1900.”, Sebastian answered. With these words, Amelia got up fastly from her chair, as if to finally put an end to her state of half-sleep. A caring chuckle escaped the young man's mouth while seeing this scene. He then walked away to make coffee, with a grin on his face. He was probably trying to come up with something to tease her a bit, as he always did. As for Amelia, she sighed as she remember all the work she had to do after the pause. She brushed her skirt with a swift and expert motion of her hands. She pulled a little the ends of her brown velvety vest to put it back in place. And she brought her loose hair behind her back. Having a respectable appearance while walking through the office corridors was utterly important to Amelia. Anyone would agree this was very Ravenclaw of her. Feeling satisfied with her looks, she walked to the door of their office.

After entering the corridor, Amelia closed the door of her office, took a deep breath to prepare for whoever she would meet, and took a glance left and right. Her careful behaviour was due to the fact that, although passing her Auror training with flying colors and having made her marks in the job for three years, the young witch was still one of the few female Aurors at the moment. She had to suffer frequent comments from her coworkers, even though most of the time unintentionnal. Amelia knew how to defend herself but still, this situation made her a bit nervous. No one was in sight in the endless corridor of the Ministry, with its dusty red carpeting and gloomy portraits of former Head Aurors. Amelia always thought the Ministry had a strange and heavy atmosphere, she felt uncomfortable here.

She decided to walk in the direction of the Head Auror's office, maybe she would have the chance to chat sometime with him. The Head Auror at the time was Maynard Dunn who had been chosen for his skills and not for the reknown of his family. He proved his capacities many times in breaking many Poacher networks up in the United Kingdom. This 45 year-old wizard was the one who recognised Amelia and Sebastian as useful recruits and approved their application. He quickly became a mentor to both of them. Amelia appreciated him especially for the fact that he made no difference between her and male Aurors. Unfortunately, to reach Dunn's office, Amelia needed to cross one of the open cublicles where the other Aurors worked. Part of her feared their comments, but what were some looks and comments to someone who had single-handedly vanquished Ranrok as a fifteen year-old. The young witch gathered her courage and opened the door to the cubicle.

There, she met the one person she feared to meet: Dunn's secretary. He was a small and round man who tended to forget Amelia was an Auror, although being a woman. “Ah! Miss Grayson, I was hoping to see you this morning. I am still waiting for your report.”, he exclaimed while checking his notebook. “I am currently working on it, sir.”, Amelia answered politely. “Currently? Obviously not since you're there in front of me.”, barked the little man. Amelia was boiling, she wished she could change him into a quill and use it to write her report. As she was about to answer, the secretary ignored her and turned away to talk to another Auror: “Good day to you Agent McLaggen, how was your week-end?”. “Agent?”, Amelia thought to herself, “I never get to be called Agent Grayson...”. There was no point in remaining here. She took a quick glance at the buzzing office: some Aurors where laughing around a cup of coffee, some others where writing frenetically on brand new parchment, while others were frowning incredibly hard at their files as if they were suffering from extreme pains. Amelia then continued her walk to the Head Auror's office and left the cubicle to enter another corridor. She was almost there when she met exactly who she wanted to, Maynard Dunn. Surprisingly enough, the man was accompanied by a teen girl with long dark hair. She gave a penetrating look to Amelia which caught her off-guard. Thousands of questions where running through her mind as she approached the unusual duo.

Hearing the young Auror's footsteps on the carpeting, Dunn turned towards her and smiled. The teen's face remained cold, she seemed to be analysing Amelia from head to toe. The silver-haired witch pretended not to notice it and gave Maynard Dunn a handshake. “I'm glad you're here Amelia, there is an important matter we need to discuss.”, the Head Auror told her. “I'm all ears sir, but I just have one question. I don't recall we take interns, don't we ?”, immediately replied Amelia with her signature delicate sarcasm that would have made Sebastian melt if he was here. She gave a head sign in direction of the teen girl. The black-haired teen raised an eyebrow at this and her eyes were casting sparks of defiance. Amelia only smiled at her, already feeling a good chemistry between them. “Excuse me ladies, I almost forgot the introductions. Amelia, this is my niece Yana. I am escorting her to her trial for underage sorcery. It's only a simple formality as she was protecting herself but the ministry insists in using this case as an example. Yana, meet Amelia Grayson, she is one of my most valued agents.”, explained Dunn.

Amelia was particularly surprised by this underage sorcery trial story, as she had never been investigated over her use of magic outside of Hogwarts when she was Yana's age. And this law was already in place at the time. The young witch used to fight dark wizards and goblins in the Highlands as if she was already an Auror, and the ministry never said anything. “Nice to meet you Yana, what house are you in ?”, finally said Amelia offering the teenager her hand to shake. Yana seemed reticent at first, but she ended up returning Amelia her handshake. “I'm a proud Slytherin. And let me guess, you used to be in Ravenclaw, am I right?”, answered Yana with a teasing smile. Amelia could not hold back a giggle as she realised how obvious she was. At the same time, she felt like she was back ten years ago in the corridors of Hogwarts. That made a thrilling feeling of both nostalgia and excitement buzz in her chest, the feeling of Hogwarts. “That's wonderful, I've always got along well with Slytherins.” answered back Amelia with a smile.

Her attention was then quickly drawn back to the “important matter” the Head Auror mentioned. “So? What was it you wanted to tell me?”, asked the young Auror to Dunn, her face suddenly serious. Dunn took a quick glance around him as if he feared someone could be spying on them. The Head Auror suggested they should join Sebastian in their office as he needed to hear it too. Unlike other Aurors, Sebastian and Amelia had a shared office of their own, as they were assigned to a special case of national importance. The Head Auror had them in high esteem, which was the reason why he assigned them to the surveillance of the Ashwinder network. Considering the duo's unusually high experience with Ashwinders for their young age, it was obvious they would be assigned to this matter. They had to continue what they had started as Hogwarts students, especially for Amelia who helped take down Victor Rookwood himself. Amelia and Sebastian had been hard at work on this matter recently, with the help of various Aurors in the field.

Whispers had been spreading across the country about the rise of a new leader for the Ashwinders. A young dark wizard was rummored to be gaining power among the organisation. This wizard was no less that Victor Rookwood's younger brother, Hector Rookwood. The Aurors knew little about this man or about his true intentions, although they feared he could be seeking revenge. They also were unaware of his exact location since Rookwood Castle was under the control of the Ministry now. Finding his location was their primary goal and any information was good to take. It appeared as though this man learned from the mistakes of his brother and knew how to hide from the authorities. Hector Rookwood was a shadow. Trying to find this man was like trying to catch smoke, trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. For now at least, as Rookwood and his Ashwinders would start to act sooner or later. And Amelia had the feeling what Maynard Dunn wanted to tell them could be of a great help in their research. All three of them went back to Amelia and Sebastian's office.

When Amelia crossed the cubicle she passed in earlier, now in company of the Head Auror, all came quiet and stared at them. Some looks where filled with jealousy towards Amelia. The trio quickly reached the office and entered. As soon as he saw them, Sebastian raised an eyebrow, then gave Amelia a questioning look. To which, the silver-haired girl answered, as if she knew what he was about to ask before even hearing it. “Mr. Dunn has something important to tell us, Seb. And this is Yana, his niece who's here at the Ministry for her underage sorcery trial.” Sebastian took a glance at the teenager, “Slytherin attitude” he thought. He then hit the Head Auror with his piercing gaze and his mischievous smile. “So, sir? What is it?”

Dunn cleared his throat and asked all of them to sit. “I have bad news, which are sort of good news for you, my young Aurors.” Amelia and Sebastian exchanged an excited look, expecting to learn something about Hector Rookwood. “The reason why my niece here has been charged for underage sorcery is she defended herself and an old man. They were attacked by a small group of dark wizards in the countryside of Hogwarts. You two more than anyone know that these kind of attacks are extremely rare. Last time it happened you were still at Hogwarts. However, the reason I'm telling you this is because... They were attacked by Ashwinders.”

Amelia glanced at Sebastian. The young man was frowning, he was staring at his feet. She already knew his blood was starting to boil. After sometime, he broke the silence. “When did it happen?”, he said coldly. Dunn was about to answer but his niece was quicker. “About a month ago.” said the young Slytherin. Dunn did not wanted her to interviene but it was too late. Sebastian, who was still staring at his feet, suddenly sat up straight and gave a black look to the Head Auror. Amelia wondered if she should interviene. She knew how upset he was about the fact that Dunn waited so long to inform them, and worse kept the information secret to everyone. In a fraction of seconds, Sebastian stood up and leaned towards Dunn from across his desk. His partner could feel he was trying to fight his anger. “With all due respect sir, why? Why did you wait so long to tell us? WHAT IF THESE ASHWINDERS HAD PLANNED OTHER ATTACKS? IF WE HAD KNOWN WE COULD HAVE PREVENTED THEM! YOU'RE LUCKY THIS IS HYPOTHETIC!” Amelia gently took the young man's arm and suggested him to sit with a soft pat on the shoulder. “Please, dear, calm down. I hate seeing you like this... And I'm sure Mr. Dunn had good reasons to do so and planned every possibility. At least I hope so.” With these words, the freckled wizard took a seat and gave her a pitiful look. “I'm sorry...”, Sebastian whispered before looking away to the window. He noticed the bright morning sun had already been covered by clouds. London's heavy pollution was not helping either.

On the side, Yana who realised she had made a mistake hid her eyes behind her fringe. As to Amelia she only gave Dunn a deeply concerned look. The Head Auror finally spoke. “I understand your anger Sebastian. However, I needed a moment before telling you two, to do some arrangements.” Dunn paused to evaluate their reaction. They both were expecting him to continue and their serious frowns were clear. Dunn smiled. “As we finally have intel on aggressive and unusual Ashwinder activity, I'm sure you two will want to investigate further the region. Which means you'll need a place to stay, a cover and an office. I have found a perfect solution to that and went through the required formalities. Said formalities that took about a month.” Dunn paused again, to create some suspense. Amelia and Seb appeared to be surprised. “It came to my attention that even though the school year has already started, Hogwarts is still lacking a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and an Ancient Studies professor. And there I thought, you two would be perfect for these jobs and it would be the perfect cover. As I said I contacted Professor Weasley and you will start next week.”

Amelia's jaw dropped. As for Sebastian, he appeared to be confused, he did not know how to react. Both of them stayed silent as they were speechless. “So, Professor Grayson you will teach DADA and Professor Sallow you will teach Ancient Studies. You will have a room in Hogwarts and the local agents will assist you if needed. Esop Sharp will make you a presentation of the local Auror network as soon as you arrive. I have already booked two Hogwarts Express tickets and organised the transfer of your belongings. I also charged my secretary to order all the supplies you need for your job.” Amelia finally managed to speak although still being somehow confused. “Are you sure about all this sir?” The Head Auror grinned and reassured her. “Well haven't you both told me about the fact you wanted to slowly find a way to settle down a bit? I'm sure having a job at Hogwarts, although for now being to investigate and fight dark wizards, will end up being the best path to a calmer life.” Finally, Amelia and Sebastian shared a look, they both agreed with Dunn's proposition. Though it was more an order than a proposition.

“Alright, we'll do that.”, agreed Sebastian. “Fantastic! I must say this situation was unhoped for. Professor Hecat retired last year and the school has been struggling to find a new teacher. Same thing for the position of Ancient Studies professor, it has been difficult to make a long term contract with a professor for this subject ever since Eleazar Fig's passing.” At the mention of Professor Fig's name, Sebastian immediately grabbed Amelia's hand to make sure she was alright. Of course it hurt, but she was eager to return to Hogwarts. She would see the Highlands again.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts oc #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy mc #wizarding world #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fandom

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auteurdelabre · 2 months

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As long as you want - Part 2 - Joel!Miller x f!Reader

pairing: Joel!Miller x f!Reader

words: 4.5k

Rating: PG13 (some adult themes)

Summary: You try to ignore the growing attraction you feel for Joel Miller as he shows you his softer side.

Tags: Enemies to friends/lovers, Fluff, Mutual Pining, mentions of pain medication, stubborn reader, Joel POV in parts, Tooth-Rotting sweetness in parts, allusions of male masturbation/fantasy, sexual tension, NO y/n.

a/n: Originally gonna be a one-shot but y'all wanted more and I can't say no to ya!

Dedicated to @katiexpunk once more because there's a good chance if she didn't reach out to me the other day, I was about to quit tumblr altogether.

part ONE here

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You wake with a start hours later. The blanket over you feels heavy and the ache in your ribs is sharp. You squirm to relieve the pressure and pause when the sound of light breathing reaches your ears.

You're not alone in your bed.

Your eyes crack open to see a familiar face tilted towards you. Eyes shut languidly, mouth parted, face slack with sleep.

Joel Miller.

Up this close you can see the bits of grey in his beard and moustache, the lines at the corner of his closed eyes, the gold of his skin.

His jacket is slung over yours on the chair and a quick glance down tells you he's taken off his boots and is sleeping on top of the covers. As you take this in you also see that your hand is clasped in his, fingers laced.

How did Joel fucking Miller end up in your bed? And how did your hand end up wrapped up in his?

