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#( as in…his head will still be able to sort of whisper and reach into peoples minds )
zukosdualdao · 2 days
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oh, i want to know the way it feels
zutara month, day 20: accidental kissing, @zutaramonth
summary: upon zuko fearing they've been made while he and katara are at the market, he and katara make a brief excursion to the alleyway. when katara reaches for her bending, it's totally an accident when she kisses him. she's pretty sure. and it's totally an accident when both of them kiss each other back. it certainly doesn't mean anything.
other notes: we are back at it at the ember island marketplace lads! #idiotsinlove
They’re in the marketplace, walking side by side—Katara bravely does not blush when she feels their hands brush in the place between their sides—when she senses Zuko stiffen. From her periphery, she can see his mouth has turned slightly to a frown.
“What… ?” she asks, and suddenly, his hand is around her wrist. It doesn’t hurt, but the motion is so quick that it startles her as Zuko guides her to a nearby side alley, just to the right of a clothing stall. From the side of his mouth, Zuko murmurs, “Someone was staring at me. They might know who I am, or recognize us.”
On instinct at hearing this, Katara presses her back to the wall of stone. She’s less able to ignore the way the gulp in her throat as their middles press together, Zuko leaning over her as though to guard her in case someone comes after them.
It’s sweet, but… “I can take care of myself, you know,” she teases him lightly. “Master waterbender here, remember?”
When Zuko turns to meet her gaze, his smile is small but sort of breathtaking. Katara wishes she could see it more. She wishes they had more to smile about. 
“It’s not likely I could forget that,” he says in a whisper. Like this, with his head turned just slightly down to look at her, they are a mere breath away from one another. 
Someone passes by their hiding spot then, and Katara startles—maybe the people Zuko had seen were following them—and jumps to her tiptoes, ready to pull out her waterskin and fight their way out if they need to. It’s only a second later that she realizes that she met her lips to Zuko’s when she did this. Both of them are stunned to stillness for a moment, but then she thinks he’s kissing back, or she is. It’s all a little unclear. 
His lips are soft and warm and gentle. A little shy, she thinks, even as he kisses back. It’s only after another moment that he seems to figure out what to do with his hands, placing one against her waist and, from the sounds of it, bracing the other against the wall behind her. Her own left hand still holds their basket of fruit, but the other reaches to cup his face.
When he pulls back, gasping a little exhale as he does, Katara tries not to be too pleased with herself that she sees his pupils are wide and dark. She drops her hand.
“I—sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it was me,” Katara says before frowning at the implication. She looks to the side and sees whoever was walking by has since passed. In correction that she’s unsure is fair or even true, she adds, “I thought they were approaching.”
“Right.” Zuko clears his throat now and breaks apart from where he was connected to her, allowing a few inches of distance between them. Katara misses his warmth. “I think they’re gone now.”
Katara hums in agreement. They make quickly to leave the market, Zuko seeming nervous to be spotted again as they do. As they journey back, she finds that their hands are grazing by each other again.
Katara flexes her fingers. They journey forward.
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endawn · 3 months
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as long as the stake isn’t silver and he’s stabbed anywhere but the heart, it’s more of an annoyance than anything. he can even survive decapitation ( someone would have to put his head back on, though ). his flavor of vampirism has its quirks
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avocado-writing · 4 months
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Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆
ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...
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Astarion
really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.
can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?
you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.
if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.
holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.
as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.
Gale
curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.
wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.
makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.
you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."
fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.
when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.
Lae'zel
only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.
"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"
hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.
makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.
it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.
"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."
goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.
Shadowheart
obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.
immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.
it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.
"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."
her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.
"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."
she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.
Wyll
panics.
you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.
he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.
lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.
helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.
when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.
constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.
Karlach
another panicker.
scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.
begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.
you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.
carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.
Halsin
sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?
squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.
you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.
he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.
kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.
Dammon
my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.
waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?
when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.
he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.
he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.
Rolan
another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.
"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."
rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.
you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.
Zevlor
practical but still worried about you.
you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.
you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.
when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.
when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.
does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...
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wolken-himmel · 1 year
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In which a Diasomnia student calls (Y/n) over to help when some of his fellow dorm members start turning into animals.
Upon arrival, the prefect realises that Malleus has turned into some kind of lizard, Lilia into a bat, Silver into a bear cub, and Sebek into a crocodile.
Request by anon.
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"T-They're inside the dorm... Please, do something, prefect!"
The crowd of Diasomnia students seemed to be in a frenzy as all of them frantically pointed at the entrance to their dorm. Some of them even looked like they wanted to follow you to the doorstep, but those were held back by their fellow dorm members. At least the majority of the students had been able to evacuate before the strange miasma could have gotten to them.
A cold shiver ran down your back, although you did your best to suppress it. "We'll try our best..." you assured the panicked student that had called for your help. Then, steeling your nerves, you turned to the entrance and carefully rapped your fist against the wooden door. "Malleus, Lilia? Anyone there?"
You received no reply.
"Can we go home?" Grim whined at once and tugged at your pajama sleeve. "I'm tired..."
His impatience amused you, yet you shook your head and replied, "No, we have to check up on Sebek and the others..." Your voice trailed off into a quiet echo, overshadowed by the weeping of the door as you pushed it open.
With the utmost care you could muster, you stepped inside the dorm. Few candles lit the vacant hallway, shrouding the interior in a frightening and unsettling mood. The cat monster watched as the darkness swallowed you whole. "Don't go in there! What if the plague reaches you, too?" He stumbled after you with clumsy and hasty steps.
You merely rolled your eyes while continuing your way. "There is no such thing as a plague..."
"Yes! That Diasomnia guy said something of a sickness that turned people into animals..." Grim gulped in fear. His paws clung to your arm tightly, and his head whipped in all sorts of directions whenever his ears picked up on anything. Once the two of you entered the kitchen, a frightened yelp escaped his maw. "I-I think I saw something slithering around on the floor—"
He cut himself off with a scream before pouncing into your arms. A sigh escaped your lips, but you nonetheless caught him and soothed him with a few awkward pats to his back. "We'll be careful, Grim..." you whispered. Then, you swayed him back and forth, as if he were a child. The motion seemed to calm his tense nerves, and he soon allowed you to set him down again.
"Just... stay close," Grim muttered quietly.
A foul stench entered your nose before you could reply. Your eyes soon found the source of the smell: a broken vial that lay in a puddle of green liquid. The revolting-looking liquid still emanated a strange fog that set off alarm bells in your head.
"Do you see the broken vial over there?" you muttered and pinched your nostrils close. "Don't breathe any of the fumes in..."
It only took your friend a few moments to decipher the words on the broken vial. "Wait, I recognise that thing! That was today's alchemy assignment! But... we weren't supposed to brew a transformation potion. It was just supposed to be something boring."
"Someone must have tinkered with it then. Perhaps a playful soul like Lilia." A sigh escaped your lips when the sound of fluttering wings caused the cat to cling to you again. Although this time, you swore you could feel a gust of wind brushing past your cheeks. "Well, looks like his prank went awfully wrong..."
Just as you were about to turn around and leave the kitchen, Grim's shaking paw stopped you. Once he had caught your attention, he carefully pointed at a fleeting shadow rummaging through the fruit basket. You steeled yourself to face a predator, only to witness a bat's head poking out from behind an orange.
"(Y/n)— do you see that bat over there? Is it..." Grim gulped in horror. "...laughing?"
Indeed, the small animal seemed to find joy in your frightened faces. He clutched his stomach with his clawed hands and doubled over in amusement. The bat remained on the kitchen counter, rolling around in laughter — until you picked him up by his feet.
"A bat... Oh no, the potion got to Lilia..." you whispered in defeat. "Don't worry, it's just me... We'll find a cure for this whole mishap."
He seemed to understand you, based on the way he grinned at you and fluttered his wings. As soon as you removed your grip on his feet, he sailed into the air — only to land on your shoulder. So preoccupied with the playful bat, you didn't notice when your cat companion suddenly was nowhere to be seen.
"(Y/n)! Help!" Grim cried out, but that was the last you heard of him.
Your head whipped into the direction of his voice at once, the sudden gesture startling the bat. Yet, your eyes could not find any trace of the grey cat. "Grim? Where are you?" you cried out and stumbled out of the kitchen. You managed to catch a glimpse of his trident tail as it disappeared behind a corner. "Grim! Grim! Hold on, I'm coming!"
At once, you picked up your pace. In your panicked state, you barely managed to register that the bat had decided to accompany you. Amused cackles escaped the bat's throat, but he was kind enough to guide you back on track whenever you lost the trail. Just as you were sure you had caught up to Grim and his captor, you were faced with another animal that blocked your path. Much to your dismay, this one wasn't as harmless as the small bat.
"A... A crocodile?" You blinked owlishly at the predator that lay in the middle of the hallway.
An annoyed growl escaped the crocodile's maw as soon as he caught onto your heavy breathing. With great effort, he managed to twist his neck in your direction. His large body and tail knocked over a vase, but he didn't seem to care. His attention was locked onto you, and his eyes burnt with annoyance.
You knew that look.
"Sebek!" you cried out and slowly inched towards him. "It's me, (Y/n)... I'm here to help you guys."
The crocodile watched you warily, but didn't move whatsoever. It was only when you tried to scoot past him that he lurched at you with the speed of light. Just in time, you managed to jump to the side, otherwise you would have been crocodile food. You immediately grabbed one of the decorative swords that hung on the walls and readied yourself, should he attempt another bite.
When he finally attacked again, you brought the pommel of the sword down onto his head. A dejected roar that sounded more like a whine escaped his maw. He shrank back at once to rub the dent in pain.
"Bad crocodile!" you cried out and returned the sword to its original place. "Do you have no manners? Just like your human self, eh?"
By then, the crocodile seemed to have snapped out of his bloodlust. With his head hung low, he inched closer to you. He had no intention of attacking, whatsoever — instead, he merely stared up at you with watery puppy eyes.
"I was just joking, Sebek," you muttered and carefully rubbed the place where you had hit him. A small smile appeared on your face. "And I hope you were joking as well when you tried to bite my head off."
He nodded eagerly.
At that, a few snickers escaped your lips. "Alright, apology accepted..." With the path now cleared, you rose back to your feet and rubbed your back. "Have you perhaps seen where Grim was taken to?"
The crocodile replied with another nod before twisting his large body so that he could move onward. He merely grumbled a few harmless complaints when the bat landed on his back for a rest.
"Lead the way, then." You followed the two as they moved through a series of winding hallways. Slowly but surely, you lost track of how many left and right turns you had taken. At least the bat and crocodile seemed to know their way around well.
After having crossed a corner for the umpteenth time, you found another obstacle lying in your way. This animal seemed smaller and much less threatening than the crocodile — especially so when you noticed the brown and fluffy fur. Soft snores came from the animal's direction.
"Please tell me the bear cub is better behaved than Sebek..." you whispered, drawing an offended growl from the crocodile in question. "Should we... wake him up?" Before you even had the opportunity to nudge the bear awake, the crocodile had already rudely swept his scaled tail against the bear.
He woke up with a startled yelp, his head snapping up in alarm. You also furrowed your eyebrows once your gazes met. "I know those eyes! It's you, Silver." A little chuckle escaped your lips when the bear drowsily pawed at your pajama pants. "Aren't you a cute one? So sleepy, so adorable..."
You swept him up into your arms and held him close to you. A series of pleased giggles escaped his maw when you rubbed that special spot behind his round ears. Promptly, he fell asleep again, drawing a sigh from you. "Oh right, we need to continue..." All your attempts of lowering the cub to the floor again were met with whines of protests from his side. You sighed in resignation, yet you couldn't bring it over yourself to go against his wishes. "Silver, I need to go rescue Grim... I really need to..."
Just as you were about to give in to his puppy eyes, your bat friend swept in and gave the bear a stern look. That seemed to have done the trick, as the bear now let himself be lowered to the floor.
"Thank you, Lilia," you breathed out in relief. "I couldn't have done it myself."
Now that the moral dilemma was taken care of, the four of you continued your search for your kidnapped cat companion. After another set of hallways and your feet slowly growing numb from all the walking, you reached a door that all three of the animals pointed at. Without wasting any more time, you carefully pushed the door open and peeked inside.
In the dim light of some candles, you found Grim cowering in a corner of the supposed bedroom. He seemed unharmed when he sprinted over to you and leapt into your arms. "(Y/n)... you came for me!" he cried out in relief. His body shook from head to toe.
Just as you were about to answer, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in your peripheral vision. The rest of the predator's body was hidden away in the darkness.
"Show yourself, fiend!" you exclaimed shakily.
The mysterious creature let out a disgruntled yawn before stepping out into the light.
You couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "A... lizard?" It was a large one, at that. Grim let out a frightened shriek and pressed himself deeper into your arms, especially so when the lizard wrapped his body around your feet. Perhaps it was a gesture to welcome you.
A little chuckle escaped your throat, and your eyes drifted to the lizard's glowing eyes. You could recognise those slitted green eyes everywhere.
"Ah, Malleus... mischievous old you."
You couldn't help but laugh when the lizard crooned in happiness once you rubbed the smooth scales on his back.
Grim, however, didn't seem to share your sentiment. His thrashing was still frantic, and he looked like he was about to faint. "He scared me to death! With his frightening tail that he grabbed me with..." he retold, a traumatised expression haunting his face. "And his glowing eyes..."
"Oh, Grim... You need to calm down," you mused and patted his back. "Malleus is a nice one, isn't he?"
"Get me away from him! Please!" Grim screamed when he felt the lizard's tail brushing against his legs.
You rolled your eyes. "Grim is such a crybaby... Right, Malleus?"
The lizard's maw grew into an innocent grin.
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magiccath · 5 months
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Tenth Doctor x short!Reader Headcanons
A/N: I saw @raz-writes-the-thing do this and have been meaning to put my own spin on it as a short person helplessly in love with 10. Let me know if y'all would be interested in a one-shot with some of these ideas (I might already be working on it hehe)
The Doctor really likes to pick people up off the ground when he hugs them, so you being on the shorter side actually works in his favor
He will move all of your things to the bottom shelves so you can reach them (anything to make your life easier)
Still, he prides himself in being able to reach things on the higher shelves for you
You establish a sort of code to deal with your height difference
A tug on the sleeve or a gentle tap means you want him to lean down (for whatever reason that might be)
A whisper in the ear, cleaning a smudge off of his face, or (his absolute favorite) a kiss
He gets excited every time you tap him, always secretly hoping he’s going to get some kind of affection out of it
You better learn to walk/run quickly cause he is entirely oblivious to the long strides he takes
If he’s worried you can’t keep up he will just bend down and urge you to hop on his back
Sometimes he just does that for fun too
Once he just ran around the TARDIS with you on his back for fun
He likes the close proximity of holding you like that
Any excuse for a hug
He loves being the big spoon cause he can wrap his whole gangly body around yours
Cuddles are his favorite (regardless of your height, let’s be honest here)
When you hug him he can comfortably rest his chin on your head
He’ll plant loving kisses on the top of your head and your forehead
Playfully calls you “short stuff”
He truthfully doesn’t mind the neck and back pain he will inevitably get from bending down all the time
It’s worth it to him
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Maroon (part five)
modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy How the hell did we lose sight of us again?
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A series loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist
story synopsis : a modern au where we first meet the reader as Helaena's best friend and the object of Aemond's affections. Will a tragic accident cause these lovers to crash and burn? Or will it be the catalyst for something greater?
in this chapter : the Dragonstone ball continues to unfold... Will Aemond ever be able to redeem himself after tonight? Will the reader let him back in?
series list : part one - part two - part three - part four - part five -
themes/warnings : angst, Aemond is a bit of an ass who needs therapy, jealousy, miscommunication
word count : 4k
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“... to these three, Strong boys.”
Aemond’s declaration brings the room into a state of silence, everyone in collective surprise. 
It is a known truth. One shared among people in hushed tones and averted eyes. But not like this. Never openly, in this way.
Aemond lingers on you, before something - or someone - cuts through in the corner of his vision. Gasps erupt across the hall. 
It’s Luke, who reaches Aemond in a flash and disarms him with a rough shove. Aemond barely budges, but is forced to take a step back, his chair skidding loudly across the floor. He laughs menacingly, and simply watches as his nephew makes another move. It doesn’t take long before the security team springs into action. Mr. Westerling puts a hand to Luke’s chest, halting his determined motion. 