You want to mull on this further but the acute ache in your ribs has started to throb. You let out a small whimper at the pain and like he's been shot Joel jerks his head up from the pillow, awake like a broad-shouldered bear, bleary -eyed and blinking. You drag your hand back from his loosened grip.

"You in pain?" Joel murmurs voice thick and mind fuzzy with sleep. He licks his dry lips, clearing his throat. "Need me to grab you another pill?"

The way he speaks is so casual, as if the two of you were lovers waking from a dreamy night together. So opposite to what you really are: two people who can barely stand each other.

"What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Miller?" You snap sharply.

Miller.

No more Joel. No more soft eyes and softer smile for him. As Joel suspected the pill did a number on you and you can't remember much. You don't remember begging him for a kiss and asking Joel to lay with you. You don't remember your murmured acknowledgement that you felt better with him nearby.

It's back to how it's always been.

Joel manages to swallow his disappointment before clamoring off the bed, hearing the cheap springs creak in your mattress as he does.

"Sorry about that," he says gruffly as he pulls on his boots. "Was just tired I guess."

"I'm sure your own bed is perfectly adequate," you snap, the pain making you even more irritable than usual. You hiss, holding your side. Joel frowns.

"I'll head out, just lemme grab you a pill first."

"Just g-"

"Quit it," Joel insists roughly. "You're in pain and this'll only take a sec."

His head is woozy from waking so abruptly. He blinks again before he spots your jeans on the floor. You watch him crouch down, pulling the small white pill from the pocket before he comes back to you, the small pill balanced on one wide fingertip.

"Take it," he instructs.

But you're in too much pain to move, to take it from him. You're also too proud to admit it, hating that he's already seen you in such a vulnerable state. You want him to leave so he doesn't witness more of your wincing and the way your face is gone sickly pale with perspiration beading at your forehead.

"Just leave it on the table."

"You need it now. I can see you're hurtin'."

"Joel just-"

He takes advantage of your mouth open in complaint, slipping his finger between your parted lips and placing the pill onto your tongue as your mouth closes around his forefinger in surprise.

The sensation of Joel's wide finger on your tongue startles you into silencing, lips quickly circling his digit. Joel forces his focus to your eyes, knowing if he sees your lips around his finger he's going to lose it.

You feel his heavy gaze on you as he towers above you standing next to the bed. You watch the way his eyes seem to grow darker.

"Swallow."

Your own pupils blow wide at the rasped order. He feels the soft of your tongue dabbing against the pad of his finger.You stare up at him in shock before you feel the pill being pressed to your tongue and only then do you swallow.

Satisfied Joel slides his finger out of your mouth before letting it rest on the plump flesh of your lower lip.

His eyes never leave yours.

"Frustratin' woman," Joel murmurs, finger lingering on your lower lip as he stares at you. Your cheeks heat as your eyelids flutter briefly.

Then suddenly he's walking away from you, his hand stretching before turning into a fist. You watch his tall form lope out of your bedroom and then he's gone from sight.

///

Kiss me again, Miller.

The words haunt him. The memory of your lips snagged between his own. The way you'd sighed as you snuggled up against him.

How is he supposed to forget that? How is he supposed to pretend things haven't changed?

He throws the front door open, thankful it's empty. Ellie must be at school. He goes to pour himself a drink, even though it's a bit early for it.

He can still feel your tongue against his finger, the way your mouth was so warm and wet and fuck... He's so hard he can't stand it.

He moves to his bedroom, his breathing labored as he shucks off his jeans and shirt, collapsing onto the bed with a growl.

He takes himself in hand and tries to picture you and your soft mouth. The mattress squeaks under him as he starts fisting himself to the memory of your murmured confession, to the sensation of your mouth under his.

I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Miller.

But it doesn't work, he can't get there no matter how much he strokes and focuses. You weren't yourself when you told him that. You weren't in your right mind when you kissed him. It doesn't feel right.

He lets himself go with a frustrated growl. And even as he pulls his clothes on and goes about his day he can't get you out of his mind.

There's a softness to you that he's uncovered. Something you keep hidden. Something he desperately wants to unearth in you again without the aid of pain medication. But then he remembers the horror on your face as you found him in your bed and he feels the shame suffuse him.

"Stop it," he tells himself as he heads out into the cold. "Just stop it."

///

The night moves sluggishly with you attempting to nap for most of it, your pain pill thankfully knocking you out for most of it. You wake to the rap of your front door.

"Come in," you offer hoarsely.

You hear tentative footsteps and try to swallow down the pain blooming in your ribs. Gemma is at your door with a bowl of what smells like soup and smiling gently. You notice that her hair is flecked with fresh snow.

"Hi there," she says approaching you. "Thought I'd check in on my patient."

You try to bring yourself to a sitting position but end up crying out. Gemma places the soup on your bedside table, her hand flying to your forehead before she's gently moving up your shirt, eyeing your bruise.

"No fever, thankfully. Swelling is as expected." Her eyes flick to your agonized expression. "Pain bad?"

"I'll survive."

"Good thing Joel was in the stables with you yesterday morning."

"Mhmm."

That's all you'll offer. You have no desire to tell her about waking up to finding the man in your bed.

You feel your stomach gurgle as the scent of the soup wafts over to you. Gemma gives a sympathetic look before passing you the other pillow.

"Squeeze this. I'm gonna sit you up."

You do so; a yelp of pain is bitten back before you're propped up in your bed against the pillows. You're still at an angle but it's do-able. Gemma brings a chair to the side of your bed, eyes alighting to your face.

She does a few more examinations, fingers pressing against your side, her cold stethoscope pressing into your sternum.

She produces an ice pack wrapped in fabric that she presses to your bruised flesh. You yelp at the sensation despite her warning that it will be cold.

"Sorry," she says ducking her head. "I know it's chilly. Gotta wear this twenty minutes, two times a day. Keeps the bruising down."

"Fine."

"You been drinking fluids?"

"Yep," you lie. You have No desire to share with her that the reason you're not drinking is because then you'd have to get up to pee. And the thought of getting up out of this bed seems torturous.

"Looks like its just rest you need then," she tells you as she digs around in her pocket. "Now I brought some more pills-"

"I'm not taking any more pills," you interrupt her firmly, even as sweat beads at your temple.

She goes to reply when there's another knock sounds at the door.

Who is it now? The fucking Jackson City welcoming committee?

"Come in," you sigh.

You hear the scuffle of heavy boots and your heart jumps when Joel appears at the door. He's holding a bowl of soup, the same as Gemma. Almost immediately you feel the air change when your eyes land on his before they skitter away anxiously.

"Uh, thought you might be hungry." Joel glances over at Gemma. "How's the patient?"

"She's fine," you snap.

"Stubborn," Gemma sighs. "She won't take the pain pills."

"You barely have any," you say to her, ignoring Joel standing awkwardly in your bedroom doorframe.

"Well if you'd let me finish you'd know we learned about a shipment delivered in Teton Village," Gemma tells you patiently. "Gonna grab it when the snow clears."

Joel perks up when he hears that. He can see by the blanching of your face and the way you're gripping the bed sheets that you're in a lot of pain. But you're scowling at the news, not looking the least bit impressed with Gemma's news.

"That could be weeks with the snow," you inform her. "The snow is brutal this time of year, not to mention the freezing winds. No one is gonna wanna go out to get it."

"But the point is we have a supply on route," Gemma argues. “So you can take these.”

"And when that shipment is brought back to Jackson and we see how much is in it, I'll take some pills then."

"You're in pain," she tells you firmly. "A lot of it."

"I'd be in more pain if I knew I was taking everything from the community," you snap back.

The pain is not just in your ribs, it feels like it's everywhere. Your head is throbbing, your body aching and you want everyone to just fuck off.

"You need sleep to heal-"

"You really wanna help me?" You grunt out through waves of pain. "Send me over some booze so I can get shitfaced and pass out."

Gemma can tell there's no reasoning with you.

"I got whiskey at mine," Joel offers softly to Gemma. "I can bring it over if she needs it."

"She doesn't need whiskey," Gemma sighs. "She needs medication so she can get proper sleep and start to heal."

"I'm right here," you grumble, hating how they're talking about you as if you don't exist. You slam your eyes shut.

"If you're not getting me whiskey I'd like to politely ask you both to leave so I can sleep."

You hear the two of them pausing, likely exchanging exasperated looks before you hear their dual footsteps head out the door.

///

Hours later your side hurts so fucking much that you're almost tempted to crawl over to the Jackson clinic and beg for those pills but you stop yourself. You did this to yourself; you went into that fucking pen.

Taking all the community's painkillers would be so impossibly selfish a thing to do because of your own stupid actions. You can't do it. Maybe when the new shipment of medication comes by.

There's a gentle rap at the door and desperation is making you consider asking whomever is at the door to get you some dinner. You're starving and so thirsty. Your mouth is like a desert. It's so dry you can barely call out to whoever is standing outside your door.

There's another knock and you can only offer a mournful sound of pain in reply. You hear the door opening and those familiar heavy footsteps thud to your bedroom.

He's so broad, so tall, so serious looking. His shoulders nearly take up the frame of your door.

"What do you want Miller?" You croak.

"Nothin'," he replies in that familiar raspy tone of his, like dry leaves in autumn.

"You sure?" You sneer. "Thought you might be coming over for another slumber party."

Joel's cheeks go pink at that but he just swallows and comes to take the seat Gemma left beside the bed earlier in the day.

"Nah I'm all rested up," he tells you smirking. It's then that you notice the amber colored bottle in his left hand. Your brows rise.

"Is that whiskey?"

Joel nods. "You got clean glasses?"

"Glasses yes," you wince as you squirm and feel a stab of pain go through you. "Clean? Unsure."

Joel smiles before his attention is drawn to the two soups at your bedside table, still untouched because you can't move enough to get at them.

"You eat yet?"

"No."

Joel nods before he replaces the soup bowls with the whiskey bottle and strides from your room.

"What're you doing?"

"Gonna reheat it."

"Just hand me the whiskey bottle."

You know you sound petulant but you don't care. You want something that will help take the edge off.

"You're in no position to be givin' orders," Joel tells you over his shoulder as he approaches your small hotplate.

He looks around your space, finding his lips curling into an amused smile. He didn't really notice the other day but your kitchen is a disaster. Bowls, plates and forks are piled on top of each other in the sink. Your counters are littered with crumbs and pencils and odds and ends.

"Your place is a mess," he calls out to you.

"Yeah well I've been sort of busy the last twenty four hours," you snap back loudly. "Haven't exactly had much time for housekeeping."

Joel huffs a quiet laugh to himself before moving to look at your cooking surfaces.

Your hotplate is in decent shape, probably because you take most of your meals in the dining hall. He knows because he often finds you eating with Ellie there. The two of you get along well. You're one of the few people she seems to stand without too much trouble.

Joel catches sight of himself in the reflection of the kitchen window. He sees the gentle smile on his face before commanding it into a frown.

Why the fuck am I here? She can barely stand me.

But he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. He needs to know you're okay, needs to know you're being taken care of. He knows you live alone, that you're more stubborn than he is and he's been anxious all day that you've needed help.

That you've needed him.

Back in your bedroom you hear Joel moving things in your kitchen, locating a pot, finding a mixing spoon (when he does you hear him mumbling to himself and then the tap running).

Eventually he comes back with the soup in one of your clean bowls and a spoon. He looks at you critically laying half wedged before he puts the bowl on the table.

"Hold the pillow to your stomach."

You want to argue that you can eat perfectly fine like that but the smell of the tomato soup has your mouth watering. You do as he says, holding the pillow tightly to your midsection.

Your eyes widen as Joel leans over the bed, wrapping his muscled arms around you by the middle, holding you tightly to him to keep you stabilized, the pillow between you.

"Gonna help you scoot up," he murmurs at your temple. "Ready?"

"'Kay."

You feel breathless as Joel slowly pulls you to a sitting position. And despite how gentle and slow he is with his motions, the pain still takes your breath away.

You let out a shattered cry before your forehead crashes into his shoulder. Your body is tensed, aching.

You're so angry, so frustrated, in so much pain you just want to cry and scream.

"S'okay," Joel soothes. You feel his hand cupping the back of your head. "Go on and let it out."

You don't even hesitate. You let out a small scream of exhausted pain against where his shoulder and neck meet, tears springing from your eyes as you do. All are muffled by the flannel he wears, coming out suppressed.

"I know, I know," he soothes as he feels your tears soak his shirt. "I know that pain. Makes you feel angry at the whole world, right?"

You give a whimpered reply of agreement.

He's right. You are. You're angry at the horse, you're angry at yourself, you're angry at the clicker is you're angry at Joel and Gemma and anyone who's ever talk to you. You're also mad at yourself for getting you into this position. You just so fucking angry and in pain.

Joel sees you gripping the sheets as he holds you.

"Just breathe," Joel tells you quietly.

"Can't," you mutter against his shoulder. "Ribs."

You hear a soft chuckle from him and it reverberates into your body, despite the pillow. It makes you almost want to smile. He releases you gently against the pillows, looking at your red-rimmed eyes and holding in a sigh at your exhausted countenance.

He takes a seat in the chair and you watch Joel spin the spoon in your soup, before placing the bowl under your chin and bringing the spoon to your mouth.