“Not here, son.” His voice is gruff and commanding. The members of the high table look on, aghast. But Aemond stands still with a smirk on his lips. He raises his glass and takes a confident sip, all whilst staring Luke in the eye.
“You’ve crossed the fucking line,” Luke seethes.
“Have I?” Aemond croons. “I only speak the truth. I was merely expressing how proud I am of my nephews.”
“Aemond, that is enough,” Alicent pleads, wary of the prying attention from the onlookers. 
“It’s the truth, isn’t it, mother?”
“Not in front of all of these people.” Alicent doesn’t confirm her son’s statement, but she doesn’t deny it either, and Rhaenyra is quick to note this.
“Enough!” Viserys bellows, and all heads turn to the sound. “The feast… shall commence. Everyone, we apologise for this commotion. You see, this is why family reunions are not to be taken lightly.”
A nervous bout of shared laughter echoes. A line of servers rush out of the corner of the hall, platters of all sorts in their arms. Aemond’s outburst will be ignored. For now. 
His jaw is taut, arms tense on his sides like a viper still preparing to strike. You look down and notice that you’ve latched on to Jace’s arm in a death grip, your nerves getting the best of you. 
It doesn’t help that it’s the first thing Aemond sees when he turns his attention back to you. It’s enough to divert his thoughts from Luke’s provocation. As you move to sit back down along with the rest of the table, he swiftly strides over to you determinedly, weaving his way past the servers. 
“May I speak with you for a moment?” Aemond leans down, whispering. You hear a sense of urgency in his tone, or perhaps his mood is still heightened, his composure strained from the previous argument. 
Jace turns his head, and addresses Aemond with a passing glare, but doesn’t say anything. He leaves the choice up to you.
“Can’t this wait?” You whisper back, pausing to smile in thanks at the server who sets down a dish in front of you. “I don’t think I have anything to say to you right now, Aemond.”
“Please, darling,” he implores, still polite. But he knows that one way or another, he's going to have his moment with you.
You take a deep breath, sharing a look with Jace, and he merely nods in acknowledgment. To hell with it. 
“I’ll be back in 5 minutes,” you tell Jace. The entire hall is occupied with the feast, and they barely notice when Aemond leads you down an adjacent hallway, then through the side doors. You wonder what his date thinks of this, or if she has even noticed that he left. By the determined way he moves, you doubt whether he even cares.
His hand is at the small of your back, guiding you. Electricity shoots up your spine. Briefly, you consider if you should go back to the hall where it's safe, and it causes your steps to falter.
He appraises you for a moment, waiting.
“Where are we going, Aemond?” you finally ask.
“There’s a balcony just round there - ”
“This is far enough,” you gesture at the empty hallway. “I said I would only take 5 minutes.”
“That’s not long enough,” he protests right away, oddly sounding like a petulant little boy.
“Well, tough.”
He inhales sharply, biting his tongue as he wants to placate you. He wants to make you understand. 
He starts to speak, but you cut him off at the same time.
"Darling, I - "
“I don’t know why,” you shake your head at him, at the whole situation, “you do this. Maybe it is because of the accident, sure. I get that. It’s fucked up, what happened. But you shouldn’t have shut me off. I waited for you.” You step forward, and press your hand to his chest. You feel his faint heartbeat resounding beneath. “I didn’t even know what I was waiting for, or for what. But I did.”
He places his hand atop yours, holding it to himself. He did not anticipate that you would be so forward, and it catches him off guard. Whatever ill-prepared speech he had gets caught in his throat. “I didn’t know what to do,” he musters. “I didn’t think you would… still want me.”
Ridiculous. How could I not? “That’s just… an excuse.” Your thought makes itself known. The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, briefly, before his brows furrow as if something in his line of thinking cast a shadow over what should be a nice sentiment. 
“Is it?” he queries, almost mocking. “Look at me. Look at what I almost did back there. You’ve known me for a while, darling, but perhaps you’ve not known me long enough to know how rotten I truly am.”
There’s a menacing glint in his eye, one you’re sure you haven’t truly seen before. Not until tonight’s incident at the hall, and now that it’s being directed at you, you struggle to come to terms with how it makes you feel. 
Is this who he really is? Was the Aemond you’ve known a persona he so conveniently wore in the time he met you?
But you cannot ignore that part of you, maybe even greater and strong enough to trump your worries, which knows that you have seen who he is. You’ve always known. Through hints and whispers. And you wanted him anyway.
Aemond’s only ever this gentle around you, everyone said. 
Why would he be? What could he ever have gotten out of it? What else, but you?
You say nothing, merely watching the storm in his blazing blue eye. His sneering expression softens, suddenly conscious at how you seem to study him. At how your eyes greedily rake over his face, taking him in like you haven’t been able to in a long while. 
After those long and tortuous weeks apart, this is the first time you get to look at him without any distractions. Without the commotion of the ball. Without him trying to hide. 
“Then show me,” you finally say.
He makes a surprised noise. His usual hum, but lilting. 
Maybe you can blame it on that damned firewine, or you’ve gone insane, because you didn’t expect you would be so gutsy at this moment. But before you can question where your newfound bravery came from, and before your nerves from earlier can resurface, you raise your hand and let it hover over his leather eyepatch. 
He hums again, this time low in his throat. A warning. 
Your fingers make contact, ghosting over the smooth surface. You wince internally as you also touch a patch of his scar right under. You don’t even want to imagine how much pain he was in. You can’t, or you’ll lose all your nerve, and likely start crying. 
Keep it together, now.
Aemond remains unmoving, a feat considering his pounding heartbeat. He lets you continue, and ignores the instinctive twitch in his palms that compel him to push your hand away. 
When your thumb runs over the bottom ridge of his eyepatch, you catch his eye. “Aemond,” you whisper, asking for permission.
You barely lift his eyepatch when his hand wraps around your wrist in a vice grip, halting any movement. You look at him questioningly, searching, but his expression stays the same. Lips pursed in a tight line, jawline taut. His gaze holding you in place. 
You don’t say anything for a moment, but neither of you show any desire to move away.
You watch as he finally lowers his head, the hand around your wrist gently drifting to cradle your palm against his ruined cheek. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, all false bravado gone. 
“It’s okay,” you say, letting your thumb run gently over his scar. “You don’t have to show me.”
“I want to, I just - ” He looks at you, words left unsaid, but you understand all the same.
“I know,” you smile sadly. “I can wait.”
It’s not long before his arm abruptly drops to his side, causing your hand to fall from his face. 
“You shouldn't have to,” he looks away then, his distant expression returning. “It’s not fair to you. All this waiting.”
You shake your head at the change in his approach. The Aemond you think you know has always been a steady presence, observant and committed to the task at hand. Has he always been this mercurial? 
“Don’t you want me to?” you remark, disbelief lacing your voice. You step even closer, glaring up at him. “Is this why you brought me here? To finally put an end to all of this?”
He doesn’t respond right away, and the bastard just stares at you. His good eye rakes across the planes of your face, falling to your exposed shoulders and the outline of your dress, then back again. If you didn’t know any better, it almost looks like longing, like he actually wants you. 
And it infuriates you even more. 
You decide that - no - he doesn’t get to look at you like that and yet act in the way he does. “Our 5 minutes are up.”
You turn around, your skirts swivelling with the movement. Each step feels decisive, like you’re walking away from something - someone - important. But you do anyway. 
“Wait,” you hear him murmur under his breath, but you don’t let it sway you.
Then you hear his footsteps, heavy and sure. 
“I said wait,” Aemond repeats, commanding. You startle when he gets a hold of your arm, squeezing by the crook of your elbow, bringing you to a stop.
“For wh - ”
The words are stolen from your mouth in a rushed breath, when his lips claim yours. This is not the gentle Aemond you might have known, as he kisses you with an intensity that is bruising and relentless. 
You’re quite sure you had something witty retort prepared, something to put him in his place. Whatever that was, it’s all forgotten as his tongue glides along your bottom lip. As the kiss deepens and you feel the sharpness of teeth. 