"I can feed myself," you tell him shortly, but there's no ire in your tone.

He nods and you take the spoon and bowl in hand. He sits back on the chair watching you eat hurriedly. He opens his mouth to tell you to slow down but clamps it shut again.

He leaves and returns with a glass of water that you take eagerly and finish with a gulp. Joel refills it three more times and you finish each with gusto.

He takes the empty bowl and spoon from you, taking your dishes to the kitchen and then returning.

"Better?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I don't think I realized how hungry I was."

Joel continues to look at you with a strange little smile on his face. You feel like you're being studied by him and it makes you frown. You're about to ask him if you have something on your face when a sharp pain goes through your ribs and you grasp at your side wincing.

"Alright you did good with eatin'," Joel reasons. "You kept your end of the bargain so I will too."

He pours you a small glass of whiskey in a clean glass before handing it over. You take it greedily, throwing it back. It burns all the way down, a delicious sensation that has you grinning into your glass.

"Was wonderin' if I'd ever see that again," Joel muses before pouring a first glass for himself and a second for you. You bring the glass back to your mouth, confused.

"See what again?"

"Your smile."

You don't know how to respond to that so you just look at the bottom of your refilled glass awkwardly. Joel takes a small sip of his whiskey, watching as you throw your second glass back as well.

"Slow down," he urges gently. "No point in doin' this if you're just gonna throw it back up."

He has a point. He pours you a third and gives you a stern look when you take the glass from him.

"Sipping only."

"Don't order me around, Miller," you say sharply. "This isn't patrols."

Joel rolls his eyes at you, amused and exasperated all at once. You're such a hard little shell, so impenetrable at times. Joel thought he was guarded, but you're something else.

The two of you sit in quiet, listening to the sound of the whistling wind against your home. You sip the whisky, wishing you weren't in so much pain when you breathed. You glance around your room, wishing it was tidier.

Joel watches you, sees the way your eyes flit around the room and wonders if he could ever bring up the other night without you being horrified.

"Why're you being so nice to me?' you ask suddenly, breaking the spell. "You're never nice."

"Sure I am,” Joel says looking affronted.

"Not to me."

"I brought you home didn't I? Brought you whiskey? Cooked you dinner? I ain't all bad."

"You didn't cook me dinner. You heated it up."

"My favorite kinda cookin'," Joel reasons with a smile. The whiskey has him feeling warm and relaxed.

You feel an amused smirk start at the corner of your mouth. You suppress it with a gentle sip of your drink. You let it coat your tongue slowly before you let it drip down your throat.

"How come you're so mean to me?" Joel offers, though his tone is light.

"I am not!"

He sees the flash of irritation in your eyes immediately and he can't help but be amused. It's very easy for him to rile you up.

"Are so."

"You started it!" You insist, wincing and the words come out louder than anticipated, the force of your irritation causing your ribs to ache. Joel is still leaning back insouciantly in his chair, regarding you with gentle amusement.

"How'd you figure that?"

"My first day on patrols, I was trying so hard to be nice and do you remember what you said the second you saw me?"

"Nope."

"You said; Don't know why they'd stick me with a newbie,” you say trying to imitate his raspy baritone.

"So?" Joel looks genuinely perplexed. "You were a newbie and I didn't know why they sent you to do patrols with me. Didn't know you were an experienced rider at the time."

You falter a moment. You hadn't been expecting that response.

"You were so rude," you insist, irritated that he's trying to pretend like he wasn't in the wrong. "Telling me I was holding my gun wrong, making fun of how I was riding."

Joel takes a moment, looking at the ceiling as he tries to recall your first meeting. He knows he thought you were attractive, he remembers that he was confused they'd paired the two of you up until he'd seen you ride. Your form was comical, but you were good on horseback, even better than him.

But he doesn't remember disliking you that first day.

That came later, after your snide comments and rolled eyes. When you shouldered past him in the dining hall and ignored him when he tried to greet you as you walked by him in town. He'd thought you were an uptight brat, a rude woman who put on airs. He'd had no clue he'd offended you that first day.

"From what I recall I suggested a different way to hold your gun because each time you shot it knocked your shoulder," Joel says remembering. "And as for the riding... Well, you do look funny when you ride. Even if you're good at it, you bounce too much."

"Better than that stupid way you roll your hips," you bite back.

You can picture it now, one hand on the reigns, tilted back, hips rolling with each step of the horse. Joel raises the glass to his mouth, eyes stuck on yours.

"Why're you watchin' my hips?"

His voice is a low purr and there it is again. That thread of teasing that borders on something else. Something... Enticing. It reminds you of the other day in the stables, before everything had gone pear shaped.

You think I'm handsome? You sure, darlin'? You’re gettin' mighty flustered

"Hard not to when you're always going first," you sneer into your glass, taking another sip and feeling your cheeks heat.

"Wait, so that's it?" Joel laughs. "That's your reason for bein' so prickly t'mer? 'Cuz I didn't know why you were assigned to me and because I tried to help you with the way you held your gun?"

"And the riding, thing," you comment lamely. It all sounds pretty pathetic out loud. Is that really why you've been so mean to him all this time? Because of a misunderstanding?

"That's why you hate me?" Joel chuckles as if reading your mind.

"I don't hate you," you mumble. "You just... Get under ... my... skin."

You feel like you want to talk more, but your third glass is drained and your eyelids feel heavy.

"I think...I..."

You feel Joel take the glass from your hand. He keeps you slightly tilted, your head rolling back drowsy against the pillows. You feel his whiskey tinged breath fan across your cheeks.

"How's the pain?"

"S'okay," you slur. "But I know it's gonna hurt real bad tomorrow."

Joel goes to rearrange your pillow slightly so that your head is better positioned on it. His hand hovers beside your face as he does this and you tilt to face it.

"Thanks for the whiskey, Miller."

Unthinking you nuzzle your cheek against his arm before slipping into a drowsy slumber.

Joel pulls back and sits on the chair, watching your placid face, your chest rising up and down under the sheets. You look at peace and he feels a rush of affection go through him at the sight.

But you're in pain. A whole lot of it and he wants to fix that. Even if you don't want him like he finds himself wanting you. He needs you to be okay. Wants you back to your normal self.

What would have happened if there had never been that misunderstanding that day? What if patrols had gone on casually, the two of you amiable?

Would he have asked you for a drink? Would you be in bed together right now? Would his mouth be between your thighs, your fingers gripping his hair? Or would he have you under him, arms held by him above your head moaning his name - his real name, not Miller - as you gazed up at him?

The thought sends a shiver directly up his spine.

He stands; pulling your sheets up, making sure you look comfortable and settled before he leaves your home.

He thinks about your conversation the entire walk back to his place. He thinks about how things could have gone differently.

If only you'd both made better first impressions.

If only that's how it had gone.

If only.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #dad joel miller #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou

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4ngel-inc · 2 months

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࿔*:･ OBEY ME — how they kiss you ࿐

summary / tags — how passionate they are when they kiss you ᰔ fluff, suggestive, some teasing / dirty talk. eeeee i'm back on my obey me kick !! i forgot how gorgeous lucifer is :'))

♱ LUCIFER — 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

lucifer is a romantic, his heart is full of passion but he rarely has the time or privacy to express it to you—when he finally gets you alone, all to himself, he still treats you with such love and patience. he never rushes, he feels you deserve the utmost respect and tenderness. he slips his hands around your waist slowly, making sure you're comfortable with his affection even after giving it to you so many times. "how was your day, a little stressful, i'm sure?" you've been studying hard for your exams at RAD, and he's been missing you with how much he's been studying and organizing recent events as well. you nod, pouting a little, and he can't stop the passion pouring out of his heart for you. lucifer is a very private person, and he's good at suppressing his feelings when in a professional setting—however, as soon as he gazes into your eyes, no one around to interrupt or distract him, he remembers why he fell for you so hard. his hands are on your face in an instant, and his tongue slips into your mouth so dominantly, yet so tenderly, his tongue caressing yours in an intimate, slow kiss that makes your knees week. he always gazes into your eyes after pulling away, tucking your hair behind your ear, "i've been neglecting you lately, dear, let me make it up to you."

♱ MAMMON — 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

mammon always has a lot going on, he's always drafting up some get rich quick scheme or the like, and he's very social. he likes attention, and though he prefers to get it from you, he also likes to hang out with "friends," his definition of which is pretty much anyone who will compliment him or laugh at his cheesy jokes. overall, he just always likes to be doing something, but he does make time to give you quick kisses throughout the day, though he leaves you wanting more every time. he's always running around from sun up to sun down, but when he does finally get you alone, he's very clingy. he realizes how much he missed you all day when his lips are finally on yours in a way that isn't rushed, and his mind is calm as his hands trace over your skin, running up your chest before gripping your jaw and kissing you deeply. "didn't realize how much i miss ya today, had too much goin' on." you laugh, "that's alright, babe, but i'm gonna need a few more kisses to make up for it." he smirks, "oh, i'll give ya a lot more than that, honey pie, you've finally got the mammon all to yourself, what are ya gonna do about it?" he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he presses your back into the bed, kissing you deeper this time.

♱ SATAN — 𝓼𝓱𝔂 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

satan isn't one to indulge in PDA, not because he doesn't love you, but because he simply wants to keep affectionate moments like that just between the two of you. like lucifer, he's a very private person, though he doesn't mind the occasional kiss in public—it's shy though, very quick and chaste as he glances around to make sure no one's looking before giving you an innocent peck on the lips. "is that enough for now, dear?" it's never enough, honestly, you'd spend forever kissing him if he'd let you. "mmm, i guess. i'll see you later, then?" he sends you off with a hug as he returns to his meeting or whatever he's doing that day, but you always miss him the second he's gone. the moment you both return home at the end of the day is always the best of times, his kisses finally become deeper and more lustful, "you didn't get into any trouble while i was gone, huh? didn't kiss anyone else? i know i left you hanging earlier, but. . ." you whine as he places soft kisses down your neck, "i'm here now, you still want me, don't you?" though he's only teasing, he knows you'd never kiss anyone else, he just loves to hear you say it. "i'm only yours, you know that," you pout, "you don't kiss me enough, though." "it's just between you and i, honey, i want to keep it that way. i'll show you how much you mean to me now, how's that sound?"

♱ DIAVOLO — 𝓭𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

diavolo, as you can guess, is quite dominant. he likes to be in control of everything, though, when he's alone with you, he's so sweet and soft you almost feel like you're in a dream. he has two sides, and though you try not to bother him when he's working or in professional settings, sometimes, you just can't help it—he isn't unfamiliar with you walking into his office and asking for a kiss, though you're shy about it, you're never sure if he's in the mood—however, he always surprises you, and beckons you forward to him, excusing them if anyone is in the office with him. "come here, i only have a few minutes, i hope that's alright." you always expect a chaste kiss, but instead, you receive something deep and passionate. he grabs the back of your hair and crushes your lips to his, cupping your jaw and pressing his tongue against yours. his hands like to explore your hips and waist when he kisses you, gripping your skin harshly, almost in an attempt to let you know you're his, and only his. "that was quite pleasant, i expect we can continue this at home? i have work to do, i'm sorry, love." you smile nonetheless, though your eyes are still closed, expecting more kisses, "just a few more? i want something to think about later when i'm home alone." he smirks, "i like the sound of that."

♱ BEELZEBUB — 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓻𝔂 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

beelzebub is quite gluttonous in all things, and that includes you. if he had to choose between food and you, he hates to admit it, but he'd choose you, you taste that good. he loves everything about kissing you—how soft your lips feel, how your eyes flutter closed when his tongue glides against yours, the cutest little groan rumbling in your throat. things always start slowly, but quickly escalate to something more primal and hungry. "more- i need more," no amount of kisses could ever satiate him, and he doesn't care to pull away until you make him. "beel, i'm right here, don't worry." "no, i need to feel you, i want more, you taste so good." you've learned that, when kissing beel, things almost always turn into a full-blown makeout session, so you're sure to clear your schedule before anything intimate happens between you two. even after an hour or so of kissing you, he still wants more—and you find yourself having to pull away, lips swollen and eyes glossy from how much you want him. beel is big on kissing, and foreplay in general, but sometimes you have to rush him a little. "honey, is this going anywhere? i'm getting a little. . . antsy." he smiles, "just a few more kisses, then i'll give you what you want, baby. let me enjoy this treat a little while longer."

#— love notes: [obey me] ୧ ‧₊#obey me x reader #obey me x you #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #beelzebub x reader #diavolo x reader #satan x reader #obey me x mc

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hua-fei-hua · 2 years

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Hey hey just wanted to let u know. Cause I saw ur post and figured u should get a reminder. Your writing is genuinely wonderful and funny. You've made at least one person very happy with ur fics! And I really appreciate you putting them out there for the world to see!

aww thank you!! this is genuinely such a touching and heartwarming ask to receive, it's like trying to stare at the sun hahaha

#Anonymous #asks #i meant to reply to this as soon as i got it but then a string of things happened and now it is hours later hahaha #anyway my ao3 inbox is pretty quiet these days bc a) not publishing often and b) recent works all anonymous #(so i assume you came here from my j/jk work obligatory token apologies for gnshn brainrot)#and i think as a result i've gotten a lot better at separating my writing quality or w/e from numbers n stats #n i also read a lot more fic than i did a few years ago so i see many more samples of excellent fic writing #and obvs as i've gotten older my quality cutoff standards for fic i'm willing to read has gone up so mostly i read recs #it's pretty easy to forget how good my writing is compared to average when i fail to even think of the chaff #when other fics i like in that same pairing/trope/category come to mind hahaha #thinking of applying to a zine this summer... i usually chicken out of applications bc. well before my writing didn't get much attn #so it was like 'oh i'm not a big name fan i don't stand a chance' but then jjk was kind of an ego boost #so a few months ago i mentioned always wanting to be in a zine but never applying bc i didn't think my writing was 'zine quality'#to a reader friend who then proceeded to hype me up n be like 'bro it's beeeeen zine quality' and ahaha that was good thanks kango #very proud to be able to say i'm very in love with a lot of my own writing these days!!! all the love n deliberation put into each word #when i was fourteen n first publishing fic i remember thinking 'as long as one person is reading i'll keep writing'#how nice it is to sit atop the mountain peak of your own making! the view you so admired as a child just as fresh and beautiful #as you dreamed it would be all those years ago~

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noahsresources · 1 year

Text

more cringy dirty & flirty pick-up lines sentence starters

this is extremely self-indulgent, don't mind me lmfao. feel free to use these for whatever you want and change any details that need to be.

❝ you're so hot, my zipper is falling for you. ❞ ❝ i love my bed, but i'd rather be in yours. ❞ ❝ nice outfit. it'd look even better if it were on my bedroom floor. ❞ ❝ roses are red, violets are fine. you be the six, and i'll be the nine. ❞ ❝ do you have any room for an extra tongue in your mouth? ❞ ❝ if you're feeling down, i can feel you up. ❞ ❝ my ideal body weight is yours on mine. ❞ ❝ your belt looks really tight. can i loosen it for you? ❞ ❝ there are 206 bones in your body. think you can handle another one? ❞ ❝ let's play carpenter so i can nail you. ❞ ❝ i'd tell you a joke about my dick, but ... it's too long. ❞ ❝ hey, i might be wasted, but the condom in my pocket doesn't have to be. ❞ ❝ i may not go down in history, but i'll go down on you. ❞ ❝ you must be a chicken farmer because you know exactly how to raise my cock. ❞ ❝ sorry, what's your name again? i want to get it right when i shout it later. ❞ ❝ you must be an elevator because i want to go up and down on you all day. ❞ ❝ i'd love to kiss those beautiful, luscious lips. and the ones on your face. ❞ ❝ if you were a toe, i'd bang you on every wall, table, and chair in this bar. ❞ ❝ sit on my lap, and let's talk about the first thing that pops up. ❞ ❝ do you work for UPS? 'cause you've got a fantastic package. ❞ ❝ want to play a game? i'll be the squirrel, you be the tree, and i'll bust a nut in your hole. ❞ ❝ your legs are like an oreo cookie. i wanna split them and eat all the good stuff in the middle. ❞ ❝ i bet i can touch your belly button ... from the inside. ❞ ❝ how do you feel about doing some math in the bedroom? all you need to do is add me, subtract your clothes, divide your legs, and we can multiply. ❞ ❝ remember my name, because you'll be screaming it later. ❞ ❝ my doctor told me i have a vitamin d deficiency. wanna go back to my place and save me? ❞ ❝ if i flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head? ❞ ❝ my dick's been feeling a little dead lately. wanna give it some mouth-to-mouth? ❞ ❝ i'm no weather man, but you can expect more than a few inches tonight. ❞ ❝ is your name medusa? because the moment you look at me, i get rock hard. ❞ ❝ can you tell me what time your legs open, please? ❞ ❝ are you a rubix cube? because the more i play with you the harder you get. ❞ ❝ you look too god for a pickup line, so let's cut to the chase — wanna fuck? ❞

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navybrat817 · 10 months

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Meet the Parents

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: Bucky wants to make a good impression when he meets your parents face-to-face and a bit of awkwardness ensues. Word Count: Over 2.9k Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, second-hand embarrassment and cringe, loving and oversharing parent, slight feels (it’s me, okay), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Stud meets your parents in person! Oh, boy. ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was excited to finally meet your parents. You didn't get to go home often since your family lived far away, so the short trip was special for you. It was a big deal for him, too. Though he saw them on video chats here and there, this was the real thing. A chance to show that he was serious about your future together.

I have to make a good impression.

He also wanted to get a glimpse of how his hopefully future in-laws acted around you and to see how love looked in your family. You warned him that they might tell an embarrassing story or show him awkward photos and he was more than looking forward to it. Those very things shaped you into the woman he fell in love with.

“You nervous?” you asked as he helped you out of the car. “You didn’t say much on the drive here.”

Of course, you’d pick up on that. “Nope,” he said, which wasn't a total lie.

“Careful before your pants catch on fire,” you teased, running a hand along his cheek. “They love you. They have from the start. Remember when we had our first chat?”

“I remember,” he gently smiled.

Your mom and dad were a little concerned in the beginning when you said you were moving in with him. He didn't blame them. If it was his daughter moving in with a guy she didn't know, he would've had a lot of questions. Your parents felt better after he suggested having a video chat. They trusted your judgment and they trusted him not to hurt their daughter.

I'll never break that trust.

“And please remember that I love you, Stud.”

Bucky turned his face so he could press his lips against your palm, thankful that you always knew what to say to soothe him. “I love you, too, Smartie.”

“There they are!” your mom called from the doorway, your dad right behind her.

Bucky straightened up and took a step back when your mom went to you, both of you shrieking with happiness. A smile spread across his face and he could tell that you got some of your friendliness and mannerisms from her. Which is why it didn't surprise him when he received a crushing hug from her a moment later.

“Welcome, James,” your mom smiled. Both of your parents called him by his first name and he didn’t mind. “It’s so nice to see you.”

"It's nice to see you, too,” he said, giving you a thankful glance when you grabbed the flowers and bottle of wine from the car. You told him they were her favorite and he refused to show up empty handed. "These are for you.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” she said, taking them with a kind smile as she stepped back to get a better look at him. “My goodness, you're even bigger in person.”

“And you wondered why I called him ‘Stud’,” you teased, sliding your arm around his waist.

Bucky puffed his chest out a bit when he caught the adoration in your gaze. He was certain his eyes reflected the same when he looked your way. While he did want your parents to like him, it was your opinion that he cared about.

“And it’s no wonder our daughter can't keep her hands off you, James,” your dad said when he joined you, clapping Bucky on his shoulder with a chuckle and snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Dad. Could you not?” you calmly asked.

“What? I half expected to see you with a baby bump when you got out of the car.”

Bucky went rigid with an awkward smile, unsure of how to respond to your dad’s comment. On the one hand, he was right. Neither of you could keep your hands off each other. Hell, you flatout told your parents the two of you were sharing a room if they expected you to stay at their house. But making a family with you? He wanted to more than anything, but what did your parents think?

Is he going to kill me if I get you pregnant one day?

“Please, stop. I love you, but stop. We just got here,” you said, giving your mom a pointed look when Bucky stayed silent. Instinctively, he pulled you closer. You didn’t get flustered easily, but he knew your little tells.

“Don't embarrass her. We talked about this,” your mom hissed before she smiled again, your dad holding his hands up in surrender. “I wish we could’ve had a chance to meet Alpine in person.”

You sighed, grateful for the switch in topic. “Me, too, but maybe we can bring her next time. I’m sure Steve will spoil her rotten until we get back.”

Both of you missed the little ball of fur, but his friend was quick to send him photos.

“Well, we’re glad you could make it and perfect timing since we just finished setting the table. I know you two are probably tired from the trip, but how about resting after you eat?”

“That sounds great,” Bucky said, turning to get the bags from the car.

“Why don’t I get those?” your dad offered. “You two go in and get settled.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you smiled as you pulled Bucky along. “I’m sorry about the pregnancy comment. Hopefully that’s the end of it.”

“It’s okay. It doesn't bother me,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your temple. He knew the topic itself didn't bother you either, but you probably didn't want your dad to bring it up before you walked into the house. "You okay?"

“I guess I'm a little more nervous than I thought. I haven’t really brought a lot of guys home, so this is kind of a big deal,” you explained. He understood how nerve wracking it could be.

“How many guys have you brought back here?” he half teased, asking to both make you smile and to see if he had anyone he had to measure up to.

No, don’t think like that.

“The number doesn't matter because they weren’t special. They also weren’t and aren’t you.”

Good answer.

“Now let’s go eat. Mom will be sad if we don't,” you said.

“I wouldn't want to upset either of the ladies of the house,” he said, kissing your temple again. "Dinner will be great.”

Right?

Bucky couldn't recall the last time he was in such a cozy place. The welcoming ambience made him want to curl up with a book and relax. It was no wonder you carried that warmth over to the apartment. You even allowed your dad to brag about your accomplishments that lined the hallway wall with your photos over the years.

Should be proud of yourself, doll.

Just like your friendly and thoughtful personality, Bucky could see you got your love of cooking from your mom. She prepared a feast for the two of you in the dining room, a mix of both of your favorite things, and added the flowers he brought to the middle of the table. It meant a lot that she took the time to make something he would enjoy. And seeing you chatting with your parents over a nice meal, he could picture the same with the two of you in your own home.

With a large kitchen to slow dance in.

“Mom, I don’t think I can eat another bite,” you teased when she tried to give you another dish.

“Then we’ll have plenty of leftovers,” she teased back, offering it to Bucky instead. “If memory serves me, I believe you mentioned the two of you like to cook together.”

“We do,” he confirmed, graciously helping himself to more. “We switch off some nights if she’s studying or I’m at the shop late, but it’s something I look forward to.”

You smiled tenderly as you reached for his hand across the table. “I do, too.”

He gently squeezed it and kept hold of it while he ate. You were noticeably more relaxed and he was enjoying himself. He was glad things were going well.

Your dad gestured to him after a moment. “James, I meant to tell you when you arrived that you look very nice.”

“Oh, thank you,” he said, glancing at himself. He opted for a nice button up shirt. Nothing too fancy or too casual and it had your seal of approval.

"You always look handsome,” you smiled.

“But he looks much more comfortable than that turtleneck he wore on our last video chat,” he added.

Bucky almost dropped his fork when you dug your nails into his skin. The two of you had a heated makeout session before the last call and you left a noticeable hickey on his neck. The only thing he could think of to do at the time was wear a turtleneck, but he couldn't stop messing with the collar. It was a nice reminder of why he hardly wore them.

“It was a little itchy,” Bucky said.

Your dad hummed and took another bite. “You know, I remember when I was your age the only time I'd wear a shirt like that is if my wife got a little ‘over excited’ if you know what I mean.”

The fork fell to the plate, the sound echoing in the room.

Way to play it cool.

"Why?” you and your mom asked at the same time.

“Did you give James a hickey?” your dad replied as you sank a little into your seat. "You did."

Your mom shot him a glare. “What did I say about embarrassing your daughter?”

“What? It was just a question,” he said, pointing at you with his fork. “I had to wear a turtleneck in the middle of the summer the first time I met your grandparents. Your mother was quite the-”

“I don’t want to hear this!” you cut your dad off, looking to Bucky for help.

Say something.

“So, like mother like daughter,” Bucky blurted out, that awkward smile spreading across his face again when you gawked at him. Why did he say that? “Not that! I mean, well, you did say she couldn’t keep her hands off me. She's extremely passionate.”

“This is my nightmare,” you muttered.

This is also my nightmare.

“What I mean is they're both so lovely and have big hearts, which means they love big and sometimes that love translates to…” he continued, coughing into his hand when you stepped on his foot. He used to be charming at one point in his life. What the hell was happening? “But not that I would know what you did or didn’t do while you were dating. That’s none of my business.”

Stop talking.

"Oh, it’s not just dating, James,” your dad said as he took another bite, seemingly amused by the conversation. “The trick to keeping her happy is to keep the romance alive. Like the night my wife and I made our lovely daughter. It was so beautiful.”

“Stop!” you begged, clutching his hand even harder than before. He tried to run his thumb along your palm to soothe you, but you weren't having it. “Forever stop that story, please.”

Your dad looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh before your mom stepped in. “Go check on dessert,” she ordered.

“But I was going to tell them about-”

“Dad!” you almost shouted, taking a deep breath when it got quiet. “This is our first dinner together with the four of us and I don't want it to be the last. So, can you not scare my boyfriend off? Please?” you asked in a softer tone, your voice cracking on the last word.

Please, don’t cry.

Bucky leaned forward in his chair, sensing that you were dangerously close to tears. “Hey. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

I’m right by your side.

To your dad’s credit, he immediately got up from the table and kissed the top of your head when he realized this wasn't funny to you. It didn’t matter how much you had grown, you were still his baby. “I’m sorry I went a little overboard. You forgive me?”

You still looked about a half second away from bursting into tears, but you gave your dad a small smile. “Forgiven,” you mumbled.

"Now go get dessert ready, dear," your mom said, sighing as he left the room. “James, I'm so sorry if my husband made you uncomfortable. If it's any consolation, he’s comfortable talking to you because he likes you.”