“Hmm,” he purrs when he pulls away, and you feel it reverberate low in his chest where your palms are pressed. He connects his forehead to yours, and you’re grateful for it. The feeling of something solid calms the dizzying sensation in your head. 
You barely register the silence that filled the room, as your ears are ringing with the sound of your racing heartbeat and the small breaths that escape his lips. You think to say something and almost do, but then he crashes his lips against yours again. 
Demanding more. 
You feel yourself moving, Aemond guiding your movement, akin to the dance you shared in the great hall. Instinctively, you flinch when your shoulder blades collide with a marble pillar, causing you to bite down on his lip. 
A surprised hiss escapes his lips, followed by a low growl. 
Then, almost predictably, he dons his signature shit-eating smirk. He liked it. 
He hums as he lowers and plants a kiss on your neck, sucking a spot tender. "I think you missed me too, darling." Aemond has become a concoction of smugness and self-loathing, which makes for volatile tendencies as you witnessed in the Great Hall.
This won't make for a steady, healthy, calm affair. You just know it won't. But as he leaves a sure mark on your neck that causes the heat to pool down in your core, none of it matters.
You accept that Aemond is the poison you chose.
Gods, I'm starting to become melodramatic.
"Hmm?" he queries, and you realise that some of your private thoughts might have escaped the confines of your mind.
"Nothing."
He smirks, mostly to himself, gaze levelling with yours. He brings you closer, both hands gripping your waist, until your bodiced chest is pressed to the smooth leather of his tunic. From his height, he can't help but look down and enjoy the view.
A confession springs from his lips, without any hint of shame. "As much as you look good in that dress, darling," his gaze openly rakes over you, like a predator sizing up his prey, "it would look much more suited on the fucking floor."
Oh, damn him to the seven hells.
You’re so caught up in a haze, legs instinctively pressing together as a result of his lustful advances, that the oncoming clatter of heels against porcelain tile is almost imperceptible, but it snaps you out of it anyway.
“Aemond,” you grip his forearms and pry them away from you, having to use a bit more force now.
“Aemond!” Someone’s else voice echoes, closing in. It’s Alys, striding down the hall with sheer confidence. No doubt on her way to reclaim her date.
Her date. Not mine. What the hell am I doing?
You give him a withering look, and he straightens, folding his arms behind him.
“Alys,” he greets her coolly when she reaches the two of you.
“You can’t just run off like that,” she scolds, glancing at you just once before seemingly deciding you’re not worth the time. “They’re taking photos of everyone. You’re my partner. You need to present yourself with me.”
“There’s no rush,” Aemond says. And there truly isn’t. He knows that those bloody photographers would wait endlessly for him, of all people. No matter how long, just so they can get exclusive snaps of what people are deeming the return of the Prince of the City. “Give us a few minutes.”
"You've had more than a few minutes," Alys counters, unrelenting. Anyone else would've spun on their heel already, shirking under Aemond's pointed gaze. But not her. She's learned from having to deal with his moods.
And besides, he took her as his date. He owes her the satisfaction of having this as a part of her image. The city's most wanted bachelor with no one but her on his arm. Call her opportunistic, Alys doesn't care. This is the game, and she will play.
"Sweetheart," she says to you, the name not matching the condescension in her tone, "I believe Jace is looking for you too."
"Right, of course." You take a deep breath before finally walking away, hoping that the flush that's likely on your face doesn't give anything away.
Just before you pass by Alys, she says your name. Bringing a perfectly manicured finger to the corner of her lips, she dabs at it in some sort of gesture. "You've got a bit of lipstick there, sweetheart. Might want to tidy that up."
"Alys," Aemond warns, unamused by how Alys is sizing you up, like you're beneath her.
She knows. Of course she does.
Alys has a sneer that can make anyone feel like nothing but dirt on the sole of her high heels, but you stand your ground, despite the chill running up your spine. Her approach to you now is a drastic change from the friendly and poised confidence she sported when you first met her at the Targaryen penthouse.
Sparing Aemond a cursory glance, you address her with a self-assured smile of your own. "He's all yours. I'll leave you to it."
You feel both of them watch as you walk away. It might be all the glam and the buzz of the ball which leads to your next thought. Vain, but you let yourself have it anyway. Feeling like a runaway princess as your gown billows around your legs.
Aemond isn't yours. It was my mouth against his just a minute ago, his tongue dancing with mine.
When you return to the table, Jace immediately asks how it went, to which you just tiredly shrugged and said, "Uneventful."
He narrows his eyes at you. "You'll tell me later."
In the middle of your meal, Aegon approaches, clearly more sloshed drunk than he was before. Jace just watches him, with the calm recognition that this is not the uncle to watch out for.
"Hello, kids," Aegon leans against the table. He angles his head close to you, like he is about to divulge some secret. "Not that I was checking you out or anything, just saw it from where I was sitting over there and - "
"What do you want, Aegon?" Jace shakes his head, bored with his uncle's antics.
"Alright, alright!" Aegon playfully holds his hands up, wine glass and all. "No hostility from me, nephew. Just letting her know that maybe she should cover up my brother's work."
"What are you on about? Maybe drink some bloody water instead, mmm?" Jace counters.
His brother's work? Oh gods.
Your hand shoots up to your exposed neck, and the tender spot makes itself known as soon your fingers drift above it.
Jace's confused expression disappears when he realizes where your hand immediately went to. "Oh, really?"
You sigh guiltily. Scanning the table quickly, you don't find Aemond there to glare at. He must be posing for the cameras somewhere with his date. You find a friendlier face in Helaena, who catches on to your nervous expression.
She floats over to the small commotion of your little group, practically having to shove Aegon out of the way.
"You alright?" she asks sincerely, and you can't bring yourself to say, everything's fine, but I was wondering if you could lend me some concealer because your dear brother left something on my neck.
Thankfully, you don't have to. Or not thankfully, because Aegon does it for you in a way only he can.
Tapping on his own neck and gesturing to you, he explains, "Aemond's a monster, sis," through a graceless swig of firewine and then, "horny jail for him."
"Actually," he raises his arms like he's making some proclamation, "horny jail for both of you kids. Where is he anyway?"
"Leave it, Aegon." Helaena rolls her eyes, then offers her hand to you. "How about we run to the ladies room and take care of that?"
Thank the gods for Helaena.
"You owe me," she says, as the two of you head to the side of the hall, "and Aegon might be right."
"About what?"
She slaps your arm playfully, and you feign shock but a giggle slips out due to her expression.
"You and Aemond, I swear," she laughs dryly. "He's been even more sullen and emo since the accident - actually, the both of you have been - and now you're back to making out right in the middle of the ball!"
"We weren't - " you start to say, but you're met with Helaena's don't-you-dare kind of glare.
"It's your brother's fault, you know," you shrug as you enter the ladies room.
"Oh, I know," Helaena nods, pulling what she needs out of her purse. Right before she dabs concealer to the purplish spot on your neck, she can't help but smirk and add, "but still... horny jail for you."
- - - - - - - - - - 
Aemond doesn't know how much more of this he can take.
The cameraman clicks again, the damned flash is enough to blind his remaining eye.
Alys, being Alys, brought her own personal photographer to the ball. Which is fine, all things considered. She does this for every ball, every year. Aemond's well versed in her ways.
But for some reason, now it's driving him to be more irate.
She positioned them in a partially hidden alcove at the back of the hall. Something to do with a painting she wants to get captured as the background. But it's taking too long, and Aemond can sense the attention of some guests being piqued.
If they ask to take photos with him, too, Aemond just might pull off a runner and abandon the bloody ball.
But not without you.
Where were you anyway? One second you were at the table, then the next you were trailing after Helaena back out of the hall.
At least it was his sister you are with, and not Jacaerys. Or gods forbid, that degenerate Stark boy.
It wouldn't matter to Aemond that he's not his father's top boy, his most precious heir. Whatever pull he has with the Dragonstone empire, he will use against Winterfell Limited, if Cregan Stark ever thinks he can have his way with you.
He catches himself, mid-thought.
And she still thinks I'm not rotten.
"Aemond," Alys lightly digs her nails in his arm, smiling through gritted perfect teeth. "Smile, why don't you?"
"I am."
"Just one more."
So he does. Barely. But it's enough to placate her, and she quickly sifts through the photos.
Almost on instinct, like he's a moth drawn to your flame, he spies you and Helaena making your way back in the hall. Arm in arm, laughing to each other. You bite your lip as you lean in and whisper something in her ear, which makes her shake her head and laugh even harder.
Several heads turn as you pass by, and Aemond can't really blame them.
"Just like that," Alys says out the blue.
"What?" Aemond turns to her, unaware that she stands beside him once more, her photographer already dismissed.
"If only you smiled like that for our photos," she says. "It looks good on you."
Was he smiling? He didn't even notice.
You turn your head just before sitting back down at the table, and catch his eye even as he stands near the end of the hall.
You always will.
Aemond smiles.
- - - - - - - - - - 
preview: part six
You hear it. There's someone at your front door. Living alone has never given you much anxiety before, and you didn't think it would start tonight. But who could be knocking at your door past midnight, when you didn't buzz anyone in? You were never on close terms with your neighbours, either. 
You sit on your couch looking like a deer in headlights, staring at the door like it's supposed to silence the knocking. 
When did you get so wary? It could be Jace. It could be Helaena. But then again, they're not the type to show up unannounced. And also, you would have buzzed them -
Aemond's voice calls out your name, quieting your worries. 
You can sense hesitance in his tone. Almost embarrassed. Like he knows he shouldn't be here. 
"Aemond?" you find your voice, and go to open the door. You start to ask him just what the hell he's doing here, but the words get caught in your throat. 
"Hi, darling," he says weakly, obviously tired. "I didn't know where else to go." 
Something resembling a gasp escapes your lips when you fully take in the fresh bruise blooming under his right eye, in angry shades of maroon and violet. The skin split slightly, but thankfully his eye is untouched.
"Aemond, what - "
"Can I come in?"
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Series taglist (closed!): @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyv @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn
oh, Maroon...
I know I said there'd be smut, but it just didn't feel right (yet) - it WAS written for this chapter, but I'm saving it for part six. Just you wait, folks, not long now!
My Aemondfire is decisively back <3 expect more of our favourite boy
Also - I will take requests for short Aemond oneshots! 💙
206 notes · View notes
tkaulitzlvr · 8 months
Note
hiya! i live for your stories, i’m kind of addicted lol
could you please write 2010 tom meeting reader’s family for the first time over dinner, charming the shit out of them while teasing reader throughout the whole dinner, then sneaking off to the bathroom and… 🤭
TIME AND PLACE - T. KAULITZ
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synopsis: tom meets your parents for the first time, and he is a lot more relaxed than you are - perhaps too relaxed, teasing you beyond belief whilst your family are completely oblivious, the two of you ending up in the downstairs bathroom, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
content: smut
a/n: LOVEEEE this idea thank u so much for requesting anon! also can we please talk ab how hot he looks in this clip like i’m going insane, coincidentally it fits w this request so i had to use it. i also wanted to say thank you for 400 followers, i only had like two when i started LMAO so thank u to everyone that has followed thus far!! 💞
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“baby, calm down, everything is going to be fine. what’s the worst that can happen?” tom says as we climb out of the car.
“you clearly don’t know my parents tom.” i laugh, taking a deep breath and praying for some sort of miracle. my parents are classy, reserved people, with respectable jobs, and pretty traditional viewpoints - in other words exactly what my boyfriend isn’t. “just please, don’t mess this up. i really want them to like you.”
he smiles softly, closing the car door behind him, walking around to the other side where i am standing, placing his hands on my lower waist and kissing my lips softly.
“i’ll try, i promise. you’re getting worked up over nothing.” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead, pulling me into a short hug. i pull away, my hands resting on his chest as i inspect his appearance, straightening his jacket and brushing off any imperfections from the material.
he chuckles at my panicked state, softly grabbing my hands and shaking his head. “it’s going to be fine.” he repeats, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly before taking my hand and beginning the short walk up my parents’ driveway. “besides, what’s not to like about me? i’m funny, charming, sexy, kind, famous - i tick every box.”
i shake my head, pushing his chest lightly as i stifle a laugh. “seriously, my parents are hard to please. you wont be able to win them over as easy as you did me.”
“hm, we’ll see. i think i’ll surprise you.” he states, stopping once we reach the front door, my hand hesitantly reaching to place a few firm taps on it, my other squeezing tom’s in an attempt to calm my nerves. he notices this, running his thumb up and down the skin soothingly, whispering a small ‘don’t worry’ from beside me, the door opening as my mom stand there, wide smile on her face once she sees me.
“honey!” my mom grins, opening her arms out and pulling me into a tight hug. after moving to the city with tom and touring with the band, i hadn’t seen as much of my parents as i usually would, missing them more than i had realised. she pulls away, eyes turning to tom.
“you must be the famous tom. i’ve heard a lot about you.” she says, forcing a small smile on her face, though i can tell that she is silently judging him, not yet bold enough to say her thoughts out loud. her eyes turn to mine whilst she gives tom a quick hug, my face tensing as i shoot her a knowing look, immediately seeing the way that she has made her assumptions about tom.
“all good things i hope ma’am.” he smiles, pulling away from the hug and taking my hand, my mom moving aside to let us both inside the house. it is clean, my mom always insistent on keeping it spotless - a slight smudge of dirt on the floor, or photo frame out of place and she would lose it. the faint smell of lasagna wafts around the place, the aroma bringing me some sense of comfort through its familiarity - the dish had always been my father’s specialty for as long as i could remember.
“where’s dad?” i ask, tom’s hand still touching mine as my eyes wander around the large living room. it is his turn to be nervous now - i can tell from the way his hand doesn’t leave my own, feet anxiously tapping against the floor.
“in the kitchen, preparing dinner. it won’t be much longer now, you can sit down, and tom, make yourself at home honey.” she says, shooting him a warm smile before she disappears out of the living room, leaving tom and i alone. i sit down on the couch, shrugging my jacket off, leaving me in my purple summer dress - sophisticated yet casual. tom, as usual, is adorned in all black: bandana tied around his forehead, oversized t-shirt and an even bigger pair of jeans, complete with a plain jacket. he had wanted to dress up a little, yet i had convinced him otherwise, not wanting him to pretend to be something that he isn’t, deciding that my parents can like him for who he truly is, or not at all.
he sits beside me, placing a gentle hand over my thigh, rubbing the bare skin softly.
“you okay?” he asks, planting a quick kiss to my cheek, intertwining his fingers with mine, his leg still bobbing up and down.
“mhm.” i say, taking my free hand and placing it over his leg, stopping its fast movements. “are you? you’ve gotten all skittish.”
he chuckles lowly, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “just…not sure if your mom likes me.” he shrugs his shoulders, looking downwards.
“she’s the most blunt woman i know. trust me, if she didn’t like you, you’d know about it.” i answer truthfully, knowing that my mother has never been one to hide her opinions - she makes it painfully obvious how she feels and, besides from her slightly off introduction, it seemed that at least to me, she liked tom. “besides, since when do you get nervous, mr cool?”
a small laugh leaves my lips, a teasing smile playing on them, not used to seeing tom anxious. he is usually the most confident person i know, yet now he seems panicked, and the sight is strange to me, but, he shrugs it off.
“i’m not nervous.” he insists, about to continue, though he is soon cut off by the voice of my mom sounding from the kitchen.
“dinner!”
tom sighs, standing up as i follow. he wraps his arms around my lower back, leaning in to give my lips a few soft pecks, smiling into the short kisses that he places on them, giving my ass a teasing squeeze. his eyes are playful, a hint of indisputable mischief illuminating the sea of brown, one eyebrow slightly raised - i know that look far too well to see that it isn’t one of innocence. he has something on his mind, this not the time or place.
“get that look off of your face. not here, absolutely not.” i state, looking upwards at him and shaking my head, straightening my dress and taking his hand, leading him out of the room.
“what look?” he asks, attempting to act oblivious, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. i tut from in front of him, sending him a quick glance as we approach the dining room, my dad laying out the food and my mom taking a seat at the table.
we both take our seats, sat opposite my mom and dad. having never met my father before, i expect tom to be hesitant to speak - my dad doesn’t exactly look to be an approachable person. yet, he makes the first move, much to my surprise.