Bucky nodded slightly. That was a good thing. “That’s nice to know, Mrs.-”

“Oh, please. You don’t have to use ‘Mrs.’ with me. There’s no need to be formal,” she assured him.

“Well, thank you all the same for your hospitality.”

“Of course.” Her eyes flickered to you with a grin. “Anything for the person who my daughter is so passionate about.”

“Mom!” You let out an exasperated laugh. At least you weren't crying. “I thought you were on my side.”

“Oh, I am,” she winked. “And don't worry. I won't ask about my future grandchildren today.”

So, I am allowed to get you pregnant if we decide to go that route.

“BOTH of you are ganging up on me. This is why I never brought guys home,” you said, facing him with a shaky laugh. “Will you just dump me now and get it over with? I'll just hide in my room until I can find a new place.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped, having to grip the table with one hand and hold himself back from jumping across the table to snuggle you close. “What? No, I'm not dumping you.”

"You're not?”

"Of course not. I think it's an unwritten rule that everyone gets one mortifying moment involving a significant other," he said.

I'm counting on it with Rebecca.

"He's right," your mom smiled.

"And me dump you? Shouldn’t you dump me after that…” he tried to find the right word. “Rant about how ‘lovely’ you are?”

“I’m never dumping you, Stud. You’re stuck with me,” you said. Just like you were stuck with him. “And you really think I'm lovely and have a big heart?”

“Of course, I do, Smartie,” he smiled. He'd compliment you for the rest of the evening if it made you feel more at ease.

Your mom watched the two of you with a loving smile before she stood. “Sweetie, why don’t we kick your dad out of the kitchen and get dessert ready ourselves?”

“Sure, mom,” you smiled, reluctantly letting go of Bucky’s hand. Before your mom led you out of the room, you went around to give him a kiss. "I demand cuddles after dessert, smooth talker.”

Thank God I'm usually smoother than that.

"All the cuddles you want,” he said, loosening the top button on his shirt once he was left alone. That was not how he expected dinner to go. In hindsight, it could’ve been worse. At least your dad didn't stab him.

Speak of the devil.

“Surprised those two didn’t kick me out of the house entirely,” your dad joked as he went back into the dining room and took a seat. “I really am sorry, James. I hope my sense of humor didn’t offend you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It takes a lot to offend me,” Bucky said.

“I know how much my daughter was looking forward to this. We’ve missed her here,” he said, a wistful look crossing his face. It was evident how much your mom and dad both loved you. The house was brighter because you were in it. "And, believe it or not, I was a little nervous to see the man who stole her heart."

“I was nervous to meet you, too," he admitted. "I really care about your daughter.”

“She cares about you, too. I've never seen her so happy.”

That comment gave Bucky the confidence to speak, glancing at the doorway to make sure you weren’t coming back just yet. “I know you and your wife just met me in person today, but your daughter is the best thing to ever happen to me and I want to ask you if-”

“Let me stop you right there.”

Bucky’s mouth shut as he deflated. Of course, it was likely too soon in your dad’s eyes to have that serious of a conversation. It wasn’t too soon for him though. He loved you.

“If you're asking for our blessing, you don't need it. You already have it,” your dad said as he held his breath. “Because if you really care about my daughter the way we think you do, you know she'll follow her heart since it belongs to you. As long as she's cared for and happy, we're happy because that's all we want for her. That’s all we’ve ever wanted for her.”

The weight Bucky felt in his chest lightened with each word. “That’s all I want for her, too. And I will spend the rest of my life making her happy."

Your dad nodded, a bit of shine in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You take care of my little girl, you hear me? Love her the way she deserves?” he asked.

“You have my word,” Bucky promised.

With his mother’s ring and your parents' blessing, he was ready to take the next step and hoped that you were ready to walk along that path beside him.

So, when do we think he'll put a ring on it? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #stud and smartie #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #roommate au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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hgfictionwriter · 6 days

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Maybe This Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: UCLA was a long time ago. Jessie couldn't bring herself to make a move back then and missed her chance. But now that you're back in her life, maybe things can be different.

Warning: None

A/N: A bit more fluff for y'all! And sorry for flooding the Jessie tags. I’ve got a bunch of fics just sitting around!

"Jessie?"

Jessie turned and couldn't believe her eyes. Y/N. Y/N L/N. The girl she'd pined over at UCLA; who her friends had relentlessly made fun of her for liking and never pursuing; the girl who still showed up in idle daydreams from time to time, even all these years later.

"I heard you were playing in town now. Oh my gosh - it's been so long. I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."

Here you were standing in front of her. Smiling at her. Instead of being the...relatively...confident person Jessie now was - she was national team captain, a gold medal athlete, for goodness sake - she wasn't a young girl anymore hiding behind textbooks and her friends, instead though, she felt her cheeks burn hot and her words got caught in her throat. She stood there staring speechless at you.

"Don't tell me you don't recognize me," you said, a hint of apprehension beginning to cast over you.

Finally, Jessie began to react. She closed her eyes briefly in hopes of resetting, shaking her head and allowing herself to smile.

"Of course I do," she finally managed, only stammering slightly. "I mean, I recognize you. Of course."

"Okay." You let out a small laugh of relief. "For a second I thought worldwide athletic stardom made you forget your favourite lab partner."

"Of course not," Jessie readily assured you. "I'd never forget you."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She clenched her jaw as she reprimanded herself internally for imploding so quickly and after so much time. She cut herself some slack when you smiled again at her.

"That's comforting to hear. Well, I mean, I know you're just leaving," you gestured to the door of the coffee shop, "but, um, I don't know." You laughed nervously before settling on what to say. You offered her a resolute nod. "It was nice to see you again."

Jessie's mind whirled with ideas and options. Anything coming out of her mouth now was mere instinct.

"Nice to see you too. Um, I don't know, maybe we could chat sometime? Are you in Portland too?"

"Yeah, I work at a logistics firm in town." You cracked a smirk. "Not nearly as glamorous as being a national icon, but you know, I do my part."

Jessie chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair.

"If you call 4 am wake-up calls, jet lag, and bruises to high heaven glamourous, then sure, I guess it is."

"Sounds not too unfamiliar from your UCLA days," you teased. "I still remember when you showed up to class with a black eye. And I see you've healed fine from your recent one."

Jessie blushed. So you watched her games? And you remembered moments from uni.

You'd been friends in university, but that's all it ever was. Her friends had goaded her again and again to ask you out, but Jessie could never work up the courage. She'd doubted herself too much. And then before she knew it she'd lost her chance. You dated other girls and that was the end of it. She stepped back and time ticked on.

You remained close friends throughout uni, sharing deep conversations, hopes and fears, silly moments, too. There were moments where Jessie felt hope starting to blossom in her chest - that maybe you had feelings for her, but she'd stamp it out. She’d just be setting herself up for disappointment.

After you both graduated, that was it. She'd gone off to London and you fell out of touch. It was for the best really. Well, maybe.

"Anyway," you started again, drawing Jessie back from her thoughts. "Sure, I'd love to catch up. I'd say I'll message you on Instagram, but I know your social media is a black hole. I can give you my number if you like."

Jessie gave you a tight-lipped smile as she scratched the back of her head and let her gaze fall to the bulletin of flyers instead.

"Yeah, I'm not much for social media."

"I know," you chuckled. "You never were."

Jessie cleared her throat and looked back to you. "And sure, what's your number?"

She almost missed you telling her because her mind drifted back to class when you reached over and scribbled your number on the top corner of her paper and told her to text you about the reading. Jessie’s words had died in her throat and she had to settle for merely offering you a delayed nod as you gathered up your books and left. She’d felt light on her feet, nearly dizzy even, all day. Her hands had shaken when she texted you and her palms were clammy as she awaited your response.

That was a lifetime ago. But now here you were, and number newly confirmed. Jessie tucked her phone away in her pocket.

"Okay, I'll let you go," you told her. "And truly, if you aren't up to a chat of any kind - no pressure. You probably have so many people vying for your time. I won't be offended." You said with true earnest. "In case I don't see you again, I just want to say I'm really proud of you for everything you've achieved. And I'd say I'm impressed, but A) that goes without saying, and B) I always knew you were going to do great things. I told you time and time again. Anyway, it was so good to see you. Take care."

Before Jessie could respond, you'd turned and disappeared to the other side of the shop and into the line. She forced herself to turn and leave.

The door had barely closed behind her when she opened her phone and pulled up her messages with Teagan.

"You will NEVER guess who I just ran into."

-----

"Hi Y/N. It's Jessie. UCLA."

"Lol the one and only. How are you?"

"Well forgive me for not assuming that you would know who a random 'Jessie' is lol. I'm doing well, thanks. How are you?"

"You were always very humble. It was always very endearing, so I'm glad to see you haven't lost that. I'm doing well. Working late. Some of my vendors are shitting the bed, so I'm scrambling to find alternatives."

"Seriously? That sounds brutal. I'm sorry to hear that. Well, if it makes you feel better, the team had to run extra drills today because of how bad our last game was."

"It's the start of the season - lots of new players. Chemistry takes time. You guys will find your groove soon. I'm positive. How is Portland treating you, by the way? I'd love to hear more about your time in London too at some point."

"Well, if you still want to grab coffee, I can tell you all about it. And I want to hear about you too. Did you ever make it to the Ghibli museum?"

"Oh my gosh lolol. You remember that. And yes! I did. And it was amazing. And coffee would be amazing, too :)"

Jessie belatedly realized that she was smiling as you texted back and forth. It was an odd feeling - it was strange to be talking with you again, yet entirely natural.

To her surprise, you ended up texting every day until you met up Sunday afternoon. She'd mentioned to Teagan that you two had this scheduled and soon Jessie was hit with an onslaught of messages from all her Bruins mates stepping right back into form and teasing her.

On a scale from 1-10, how red did you blush? And why was it 20.

Can I finally tell her you mumbled her name in your sleep? Several times?

Please tell me you immediately pulled out a vision board with her face all over it.

LOL the universe said, “Think you’ve suffered enough pining for this girl? Think you’re over her? Guess again!”

She still hot? Send pics.

Jessie sat in her car down the street from the coffee shop and essentially gave herself a stern, mental talking to about your get together. She was not who she was 5 years ago, and neither were you. She didn't need to be so nervous. There were no stakes at all, she could just relax, be in the moment, and reconnect with an old friend.

When she stepped into the coffee shop, her pulse picked up just so when she saw you seated at a table, but thankfully by the time she sat she'd composed herself again.

"The good news is, the rain is nothing new to me after being in London," she joked as she swept some rain off her baseball cap.

You looked up from your phone and a large smile crossed your face.

"Yeah, I hear you. And what's going on - how did we both go from sunny LA to rain central?"

Not entirely surprising, conversation flowed easily between you two. And it wasn't all reminiscing and nostalgia, it was easy to talk about current things as well. Pretty soon, you were both at the ends of your second cups of coffee and yet neither of you made a move to leave.

"So, um, you've been in Portland for a while now," the ease Jessie had felt faltered some as she broached a topic she'd been highly curious about, "did [y/gf] come with you?"

You screwed up your face and laughed.

"No," you answered easily. "We broke up like a couple of months after convocation. Let's be real - that was never going to last."

"Oh," Jessie replied, surprise showing on her face at how readily you dismissed the notion. "I had no idea. I thought you two were solid."

"Well," you drained the last bit of your drink, "I guess I wasn't entirely forthcoming then. Sure, things were okay. But, I was lying to myself if I thought that was going to be a 'forever' kind of relationship." Jessie's look of surprise lingered and you rolled your eyes, leaning in. "Jessie. She'd get distracted every time she walked by a mirror. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Come on, don't tell me you didn't notice. Her full on checking herself out anytime she caught her reflection?"

Jessie sat back and gave you a brief look of disbelief, shaking her head. "I tried not to notice."

"Smart," you retorted good naturedly. "She was nice, and we had fun, but beyond our values not exactly aligning, an equal partnership it was not."

"Well, okay, she's out of the picture. You must be with someone new, then," Jessie went on. She ignored the twinge in her chest when you shook your head 'no'. Just as quickly, she scolded herself. Why would it matter? She was getting way ahead of herself here. She supposed that old habits - and evidently dormant feelings - died hard.

"No. I mean, I dated a couple of girls since I've been here, but nothing's really stuck." You looked up from your drink to Jessie. "Now, superstar, you have to tell me your update."

Jessie mouth contracted into a tight smile and she felt her cheeks begin to burn under the scrutiny.

"That's confidential," she quipped.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and leaned forward. "That is so not fair." Jessie remained smugly silent and merely shrugged. You let out an exasperated sigh and slouched back in your chair. "Fine," you relented not wanting to push too much. "You were always tight-lipped in university, too. You could've had anyone and you - as far as I know," you said pointedly, "didn't date anyone."

"Oh come on." Jessie now rolled her eyes. "I was so shy and quiet. Even if I'd liked someone I would've never gotten up the courage to ask them out." She felt a buzzing in her head as she watched your reaction. You smiled sweetly.

"You were shy and quiet, yes. But you opened up once you were comfortable. I mean, look at us, look at you with your teammates. And you were so smart, incredibly sweet, and pretty, and you had that dry sense of humour. And, hello, captain of the football team!"

"Co-captain," Jessie interjected pointedly. You hung your head briefly with a laugh.