“i’m tom. nice to meet you sir.” tom smiles politely, nodding his head and holding his hand out for my dad to shake.
clearly shocked by tom’s politeness, my father’s eyes widen, hand reaching outwards and briefly shaking tom’s, before sitting back in his seat.
“ted.” my dad states simply, taking a sip of his wine before continuing. “great to see my daughter has brought home a man with manners, good on you, tom.”
i send my father a glare from across the table, tom smiling weakly in response, his eyes falling to the food in front of him.
“this looks amazing, thank you so much.” tom says, looking upwards as my parents mutter a small thanks, a brief silence looming over us. i turn to tom, seeing that same playful look on his face, much more prominent this time. i quickly shake my head, putting whatever thoughts that are in his mind at bay, shutting them down before he can even consider acting on them. one hand grasping his fork, he digs it into the food on his plate, the other trailing downwards ever so slowly, reaching the hem of my summer dress.
my eyes widen, unsure of how to act, my hand instinctively reacting to move tom’s away, yet i am soon stopped by the voice of my father. tom doesn’t slow his movements, instead they become more calculated, his hand snaking further and further up my dress. somehow, he acts nonchalant, facing away from me, eyes attentively looking at my father as he speaks.
“so tom, what is it that you do exactly?” my father asks, placing a mouthful of food in his mouth after speaking.
tom clears his throat, his fingers dipping teasingly into my panties under the tablecloth, my eyes widening as i attempt to act natural, tom able to do so with ease. “i’m in a band, i’m the guitarist.” he states, fingers continuing to toy with the lace material, dipping further inwards ever so slightly, causing me to fidget in my seat, attempting to hide what is going on.
“goodness can you sit still? i’ve never seen you shuffle in your seat so much!” my mother laughs, shaking her head and focusing her eyes on me. tom seems to find this particularly funny, his lips curving into a satisfied grin, knowing exactly why i am so squeamish, him being the reason, my parents totally unaware of the position his fingers are in. he lets out a small chuckle beside me, shaking my head as my mother did, faking a look of concern.
“are you okay?” he asks, his voice seeming a little worried, though the second i turn to face him, i can see the glint of mischief in his eyes as he knows exactly what he is doing, roping my parents in as they buy his concern.
just as i begin to reply, he slips one finger into my folds, a small gasp leaving my lips. my mother furrows her eyebrows, looking directly at me, clearly confused at my weird behaviour. my hand flies to cover my mouth, also in an attempt to disguise the light shade of crimson that my cheeks are turning, completely humiliated. though i manage to play the suspicious sound off as a hiccup, quietly excusing myself afterwards. “i’m fine, just a little warm.”
the entire thing is hilarious to tom, his lips curved into a smile so small it is almost unnoticeable, never fading as he engages in conversation with my father, his fingers continuing their restrained movements inside my panties, positioning themselves to toy with my clit.
“this band, is it really a sustainable career for you? how much do you earn? surely, it can’t be much.” my father states, unimpressed by tom’s job, failing to realise how successful he actually is.
tom laughs quietly, taking a breath inwards, discreetly slipping a finger inside of me, my teeth sinking into my tongue, clamping down onto it in an attempt to hide the moans dangerously close to spilling from my lips, his finger moving in and out of me at a teasingly slow pace. besides from this, he remains calm, too calm, considering that he is pleasuring me under the table - my parents totally unaware as tom somehow manages to win them over, this only pissing me off even more.
“no sir, i actually do pretty well for myself. we are quite well known, not just in germany, but we often do shows in america and other places. i make a great living out of it, actually.” tom is confident in his tone without being cocky, my father nodding slowly, seemingly satisfied with his response. he opens his mouth once again, about to ask tom another question, though when tom’s finger hits a certain spot inside me, a small whine from the back of my throat quickly stops him.
“are you okay? what is going on with you tonight honey?” my mom frowns, somehow not catching onto what is happening. tom remains unfazed, still pumping his digit in and out of me slowly.
“sorry, i’m just feeling a little under the weather. i must be coming down with something.” i apologise, forcing a brief smile as my mother nods her head, digging her fork back into the food whilst my father continues to interrogate tom.
“and how long is it the two of you have been dating?” he asks, his finger flicking between tom and i, though his question is directed mainly at tom.
“what is it now? two months, am i wrong schatz?” tom asks, knowing how long we have been dating without any doubt in his mind, though he deliberately places this attention on me, looking at me with that same smirk as my father’s eyes soon follow.
tom’s fingers pump in and out of me, his pace speeding up a little, my thighs clenching together at the feeling. sending him a quick glare, i clear my throat, trying to act as unsuspecting as possible. “yeah, two months, that’s right.” i say, nodding my head quickly, desperate to turn the attention away from myself, though it doesn’t take long for me to fail miserably.
“you look awfully warm, you’re sweating honey. do you need to step outside, maybe get some fresh air?” my mom says, tom’s fingers slipping out of me as she utters those words, my lips pursing slightly at the lack of contact. i turn to him momentarily as he sends a brief wink in my direction before taking a bite of his food, looking away from me as if nothing had happened.
“yeah, that’s a good idea. i’ll be right back. sorry.”
i quickly stand up, shaking my head and rushing out of the room, sighing in relief when i open the bathroom door, quickly closing it behind me.
i take a look in the mirror - my cheeks flushed, hair slightly frizzy, faint line of sweat glistening on my forehead, all thanks to the smug bastard back there. my hands turn the tap, cold water rushing out of it as i use it to begin splashing my face, attempting to regulate my body temperature, tom managing to get it so high with his actions.
the door swiftly moves open, my head shooting upward as i am met with tom’s eyes, his expression somewhat calm despite what he had just done.
“are you fucking serious? the fuck was that?” i hiss, hitting his chest in anger, my face falling in disbelief when all he does is chuckle at my temper, clearly failing to understand how mad i am at him in this moment.
instead, he hushes me, muttering out a small ‘be quiet’ before pushing my body harshly against the wall, his lips roughly colliding with mine moments after. his hands find my waist, running up and down soothingly, kissing my lips deeply, his desperation communicated through the hunger of his kisses. despite my anger, i quickly kiss back, my hands reaching upward to his face, pulling him closer to me, my fingers raking through his braids, momentarily running over the soft fabric of his black bandana.
“i don’t know why you’re acting so pissed off.” he whispers against my lips between kisses, becoming more rough with his movements. “you act like you’re angry, but you didn’t tell me to stop, did you? why?”
i stay silent, attempting to ignore his question, instead pushing his face even closer to mine, deepening the kiss and slipping my tongue into his mouth.
“i can tell you why.” he states matter of factly, pressing his body against mine, his hard on prominent through his jeans. “you didn’t want me to. you liked me touching you, even though your parents were right there, didn’t you, hm?”
i whine lowly in response, palming him through his jeans, watching the way his mouth falls open slightly, an almost inaudible groan escaping from it. i can sense his desperation, hell, it was clear the second he gave me that look in the living room, and it had failed to go away for the entirety of the evening. if i weren’t equally as needy, i would be scolding him, calling him out for his stupidity, though i am just as reckless as him, bringing him closer into me as i kiss his lips, moaning into it.
“we gotta be quick baby, okay?” he mumbles against me, his hands moving downwards to hoist me upwards, placing me roughly on the bathroom counter, clearly paying little attention as a few things fall onto the floor with a quiet thud. i hit his chest, pulling away momentarily, though he doesn’t seem to care, shrugging his shoulders and moving his hands underneath my dress to tug my panties off.
he lets them pool at my feet, hurriedly undoing the buckle on his belt, letting his own jeans fall to the floor, not even bothering to fully remove them. his boxers follow as he lifts up my dress, separating my legs apart and moving in between them, eyes lustfully staring into my own.
“you gonna be quiet, yeah?” he whispers, forehead against mine as i quickly nod my head, feet hooking around his hips in an attempt to bring him inside me faster. he strokes himself a few times, positioning himself at my entrance.
his lips collide with mine as he slowly slides inwards, muffling the low noises that spill from them, instead silencing my small whines with his tongue, slipping it into my mouth whilst his cock slides further into me. about halfway in, he stops, sensing the way my eyebrows furrow in discomfort, unable to accustom to his size so quickly, the lack of time we have leaving me a little unprepared.
“c’mon baby, take it. you can take it. just like that, doing so good.” he praises, grabbing my hips, angling them slightly differently, the change in position allowing him to push into me inch by inch, my walls clenching around him.
“fuck- you’re so tight, always so good for me.” he mutters, face burying itself into the crook of my neck, planting slow and soft kisses there, his hips beginning to rock back and forth once he senses that i am comfortable, the pain finally subsiding. his kisses become firmer, teeth occasionally nibbling downwards on the skin, leaving purple-ish marks in place of his lips, though i am too dazed to care, focusing on the way he dick slips in and out of me, tip prodding against my g-spot.
he pulls his head out of my shoulder, his hands removing their firm grip on my hips as he rests his forehead against mine, hands coming to either side of my face. his eyes burn into mine, though he sees a lot more clearly - my own rolling to the back of my head every few seconds, clenching around him when the pleasure becomes a little too much. though from the brief moments my eyes stay open and i am able to study his face, the sight is almost enough to make me cum on the spot.
his eyes are half-lidded, consumed by the hazy need for pleasure, eyebrows furrowed as a few wrinkles form on his forehead when they knit together. his lips are slightly parted, falling open further when his dick would hit a certain spot inside of me, small yet almost audible grunts sounding from the back of his throat.
a loud moan emits from my lips unexpectedly, tom hurrying to press his lips to mine, slightly covering up the sound. he pulls back soon after, his hands returning to my hips, using them to maintain the steady thrusts that i can tell are becoming harder for him to continue, the way his dick twitches inside of me letting me know that he is almost there.
“shhhh.” he coos, admiring the way my face twists in pleasure, knowing that he is completely responsible, nobody else able to have this effect on me. “almost there baby, so close.”
i nod weakly in response, attempting to meet his thrusts, grinding myself against him half-heartedly, this clearly having some effect on him as he throws his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to prevent any sounds from spilling out.
“shit, yeah. like that baby, keep going.” his voice is shaky, on the verge of letting out a moan, i can tell from the way he swallows harshly, hips faltering momentarily. i comply with his words, continuing to move my own hips at the same speed of his, pushing us both to our climax, though tom continues to do most of the work, his pointer finger reaching downwards to rub my clit in soft, slow circles.
“c’mon schatz, can’t hold it anymore. cum with me, mhm?” he groans, lips inches away from the crook of my neck, his teeth sinking into it harshly to prevent the loud groan that begins to sound throughout the bathroom as i feel him shoot his cum into me.
his thrusts remain slow and deep, fucking his cum into me as i reach my climax, eyes rolling to the back of my head, lips squeezing shut. he places one hand firmly over my mouth, hushing the restricted moan that sounds from it, his hips eventually slowing to a smooth stop.
he pulls out of me as i hiss at the loss of contact, a small ‘sorry’ spilling from his lips. my body falls forward, totally exhausted, chest heaving up and down as he pulls his jeans back up, wrapping his belt through the loops, bringing his lips to mine quickly.
“you okay?” he checks, running a gentle hand across my cheek, smiling gently once i nod my head. he bends down, sliding my panties back up and over my hips, pulling my dress downwards so that it covers my thighs.
sensing that i am still slightly weak, he picks me up, helping me down from the countertop, my legs buckling a little. it doesn’t take long for me to come to my senses, wondering how tom and i were going to return to the table. we couldn’t go back together without looking totally suspicious, my mind racing to find ways to avoid the utter humiliation that would come if my parents found out what had just happened.
“how the fuck are we gonna go back?” i sigh, running my hands through my hair, visibly stressed out. “how did you manage to leave, what did you say to them?”
he shrugs, hands loosely resting on my hips, evidently nowhere near as concerned as i am “just said i needed to use the bathroom.”
“okay…” i trail off, playing with the material of his jacket as i think, certain that if we are absent for much longer, my parents will begin to grow suspicious regardless of if we return together or not. “i’ll go first. wait a couple minutes then come back, okay?”
he smiles at my serious tone, stifling a laugh as i tilt my head, looking at him in annoyance.
“okay, okay. i got it, a couple minutes.” he laughs, placing a soft kiss on my lips, letting go of my hips once i nod my head, turning away from him to quickly check my appearance, surprised that i only have to smooth my hair, fingers threading through a few small knots.
“act casual. and get that stupid smirk off your face, i can’t believe you convinced me to do this.” i sigh, wiping the lipstick that had smudged onto my face, eyeing tom’s expression as all he can do is keep that same smug smile upon it, clearly not regretting any of it. my hand reaches for the door handle, about to tug it open, not before tom pulls me back, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“don’t be mad at me. i love you.” he pouts, pecking my lips a few times, his eyes soft as they look into mine, attempting to win me over, with some success much to his surprise. i shake my head, smiling warmly at him, mumbling a small ‘love you too’, before heading out of the door, making sure not to close it behind me, reminding myself that my parents think i have been outside.
i enter the dining room, my mom’s face lighting up once she sees me. “you feeling any better?” she asks, beckoning me back over to the table as i take my seat.
“much better. where’s tom?” i ask innocently, furrowing my eyebrows in forged confusion, determined to keep our acts a secret, acting as if he wasn’t inside me literally two minutes ago.
“he said he needed to use the bathroom. he should be back soon.” my mom replies, sipping from her glass afterwards, a wave of relief spreading over me as i realise that she is completely oblivious, as is my father, who finishes the food on his place absent-mindedly.
“a nice boy you’ve got yourself honey.” my mother says out of the blue, a genuine smile on her face. my eyebrows raise in surprise, her sudden approval unexpected, but the way my father nods his head in agreement throws me off completely; slightly suspicious of how fast they have warmed up to him, knowing my parents to be extremely standoffish.
“really?” my voice is uncertain, a small laugh leaving my mom’s lips at this.
“why so shocked?” she says, my eyes drifting towards the entrance to the dining room, seeing tom walk through it. he shoots me a quick wink, moving past me as my mother spots him, her face lighting up.
“tom! we were just talking about you!” she smiles, watching as he takes his seat, an intrigued look on his face as he ushers her to continue, giving my thigh a quick squeeze from under the table.
“i was just saying how much you suit her.” my mom begins, shooting me a quick grin, turning her attention back to tom. “i’m so happy she’s found someone like you tom. so polite and put together, i admire it, really. very unusual for boys your age. i’ve never met anyone as mature.”
i stifle a laugh at her words, looking downwards into my lap, finding her obliviousness amusing, wondering how she would react if she ever found out what had just happened, using such positive words to describe him, completely unaware of the fact that minutes ago, he had been the complete opposite of all of them. my eyes shoot upwards in his direction, seeing his lips curved into a smile, soaking in all of the positive attention, using it to fuel his ego, clearly proud of how he has managed to pull this whole thing off, winning over my parents in the process an added bonus.
༻❦༺
“thank you so much for having me. it was great to meet you.” tom repeats, smiling widely as we say our final goodbyes, my parents waving us off as they close the door, tom and i walking down the driveway, hand in hand.
“i can’t believe you won them over so easily. that’s literally never happened before. every time my sisters have brought a boyfriend over, they literally hated him. one time my dad made my sister break up with a guy, in front of everyone.” i laugh, never witnessing my parents be so fond of a guy before, not expecting them to welcome someone like tom with open arms, usually approving of boys who were nothing like him.
“told you i’d surprise you.” he grins, that infamous smug smirk tugging on his lips once again, his hand squeezing mine as he looks downwards at me. i can tell that he will be smug about this for a while, this night being something he will bring up for the rest of our relationship, soaking up his own pride. he pauses, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he opens the car door, climbing into it as i follow. “and, i love your parents house…
especially the bathroom.”
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requests are open! keep sending them in!!
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thewalkingthread · 7 months
Text
Space - D.D.
daryl's pov
pairing: daryl dixon x reader
summary: things aren't the same between you and daryl.
warnings: sad
a/n: Heard a devastating song on Tiktok and it inspired this little one shot
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You can't remember the last time Daryl held you while you slept. Or the last time he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.
Something shifted in your relationship around the time Michonne left. You chalked it up to him having more responsibility. Daryl's always put a lot of pressure on himself, but it was a lot worse this time around. With Michonne and Rick gone, the people have looked upon the two of your for guidance and leadership. Not to mention taking in RJ and Judith. There was a big shift in your life, but you didn't expect it to create a rift between you and Daryl.