"I repeat - you could've had anyone."

Jessie subconsciously fidgeted with her hat and planted her feet further apart as she shifted down in her chair. "Well, didn't seem that way at the time."

"Wait - so who did you like?" You probed.

"No one," Jessie retorted, her features scrunching up as she played off the question dismissively. "I barely had time to breathe. There was no way I could date someone."

"You are so cagey sometimes," you said lightly, not being able to resist ribbing her once more. "Fine, so, what about now? Are you seeing someone?"

Jessie's composure was long gone and her face burned hot as your interrogation got her flustered. She took a subtle breath and worked to calm herself.

"No, no one's caught my eye just yet," she relayed.

You studied Jessie, discerning whether to drop the topic or not. You eventually relented as you crossed your arms and reclined in your chair.

"Well, I imagine that's not easy. There's a lot to live up to. And you're surrounded by impressive people every day, so the bar's gotta be high. Again, you can have your pick."

You grabbed your phone and looked it over quickly.

"I need to get going. I have a few errands to run still before the weekend's over," you said, a hint of regret in your voice before you offered a smile. "I had a great time though. It was so good to catch up with you."

Jessie removed her hat, running her fingers through her hair briefly before pulling the cap back down on her head.

"Yeah, I had a great time, too."

For the first time this conversation, a small lull formed and neither of you jumped to bridge it. Eventually, Jessie cleared her throat.

"Maybe we could get together again. Coffee. A drink. Whatever, really."

A mild look of surprise crossed your face, puzzling Jessie.

"Sure, I'd like that," you told her warmly as you shrugged on your jacket.

"Okay." Jessie gave you a small smile as she, too, rose from the table. "Will you be at the game next weekend?"

"I hadn't planned on it, but I could be." You smirked.

"No pressure," Jessie said as she felt that old nervousness begin to bubble up. "I could get you tickets if you ever want to go. That's all."

You smiled, looking at her in appreciation. "I'll have to take you up on that."

Jessie chuckled, but gave you a pointed look. "Honestly, you don't have to. I know you weren't a big soccer fan even in university."

"But," you started, drawing the word out and returning her pointed look, "I started going to games after becoming friends with a certain someone. I just haven't had a reason to go to a Thorns games yet."

Jessie resisted her impending blush and instead crossed her arms loosely in front of her, shifting her weight to one leg. "Okay, just let me know," Jessie said. She gave you a small nod. "And I promise these games are even better than Bruins ones."

You cocked your head, a hint of a smile on your face as you lifted a finger to your lips and narrowed your eyes in mock contemplation.

"What are they calling you these days? Midfield Maestro?"

Somehow, Jessie didn't even feel the urge to blush. Instead, she gave you a cocky smirk.

"So you really have been following my career."

She nearly grinned at how your cheeks flushed pink and you broke eye contact. You only took a moment to compose yourself and look back to Jessie with a half smirk.

"Hard not to," you simply said.

Jessie relented, feeling like she'd teased you enough. For now. She smiled and spoke earnestly.

"Offer stands - if you wants tickets, just let me know. Regardless, let's get together soon."

"Deal," you told her, your blush slowly fading.

There was a brief moment of stillness and uncertainty before you stepped forward and pulled Jessie into a hug. It only took her a moment to relax into it, her arms wrapping around you. Even though your body felt different now - so was hers - it felt natural to hold you close again.

You stayed like that for several moments, surprise and tampered excitement filling Jessie when you tightened your embrace before letting go. She noted the renewed colour on your cheeks when you stepped back.

"Text me?" You asked.

Jessie nodded. "Of course."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt #woso #portland thorns #canwnt x reader

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 1 month

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maaan it'd be so EASY for chaggie to end up with an adopted cannibal kid after the battle with heaven, tho

with Vaggie's past (and that being a Thing she can Charlie can talk about now), her having her big WAIT THIS IS EVIL IM BEING EVIL moment over a cannibal child she couldn't bring herself to kill....

add to that Charlie, who is now the DIRECT reason quite a few cannibals are Extra Super Dead, thanks to her inspiring them into battle with her song-

"Have you ever felt like you're willing to die-"

very rousing, maybe less fun for her to remember after some of them DID die-

oh hush y'all eat ppl im sure dying isn't the most shocking outcome of a night out that you can imagine

Charlie legit pitched facing final death as a "chance to travel" and "see more of hell" and she did it with a jolly song and dance and GOOD ON HER for getting a fighting force to protect the dream of sinners someday being redeemed! ....but yeah. kinda heavy for her to remember later on, i'd think

and Cannibal Town residents are so tight knit with each other that it's a literal PLOT POINT Charlie has to face off against- no way they don't have families, no way there weren't families broken up by the battle at the Hazbin Hotel- at Charlie's hotel

No way Charlie wouldn't feel guilty about and responsible as FUCK for any little cannibal kid who ended up orphaned as a result....

ahem

(is that kid wearing like frisbee on their head?? whatever. it looks kinda like a halo don't it. kinda ironic. isn't it)

Rosie would even have to SUGGEST anything! She's got a good read on Charlie now and she's 100% on board with Alastor's plans to "guide" Charlie (cough manipulate and use cough cough)

and what would make a better leverage point than introducing a little cannibal kid for Charlie to worry and feel guilty over? an ORPHANED cannibal kid. Orphaned by the same fight Charlie led the cannibals into. Orphaned when the kid's parents DIED fighting for Charlie

(great way for Charlie to always keep Cannibal Town in mind anyway. Good way to make sure she's protective of it)

but oh the irony if Rosie didn't even MEAN for chaggie to end up with the kid!

if Rosie DIDN'T fully understand- just how much Charlie would want to give a loving family and childhood to someone, when she herself had one and is now dealing (trying to deal) with all that crumbling away as an adult-

ALSO THO. IF. Hypothetically. the orphan was the same kid Vaggie spared. Like how many sinner kids are there in hell. Not too many running around. If it was the same kid. if Vaggie saw that

....if the kid saw her- or, no, even better- if when she tried talking quietly with them, and when they heard her voice like that they looked up at her suddenly like

cannibal kid: "...Go."

Vaggie: (instantly standing up) "Right, sorry- I'll go get Charlie, or- would you rather Rosie-" (stops) (looks down)

Vaggie: "...?"

cannibal kid: (is holding onto the end of her hair ribbon)

cannibal kid: (whispering) "Run."

cannibal kid: (hopefully) "Now...?"

Vaggie: "...you, remember?"

cannibal kid: (nods)

Vaggie: (slowly sits back down)

Vaggie: "Yeah, hey. That was... that was a thing, wasn't it. It's, been a while. Three years... didn't think you'd recognize me."

cannibal kid: "Didn't. Look different."

Vaggie: "The long hair, missing eye and missing wings is a lot of change, huh?"

cannibal kid: (shrugs) "You're happy." (sniffles) "It's different."

Vaggie: ".....well, Charlie's the one who did all that. She's, pretty great at that stuff. And she'd like make things different for you too now. If you want."

cannibal kid: "........if I stay at the hotel... can I play with Razzle every day? Not, not just when princess Charlie brings him over?"

Vaggie: "Kinda looks like your stuck with him either way to me. Maybe check he's getting enough air, stuffed down into your coat front like that?"

cannibal kid: (unbuttoning an air hole for Razzle) "But he belongs at the hotel, where Dazzle's murmur- marble- um- murder dial-"

Vaggie: "Memorial..?"

cannibal kid: "Where Dazzle's memorial is."

Vaggie: "If you're okay leaving Cannibal Town, you can belong there too."

cannibal kid: "I'm okay leaving town."

cannibal kid: (beat)

cannibal kid: "It's boring."

Vaggie: "Yeah well, the hotel is definitely not gonna be boring."

cannibal kid: "Does it get blown up EVERY week, or just on special occasions?"

Vaggie: "It sure felt like every week but we're trying to cut back."

cannibal kid: "Dang."

please imagine tho, Charlie seeing this sad orphan kid who won't talk to anyone, maybe even "hasn't so much as had a nibble on anyone, the poor little biter" according to Rosie, since being orphaned-

and the next time Charlie visits she brings RAZZLE

and she introduce the two of them, then stands back and watches her childhood plushy turned demon win over this kid SO FAST, disappearing into their tiny but fierce little hugs, getting them to share a donut with him, showing them how to do a little song and dance routine (one him, Charlie, and Dazzle used to do) bringing a bit of normalcy back to a kid who's parents are dead because of her-

Charlie thinking to herself, that the least she can do, really, is give this kid as many of the best parts of HER own childhood as she can

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #rosie hazbin hotel #silly au #orphaned cannibal kid adoption shenanigans #i can give chaggie kids in so many silly ways that don't involve the normal one #but this one #could ALMOST work within canon???#XD

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florenceafternoon · 2 months

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Because I will never get tired of them, here are some more fic recs. These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is an extract from the summaries on ao3.

Never Quite Awake by @sunshinemarauder

“Endings are nothing unfamiliar to Lily Evans; she’s seen the ends of sisterhood, friendship, and innocence, all from miles away. But this is an end unlike any other. An end that was never supposed to happen.”

If to love someone once is to break their heart, to love them twice is to break yours.

Lily falls for James in her seventh year. But the couple are sent onto two diverging paths when a life-shattering altercation halts their burgeoning relationship. Five years later, she's a curse breaker and he is a soldier.

When they meet again, it feels like coming home.

All the angst that comes with a jily second chance romance that takes place during wartime. A fake dating subplot, cursebreaker!Lily, pining!James. What more could you want. France (country) - a relevant tag

Through The Rain by @bookeatingbean

James and Lily's first kiss, and the story behind it. There's some fluff, some character study, and some good old-fashioned angst.

If you're looking for a character study that shows how they grew up through their school years. This fic shows you that Lily was not a perfect person and James was a bully for the sake of it but he grew to understand that the world does not revolve around him and strives to do better. Or Lily is stubborn and James is the definition of a ride-or-die

It's been a long time by writtenbyfreckles (on ao3)

It's been ten years since Lily left Hogwarts. She's returned to England to work as a Healer on the "ward of the wacky", only to find home isn't as safe as she thought it was. An attack leaves her locked in a ward with her patients, a bunch of Death Eaters and an Auror she hasn't seen for a long time.

I need more cannon divergence Auror!James and Healer!Lily

The Guide To Becoming A Better Man For Lily Evans by @padfootswhiskers

prompt: I decided to walk outside shirtless (accidentally) but I forgot it's winter and why're you screaming at me like that? And oh gosh, you're very pretty.

lingering days, short-lived nights by letthebookbegin (on ao3)

The summer before seventh year, James is desperately trying to think of anything but Lily, who's burrowed her way into his mind and looks quite comfortable there.

The summer before seventh year, Lily is craving a distraction. Avoiding her sister, she picks an ice cream shop for shelter.

At the end of a long summer day, their paths cross - and the rest, as they say, is history.

Ties That Bind by @charmsandtealeaves

Lily Evans grew up with old wives tales about soul mates, but she'd never put much stock in the idea. Not until after she learned about the world of magic and the fact that soul bonds were a thing that actually existed. Which makes these strange new feelings and experiences that much more difficult to manage.

So I read this a while ago but stupidly forgot to bookmark it and then I spent nearly an hour trying to find it again. Needless to say, I ADORE this fic and you should all go read it. Like, right now. Then come back here to talk to me about it.

Lily Evans Doesn't Believe In I Love You's also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

“Did you hear Lily Evans doesn’t believe in I love you's?”

It wasn’t exactly a secret. But no one knew why, until she decided to share a bottle of fire whiskey in the astronomy tower with James Potter.

Same Lily, same

Meet Me At The River also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

A chance encounter with a misplaced owl leads to a correspondence between pen pals. Lily confides in her mysterious Flea and finds herself falling along the way.

I can't remember if I've recommended this one already, but even if I have I'll rec it again because I love it so much!!

Your Friend, James by @thelighthousestale

It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Just the ending of this one is everything. James and Sirius are never beating the codependent allegations

Castling by @missgryffin

When they were still very young, Remus Lupin’s dad married Lily Evans’ mum. It changes everything.

Lily and Remus are like the little brother who got bullied and then found friends except he invited them over for the first time and they all act weird because they're mildly terrified of his older sister. Friends to lovers jily is only rivaled by academic rivals jily.

Just the Two of Us by @arianatwycross

Head Students James and Lily face a perilous twist when a malicious potion surfaces in hate mail directed at Lily. Dumbledore orders a week-long quarantine in the Head Students' suite. With unspoken crushes lingering, the duo navigates close quarters, leading to unexpected revelations, lingering looks and forehead kisses.

silence and patience, pining in anticipation by @kay-elle-cee

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

DRESS IS A JILY SONG FOREVER AND ALWAYS

The Devil in the Cloak Room by @chiechie97

Getting your heart broken when you’re 17 seems to alter your brain chemistry more than you would think. Which is the precise reason why Lily has no intention of reconnecting with the friends she lost at the end of school.

And besides, she has no chance of knowing anyone at the masked Halloween party her friend drags her to. Especially not the guy in the devil mask. Right?

Usually I rec complete works but this one is so good I had to include it

Deception and other ways to find love by @annasghosts

“I’ll be your fake girlfriend, Potter.” And this is how Lily Evans embarks on the adventure of (fake) dating her former Hogwarts nemesis (and crush, but ssssh, it’s a secret). Will she be able to keep her cool? Will he?

Class of '78 by @emeralddoeadeer

Class of 1978 Five Year Reunion - July 29th, 1983

Now is the time to look upon our shared experience, our similarities must unite us rather than letting our differences divide us. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry invites the Graduating Class of 1978 to return to the castle for a weekend of reconnecting, reminiscing and recreation. We hope the passage of time has been kind to you all and look forward to welcoming you soon.

Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc, DWiz, X.J sorc, S of Mag Q

It's been five years since graduation, and while many things have changed, some things never will.

James Potter Won't Go Quietly by la_plus_heureuse (on ao3)

Lily Evans remembers plenty about James Potter from Hogwarts. But an assignment from Mojo Magazine to profile the Quidditch star turned activist makes her realize what she remembered was all wrong.

canon divergence staring quidditch player James and journalist Lily

On A Scale of One to Ten (requires an ao3 account) by @petalsinwoodvale

Lily starts falling for an insecure, yet charming auror named James who is recovering from injury in her ward. No one else on staff will sit and talk to him, mostly due to septic skin covering most of his upper torso. Lily, however, finds him charming and funny. Naturally, when James' injuries start healing, he grows more and more handsome. The other healers suddenly take interest in James, romantically ...

foxy by lizpaige (on ao3)

Lily joins the boys at the shrieking shack on a particularly difficult moon in her new animagus form.

Lily & Remus friendship is so special to me

#jily fic rec #jily #jple #lily x james #lily evans #james potter

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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months

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Day 30: scary movies

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

The translations of the French sentences are at the end and I give special thanks to @cumulo-stratus for helping me check that they were fine. I hope you like it!

“We're here,” Spencer announced, although that was obvious, when he parked the convertible car that Rossi had very kindly offered to lend to you.

Now that Halloween was so close, the doctor had invited the entire team to the drive-in theater for the broadcast in its original language of Eyes Without a Face, a 1960 French film, but everyone had found an excuse not to attend. Most of them refused due to their ignorance of the language and Emily, who was the only one who spoke it as fluently as Spencer, already had plans that night.

“I can go with you” you had said kindly. In other circumstances you might not have accepted, but now it made you feel guilty leaving your friend alone. In addition, the plans with him were always calm and, to a certain extent, educational "But I warn you that all I know how to say in French is Bonjour”

Your friend was happy with your response and he asked you not to worry, telling you that all you had to do was take it to him so he could translate the words for you. So Rossi told you that he would collaborate on one of his cars and Spencer almost died when he saw it, not because he was a big fan but because he was worried about how much money he would have to pay if he made the slightest scratch on it.

“There are more people than I imagined,” you murmured, nodding toward the rest of the parking lot. The majority were couples, as expected, and a few older adults.

“It was a very popular story during that time, despite the censorship it involved. We once had a similar case in… Well, I'll remind you when we finish watching it. I don't want to ruin anything for you," he murmured, smiling.

That night he had chosen an outfit that was quite common to see him in at the office: brown cardigan, an argyle vest, formal shirt, and tie. Everything was fine with that, what was really driving you crazy lately was the hair. Spencer styled his hair in a certain way that… you couldn't explain it, he just made you think of Prince Charming in fairy tales.

And the fact that you started to see it that way didn't help a damsel like you at all.

“It's okay if you can't translate the entire film. Just telling me a couple of lines is enough, I will be guided by what I see”

“No, that's not a problem. I can do it"

Of course you knew he could do it, it was Doctor fucking Reid. You were just worried that you would end up more focused on his whispering lips than on the screen in front of you.

Luckily the movie started and you managed to maintain the necessary composure. Luckily your brain was able to pay attention to what you saw, what you heard, and what Spencer was murmuring to you. At first you may have only agreed to accompany him out of kindness, but as the story progressed you realized that it was actually good. Little by little you were remembering a case that, as he had said, you had investigated, but that should probably be a talk for after finishing the movie.

You had to admit that something was captivating about the French language, because even if you didn't understand a thing they said, it was nice to hear it.

Calme-toi, ma chérie.

Faites-lui confiance.

One of the characters murmured and a second later you heard Spencer with the respective translation.

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him”

"Repeat that"

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him?”

“No,” you murmured, seeing him frown as if he didn’t understand your request. “Repeat what he said, in French.”

The idea had come from God knows where and you had only mentioned it in the heat of the moment, otherwise you would never have asked him. It was just that the words had sounded so exquisite that you wondered if the soft voice of the man next to you would replicate them in the same way.

Spencer wanted to ask you why you wanted that, but he was afraid of ruining his only chance to impress you with his skills, so he just turned enough so you could see him better and mentally visualize the words he needed.

When he leaned a little towards you to have more privacy you felt his breath hit your neck and adding to the soft aroma of his cologne that reached your nose you felt slightly dizzy.

If a single action had been enough to make your entire body shake, it probably would have been hearing Spencer Reid whispering French in your ear.

“Calme-toi, ma chérie. Faites-lui confiance”

“Once again,” you laughed, thankful that the low lighting didn’t allow you to see a blush on your cheeks.

"Why?" he said amused, thinking that perhaps it was prudent to inquire about your request.

“I don't know, when you talk it you sound so…” so sexy “nice. Like feeling velvet between your fingers”

Spencer was definitely flattered by you, you could tell by the way he chuckled and his body flinched slightly.

“I don't sound that good because I haven't practiced French for a long time, but my mom wants to go to Paris one day so if we go together, I'll be able to do it. I learned it a few years ago, it is a somewhat difficult language”

“Can you say anything else?” you asked excitedly, as you scooted a little further against him to the point where your knee brushed his and your faces were just a short distance away “I mean, of course you can, but could you do it?”

“Huh, what do you want me to tell you?”

“Whatever,” you smiled sweetly. You weren't even paying attention to the movie anymore, which was playing in the background, but you only had eyes for him and his pretty face.

Spencer's face. Your co-worker.

Despite the inappropriate course that your thoughts had taken, you kept watching him while he thought for a few seconds what he was going to say to satisfy your curiosity. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he tilted his head slightly and you swore it was almost as if he wanted to maneuver his lips to yours.

“Je pense que tu es vraiment belle”

The phrase was just a caress, a feather sliding across your ears that managed to stop your breathing and accelerate your heart rate. Maybe French was called the language of love for a reason.

"What does it mean?" you asked in barely a whisper.

But Spencer didn't respond, he just stared at you and for a second you thought his attention had been diverted to your parted lips.

“Keep watching the movie or you'll miss the best part.”

“Spencer, what does it mean?”

“There he is saying that she can be admitted tomorrow morning.”

“Spencer,” you said sternly. Even with the tone of your voice, he did not look to your side, pretending to be extremely interested in the movie playing, “What did you tell me?”

“You only wanted to hear me speak in French, you never asked for a translation”

“Reid!” You complained, extending your hand to his arm to get his attention and force him to look at you. “I swear if you offended me…”

“Je ne t'offenserais jamais”

“Stop it,” you threatened him, pointing a finger at him and frowning.

“Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser”

You responded to that with an exasperated sigh and suddenly a scream that you didn't expect on the screen startled you greatly, causing you to instinctively jump into his arms.

It was an absolute, cheap cliché, but that didn't make it any less romantic.

"You see? Pay attention” was all he said, with a tone that showed how much fun he seemed to be having.

You readjusted yourself in your seat without saying anything and obeyed his words, looking at the strange black-and-white scene. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Spencer lick his lips before he started shouting explanations about the story again which you listened to carefully, trying not to think too much about what the two sentences he had told you meant but which would keep you curious for the rest of the night.

Suddenly you felt him stir next to you and raise both arms, as if he wanted to stretch his back, while a yawn left his lips. What really caught your attention was feeling that one of his limbs, the one that was close to you, when getting off was placed on the edge of the seat behind your back and not on his lap as it should be.

“Tell me you didn’t do that.”

"Do what?" he asked, but from the stutter in his voice you knew he knew well what you meant.

“That's the most common tactic on earth,” you muttered between laughs. Spencer lowered his head as if he were embarrassed and ready to take his arm away from you, but you raised your hand until you took his and slid a little so that you were leaning against his body. “But I'll let it go just because you're cute.”

Cute. The word resonated in Spencer's mind and warmed his cheeks, while he felt how you settled your head better on his chest and began to caress the back of his hand with your thumb. You were so soft and warm he felt like he was going to die.

“Where is my star translator?” he heard you say and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

You stayed in that position for the rest of the show while he whispered in your ear and you listened to the soft beat of his heart, feeling that, at least for one night, the world belonged only to the two of you.

Translation

"I think you are really beautiful" (Je pense que tu es vraiment belle)

"I would never offend you" (Je ne t'offenserais jamais)

“If I could, I would erase this angry face with a kiss” (Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser)

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Batting Practice Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With a little help from Jake, Bob and Molly, Bradley gets a chance to plead his case. But you're still on the fence about the Phillies game, and Bradley can't stand the thought of disappointing Everett. He bought those tickets for the three of you, because he wants to be on your perfect, little team.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and fluff

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

When Molly told you that she couldn't take Everett to practice on Thursday, you actually whined at her. You were a mess of every emotion that could possibly be felt right now, and you were afraid you'd collapse like a house of cards in a stiff breeze as soon as you saw Bradley's big brown eyes again.

And then you remembered everything Jake said, and you wanted to run Bradley over with your car. You couldn't go on feeling this divided inside. You were exhausted and not sleeping well, and you snapped at Everett over nothing this morning. And now as you were about to pick him up and take him to practice, you needed to get back on track. You needed to stop thinking about Bradley.

"Mom!" Everett said, climbing into your car and buckling up. "Only three more days until the Phillies game."

You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on your steering wheel before you started pulling out of the parking lot. "Ev, I don't know if that's still happening."

There was silence from the backseat. "Is this because you've been sad?" Your heart was squeezing in your chest as you swallowed hard. "Because the Phillies will cheer you up! And Coach Bradley will be there, and it's not on a tee ball day, so I can just call him Bradley like you do. And we can eat hot dogs like we did at the game last year."

"Ev," you managed to say, but there were tears in your eyes again. "We can talk about it more later, okay?"

"Yeah," he whispered, and you knew he was confused and upset, but you thought this was better than blindsiding him later.

When you got to the ballfield, you made it a point to park far away from the Bronco. You changed your shoes on your way down to the bleachers like you always did, and Bradley came over to greet Everett like he always did. But his eyes were hopeful and set on you, almost like he was relieved.

"Kitten," he whispered in that damn voice that made you see stars when you touched yourself in bed.

"Coach," you replied without emotion, kneeling down in front of Everett to help him change into his cleats.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to see you," Bradley said softly, and you could see him shifting from foot to foot out of the corner of your eye.

You kissed Everett's cheek and sent him over to Bob to warm up. Then you met Bradley's soft gaze with one of steel. "Molly was unavailable today. That's why I'm here. And I thought I told her to tell you to stop sending flowers to my house."

He nodded. "She did."

"Then why are there still flowers being delivered to my house?"

Bradley reached for you, but you stepped away from him. This was good. He was pissing you off. You didn't feel like forgiving him at all. He wouldn't stop with the flowers, and he was trying to touch you even though you didn't want him to.

"Kitten," he whispered.

"Stop calling me that."

He sighed. "I know why you're still mad at me. You should be mad at me. I'm mad at myself." When you didn't respond, he said, "I'll stop sending flowers to your house if you let me walk you and Ev to your car after practice."

It seemed like a small price to pay, honestly. "Fine."

Bradley's eyes lit up like you had agreed to a lot more than walking forty yards with him. "Perfect," he whispered. "I can't wait."

You watched him walk away as you settled on the bleachers. Really, the walk to your car would only take a few minutes, and Everett would be doing most of the talking. You'd be fine. And over time, you'd get over Bradley and the way he broke your heart.

So you watched the practice, trying to focus on Everett, but fully aware that your gaze made its way to Bradley every few minutes. You almost couldn't handle the way he was so sweet with your son, kneeling down to make sure Everett was okay after he got hit with a ball. You didn't have the heart to tell your son that there would be no more hanging out in the park with his coach.

When practice was ending, you pulled Everett's shoes out and braced yourself for the walk to your car with Bradley. It would be fine.

Then you heard the other moms, and you felt like crying again as you looked down at your feet. "I see she's finally back at practice today, Tara." It was Sandra, not even trying to keep her voice down.

"I don't see how she's allowed to be Team Mom if she's never here." What the hell? You only missed one game and one practice!

"Here comes Bradley. I think I'll ask him about it."

But Bradley must have heard them, because you looked up to see him and Everett standing in front of you. "Come on, Sandra, don't give her a hard time for missing a practice," Bradley said, and you gaped at him. He looked angry as he talked to the other moms.

You turned to look at Sandra over your shoulder as she sweetly said, "It was actually a practice and a game, Bradley. And I'd be more than happy to take over her duties."

"No," Bradley said firmly. "She's the best, and I want the best for the team."

"It was just a suggestion," Sandra muttered, glaring at you as you stood and had Everett sit down. You quickly switched his shoes without a word and then you turned to Bradley who was looking at you like you were something to be adored.

"We're walking to the parking lot now," you told him. "And remember, no more flowers after this. Come on, Ev." You watched your son bounce a few steps ahead of you and Bradley, and you decided to be as cordial as you could. "And thanks, but I don't need you to defend me like that. I can take care of myself."

Bradley looked at you while you looked straight ahead. "I know you can. And you can take care of Everett, too. That's part of the reason I find you so sexy."

You pressed your lips together and tried to keep yourself from moaning. It wasn't fair that he was able to make you so confused with just his words. Then he added, "I'll always defend you both, Kitten. Always."

"Bradley," you murmured, emotionally lost between tears and attraction.

"You and Ev, whatever it takes," he rasped, his voice so soft as you watched Everett stop his bouncing.

"Hey, Coach? My mom said we might not be going to the Phillies game."

"Ev," you said, cutting Bradley off before he could say anything. "I said we would talk about it later."

"But Mom, it is later," he replied, and you watched Bradley rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. "And I really want to go!"

Thankfully you were close to your car now, so you started walking a little faster. But you still heard Bradley say, "I really want to go, too."

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

Bradley's heart was pounding as he opened the back door for Everett just like he used to. You had parked so far away from his Bronco, it made his heart ache even more. Before he closed the door, Bradley leaned in and said, "Great practice today, kiddo. I'll see you on Saturday? You'll be well rested? We need our power hitter against the Tiny Cardinals."

"Yeah, Coach Bradley," he replied with a high five. But Everett's disappointment over potentially missing the Phillies game was palpable, and Bradley's heart clenched as he closed the door.

He turned to look at you, realizing this was his only chance. After this, he wouldn't be able to hold anything over your head to make you talk to him or spend time with him. If he didn't pull this off now, you'd kick him to the curb for good.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I'm never going to lie to you, Kitten," he promised, and he watched your eyes flutter closed as you leaned back against your car door. "I said that shit so many weeks ago, because I was afraid of the way I felt about you. I was dying to get to know you, even after the first day we met. You and Ev? You're perfect, baby. You're obviously too good for me, that much is clear. And I was insecure, and I am embarrassed about it now."

"Bradley," you whispered, looking up at him with tears in your pretty eyes. The urge to touch you was almost too much, but he managed to keep his hands clenched at his sides.

"I know, Kitten. I fucked up with you. I would do anything for you to forgive me, for you to let me try to make this right. Because I want to be with you, be your only ball of yarn. But I will get on my knees right now and beg you to let me take Everett to the Phillies game on Sunday. I'll beg you if that's what it takes, because I can't bear to see him upset. I can't be someone who lets him down after making a promise to him. Please."

You just looked at him, your lip quivering as you wiped the unshed tears from your eyes. The words were right there on the tip of his tongue, but he was too afraid to say them yet. He knew you'd get right in your car and drive away if he dared to say them to you right now. So he nodded once and started to drop down to his knees, but you reached for his arm, keeping him up.

"Don't beg," you whispered, releasing him as soon as you were convinced he wasn't going to kneel down. He wanted your hand back on him immediately, but you were clasping your fingers nervously in front of you now, and Bradley once again couldn't believe he'd done this to you.

You sniffed and then said, "You can take Ev to the Phillies game, but you'll have to find someone else for the third ticket. Maybe Bob will go, too."

Bradley's heart was pounding. You were going to let him take Everett to the game. "Kitten, it's either the three of us going together, or Ev and I will sit with an empty seat next to us. I got that ticket for you."

You licked your lips and nodded, and Bradley was just about to reach for you, but then you said, "After Sunday, I'll figure out how to tell him that you won't be spending time with us outside of tee ball anymore."

And as elated as he felt over being able to take Everett to the game, now he was afraid he was going to cry in front of you. "Kitten, just think about coming with us, okay? Just think about not having that conversation with him."

You started shaking your head, but Bradley caged you in against the door, his fingers brushing your hair. "You won't let me drop to my knees and beg you. You won't let me try to be better for you. Kitten, you're breaking my heart. So please, please just don't make any decisions like that yet. That third ticket is yours if you want it. I don't need an answer yet. Just think about it."

You were just a few inches away from him when you finally nodded, and Bradley let out the breath he had been holding.

"I'll think about it," you whispered, barely meeting his eyes, and he moved out of your personal space as you opened your door and slipped inside. Bradley gently closed the door and watched you drive away as Everett waved to him from the back seat.

As soon as you were out of sight, Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he scrambled just in case it was you. Maybe you already decided to give him another chance?

It was Jake. "What do you want?" Bradley growled into his phone.

"Hey, are you coming to the bar tonight? I have some good news for you."

Bradley signed and headed for the Bronco. "This better be the best news I've ever heard."

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

You were thankful that Everett's game wasn't until Saturday afternoon, because that meant Molly could come with you. She had been so good to you all week, making sure you had everything you needed and running Everett around when she wasn't working. Plus, she'd been spending a lot of time with Bob.

It was obvious to you that she was smitten with Coach Cute Glasses, and things were starting to heat up a bit for them. You were happy for her, of course you were, but every time you thought about the night that the five of you went out for pizza, you got jealous. You wanted that all the time. But you also wanted Bradley to respect you and Everett.

"You ready to go?" Molly asked Everett as he was dressed in his uniform.

"Ready!" he said with a high five. When you had walked past his bedroom door to make sure he was getting changed for the game, you saw him flipping through the binder of baseball cards that Bradley had apparently dropped off for him. The stuffed Phanatic was back on his bed for now. His Phillies cap was hanging on the doorknob. You were making the right decision by allowing Bradley to take him to the Phillies game. But you were a little sad you'd be missing out.

"Let's go then," Molly told him, bending to tickle his sides. "Stop messing around, Everett. We'll be late if you don't stop," she told him as she continued to tickle him until he escaped and ran out to your car. "God, I fucking love that kid."

You laughed for the first time in so many days. "He's the best."

Molly looked at you cautiously. "Bob told me that Bradley was grounded at work all week. He was a distracted mess, so they wouldn't let him fly."

You gaped at her. "He was?"

"He was," Molly confirmed. "According to Bob, he's a mess over what happened with you. He can barely eat, and he's been drinking a lot of bourbon."

You bit your lip against the feeling of elation filling you up. You didn't necessarily want Bradley to feel that way, and you certainly didn't want anyone to get hurt. But if he was really distraught because of you, then maybe he really did care. Maybe he really did have a change of heart.

"And that's not all," Molly added as you followed her out to your car.

"It's not?" you whispered, heart pounding.

Molly shook her head. "I'm only telling you this, because I'm pretty sure Bobby is incapable of lying. But Bradley told him he's never felt this way before, and he's in it for the long haul, willing to keep trying to get you back. He said you and Everett are perfect."

You froze with your hand on your car door. "He told me that, too, Molly. Do you think I should give him a second chance?"

Your sister sighed and just kind of shrugged at you. "I love you, and I want you to be happy. Did he make you happy when he wasn't being a douche canoe?"

You closed your eyes and pictured him eating ice cream with Everett on his lap. You thought about how he still showed up to Career Day. You thought about sitting on the beach and having cheap burgers and expensive champagne with him. "He did," you whispered, your forehead coming to rest against your car.

"Mom, we'll be late!" Everett called through the closed door, and you lifted your head to look at Molly.

"Maybe let him try to prove that he means what he's saying now, and not what he said before?" Molly suggested.

"Maybe," you agreed, opening your door.

This time you parked a little closer to the Bronco, and when you spotted Bradley, he was already making his way over.

"There's Coach Bradley," Everett announced, hopping out of the car before you even had your seatbelt off. You watched Everett run right for him without hesitation, knowing he'd be welcomed by a hug and a pat on the shoulder. Bradley turned Everett's Tiny Eagles cap around backward just like his, and you could see Everett talking a mile a minute.

"You're staring longingly," Molly remarked.

"I can't help it," you groaned. "I want to believe him. I don't want to have to tell Everett that we can't spend time with him anymore. And I want to go to the damn Phillies game tomorrow."

"Then go," Molly urged. "If he fucks up again, you can pull the plug with no remorse. A third chance is one too many, especially where Everett is concerned."

When you climbed out of the car and made your way toward Bradley, he tracked your every move. "Kitten."

You pressed your lips together. "Hi, Coach," you replied, and you found it impossible to keep emotion from your voice today. Bradley must have noticed it, too, because he took a stumbling step toward you while his hand was still on Everett's shoulder.

"How are you?" he asked, and Molly breezed right past him in search of Bob.

You shrugged and said, "Okay."

"Time to start warming up," Bradley told Everett, and then when your son was gone, he took another step closer to you. "I miss you a lot, Kitten. I've been miserable. The best parts of my week were Career Day and when I got to see you at practice on Thursday. And right now. This is probably the best part of my week."

He was wearing down your resolve with his words and his unshaved face and the exhausted look in his brown eyes. And the fact that this was probably the best part of your week as well was at the forefront of your mind.

Bradley opened his mouth to say something else, but you could hear the umpire calling for the coaches. "You better go," you told him, but he didn't move.

He swallowed hard, brown eyes on yours and asked, "Can we talk more after the game? Walk up to your car again?"

You were nodding before you even knew it, and a hint of a smile graced his lips as he turned toward the team.

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

When the Tiny Eagles managed to pull out another win, Bradley was happy. But when you let him walk you back to your car while Molly and Everett ran ahead of you, he was elated. Your fingers brushed against his, and Bradley was dying to take your hand in his. But then you moved further away from him.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his hat, beyond nervous about how you were going to respond to him. "I'll be at your house at noon tomorrow. That okay, Kitten?" You turned toward him with a puzzled look, and the afternoon sun made your eyes light up.

"I thought the game started at four?" you asked softly.

"It does. But there's something I wanted Ev to see at the ballpark before the game starts. If that's okay." Bradley was shocked when Jake managed to work his connections to get access to the locker room before the game. Bradley was also allowed to let Everett on the ballfield and pitcher's mound. Now if only you would agree to come, too.

You nibbled on your lip. "That should be fine. I'll have him ready to go at noon." Then you turned away from him and headed for your car, but Bradley reached out for your hand. And you didn't pull away.

"Are you coming too, Kitten? That ticket is yours. Like I told you from the beginning, I'd be happy sitting in any seat where I can see you."

Bradley watched your eyes flutter closed, and he pulled you a little closer by your hand. "Bradley, I don't know if it's a good idea."

"Me and you are a great idea. I didn't quite see it at first. Not the full picture anyway. But I do now."

Your voice was firm, but your eyes were soft as you said, "Everett and I are a package deal. You don't get me without him, and you don't get him without me."

"I understand, Kitten. You're a team. I'm dying to be on that team."

You sucked in a deep breath and said, "I'll see you at noon tomorrow." And then your hand was slipping from his grasp, and you were walking toward your car and pulling out of the parking space. And Bradley still didn't know if you'd be coming to the Phillies with him and Ev or not.

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

When Bradley pulled up to your house at ten minutes before noon the following day, he had finally reached the point where he would accept what you told him. If you said you didn't want him around any longer after he brought Everett home tonight, he'd let you move on. He'd figure out a way to enjoy the last few weeks of tee ball with Ev, but then he would just get used to missing both of you. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Everett was bounding out the door wearing a Phillies jersey and his backwards cap before Bradley had even reached the porch. "Bradley! We match!"

Bradley laughed and gave him a hug. "We sure do, kiddo. I'll bet we're the biggest Phillies fans in the whole city."

Everett's eyes went wide. "Yeah. You're probably right." Bradley was eyeing the front door cautiously while Everett asked if he knew who the starting pitchers were going to be.

"I'm not sure, but they'll announce it before the game starts," Bradley muttered, but there was still no sign of you. "Where's your mom, Ev?"

But then there you were, casually strolling out onto your front porch in ripped jeans and a Phillies shirt. And Bradley took that as a very good sign. "Do you want me to drive? Since I have the booster seat for Ev?" you asked, walking down the front steps to join them.

Bradley was gaping at you. "You're coming?" Everett was beaming, looking back and forth between the two of you.

"Yeah, I'm coming," you said softly.

Relief washed over Bradley, and suddenly it felt like the perfect spring day. It felt like he was being given another chance. "I'm happy there won't be an empty seat."

You smiled softly at him. "So you want me to drive?"

Bradley shook his head and reached for your hand and Everett's. "I bought a booster seat and installed it. I can drive."

Your palm slid across his as you echoed him. "You bought a booster seat? For Everett?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "And now I'll have it ready for the next time we go somewhere?" He heard the soft sound you made as you watched Everett climb into the backseat, and then Bradley leaned in close, his lips brushing your cheek. "Please, Kitten, tell me there can be a next time?"

You turned a bit, and your lips met Bradley's so softly as you said, "I hope so."

With longing in his heart, Bradley opened the door for you, and then he walked around to the driver's seat. After he started the Bronco and shifted into drive, he let his hand come to rest on the seat, and you took it in yours.

"This is the best day ever!" Everett cheered from the backseat as Bradley headed for Petco Park and the Phillies, feeling better than he had in over a week.

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Kitten is going to the Phillies game! Coach, do not fuck this up, my man! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 15

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