Every night you would laid down on the bed, your body turned to it's side. Your hand always reached out and rested on the empty space that Daryl will occupy much later in the night. You never went to bed at the same time anymore. Typically, you'd go to bed first once the kids were asleep and the house was clean. Daryl would sit outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette or sharpening knives. No matter how tired he was, he'd do anything that make sure you were asleep first before he tiptoed into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Sometimes you'd pretend to be asleep, you've gotten really good at it.
You would lay completely still, keeping your breathes at a calm and slow pace. You'd listen carefully as he hummed to himself in the bathroom, the sound of his toothbrush tapping against the sink, his deep sighs as he examined himself in the mirror. You knew his routine all too well from the years you've been together.
Then he'd slowly sink into the bed, careful not to wake you. It wasn't a sweet gesture of him wanting you to rest and get good sleep. He didn't want to wake you because he didn't want to talk to you, he didn't want to argue.
Just like clock work, Daryl woke up extra early today. He slipped out of bed before the sun even peaked onto the horizon. The sound of the shower turning on woke you up. You couldn't stop yourself from scooting closer to his side of the bed, pulling his pillow close to you. You close your eyes, trying to imagine it was him you were holding. Your fingers grazed the sheets, hoping it would provide you any sort of resemblance of your lover. It didn't.
The sound of the bathroom door creaking, makes your freeze in your place. The soft pads of his footsteps approach the edge of the bed. You know he's right behind you, you know he's looking down at your "sleeping" body.
You feel his finger graze your skin and you do everything in your power to be still, not to flinch at his touch, not even twitch. Daryl gently moves a strand of hair out of your face. Your heart is racing inside of your chest and you think he might even press a kiss to your head.
All that he does is breathe out a deep sigh before retracting his hand. Your skin, where his calloused hands just were, now exposed to the cold air. His footsteps shift away before disappearing down the hall.
You let out a breathe you didn't realize you were holding and you opened your eyes. The sun just started it's ascent and the room was a soft yellow tint as the light snuck its way through the window.
You wanted to cry.
You wanted to scream.
How did you go from real love to roommates?
You wanted your lover back. You wanted your Daryl back.
You missed the nights when you and Daryl would stay up late talking. You'd sit on the porch, looking up at the stars in the sky. Neither one of you cared if you had to be up early for a watch shift or for a supply run. You'd stay up to talk and spend time with each other because that was the only time you'd be able to.
"Reckon this shit will ever end?"
You glanced up at him before looking back out at the dark sky. You shook your head.
"Don't think so." You mumbled. "But if it weren't for all this shit... I don't think we'd have met."
Daryl let out a grunt, with a small nod of his head. "I suppose that makes it all worth it." He mumbles, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "You make it all worth it."
You grip his pillow close to your chest, letting the tears slip from your eyes.
When did this bed get so wide?
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perrywrites · 6 months
Text
Asking them to choke you (flirting stage, haven’t slept together yet)
SFW (for the most… part…? Kinda NSFW?? But not really…?? Well PG13+ still for sure)
Includes; Yuta, Gojo, Nanamin
Yuta: “Yuta~ I want you to choke me…” His eyebrows raise right into his hairline, almost melding into his hair, eyes large and almost horrified. The way he’s sputtering, his throat constricting on itself, sounds almost like his own body is now strangling him at the sheer absurdity of your statement. He thought he was at least starting to get desensitised to the absolutely wild things that left your mouth, but somehow you manage to be increasingly unhinged each passing day. Like Maki once called you… A gift that never stops giving, except she definitely meant that very sarcastically. Somehow, he’s more sure you’re going to end up killing him (instead of a curse) with your absurd statements and those adorable mischievously gleaming eyes. “I-I… I don’t think… I can… do that,” he finally says, and he means this, for various reasons of course. The obvious playful reason being that it sounds like some sort of intimate fetish you’re into that he’s not very sure how to engage with. The less obvious, less fun to state reason being that his crippling fear of being the slightest bit rough with you would end up hurting you (or worse - killing you) and then he’d never be able to live with himself. So, choking you is absolutely out of the question. Then, you giggle, mumbling something about his reaction being adorable, and Yuta feels his heart constrict in his chest as the tips of his ears burn up. God, the things you do to his heart. You’re going to kill him. You love teasing him too much, and he can’t help but let you, when you’re so adorable… He’ll let you tease him for the rest of your lives as long as he’s the only one you’re teasing like this.
Gojo: laughs out loud, deadass. Oh, you want him to choke you? Those furrowed eyebrows of yours as you glare at him, seemingly offended, are too cute - oh you definitely weren’t expecting him to react like this, were you? It’s not like he’s not surprised, you see, but as much as it’s surprising, it’s just as funny, honestly speaking. So don’t blame him for laughing, huh sweetheart? “Don’t ask me for something like that if you’re not completely sure, hm?” Reaching his hand out to you, he ruffles your hair, messing it up as best as he could in a simple gesture, a lighter laugh bubbling up at your adorable squawk. As you’re trying your best to fix the mess he’s so benevolently set upon your head, he leans his head down to be at eye-level, smirking casually, eyes just the slightest bit hooded as he decides to tease you. “Because I might end up giving you exactly what you asked for.” His voice is low, a melodic whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way you shiver, the way your eyes widen - every twitch of your body as your mouth clamps shut and you look all too much a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As they say, be careful what you ask for - and especially so with Gojo Satoru. Plant an idea like that in his head, and you might not be prepared for the way it blooms.
Nanamin: he pauses, document still in his hand, and then sighs deeply, already feeling a headache beginning to clamp down on his scalp. Are you going to make him grab a second cup of coffee so soon in the day? What is with you and your random requests at the most random times of the day? He can see your cheeky little grin, you know? He’s not the kind of simpleton you can mess with, but it seems his now disappointed and exasperated expression (as usual…) still inspires you to snicker. “If that’s a kink of yours, then you need to learn to bring it up when it’s appropriate. Otherwise I’d advise you to start befriending the HR.” Does jujutsu even have HR? He should bring it up with Gojo, although the mere thought of suggesting that to him of all people sounds like an unbearable headache. Well, whatever, that should suffice for a half-hearted threat. Except, it doesn’t, and now you’re pouting, and babbling something about it not necessarily having to be a ‘sexual’ venture and more of a trust thing - and his eyebrow raises as he realizes you sound half-serious about the gibberish you’re spouting. “It’s a joke, much like the ones you constantly like to make,” he says, half-amused, although it’s not as visible on his stoic expression as it is in the dry uptilt in his voice. Seeing you pouting and huffing again, grumbling about his dry sarcasm, he can’t resist the extra statement. “... And well, I’ll keep in mind you like being… choked. We can discuss your asphyxiation kink later.” Your boggled wide-eyed look is amusing enough to sustain him without coffee through the whole afternoon.
P.S, Nanamin’s no-coffee for the afternoon streak is broken ever so lovingly through an encounter with a 6-foot tall cum-haired gremlin, Gojo 🫶🫶🫶
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Note
What about Kafka with a puppy like reader (like golden retriever type vibes)
Kafka with a golden retriever like reader
characters: Kafka x gn!reader
warnings: none
a/n: I have never written for Kafka *or* Honkai Star Rail before, so if I get some things wrong, then I’m sorry. There should be no spoilers here, but one or two minor ones might slip in by accident, so consider this a small warning.
Anyway, Kafka hot…
oh, and hope you enjoy!
Kafka
From all the Stellaron Hunters out there, you had to worry the least about being put on some sort of list. Afterall, when one was dealing with a group of criminals, the last description coming to anyone’s mind would be that of a human equivalent of a golden retriever. That being said, just because ordinary people wouldn’t connect you to your companions didn’t mean that nobody else would. Luckily for you and the others however, you were more than competent enough not to get caught while running errands every now and then.
Just as you handed the shopkeeper your money and were ready to leave, you felt a pair of eyes fixating on you, only for your eyes to glance over a guardsman glaring into your direction, the person next to him whispering something into his ear while doing his best to steal a glance at you from time to time. It seemed like your shopping trip would be coming to an end a little bit sooner than anticipated.
With one final goodbye to the person returning your change, you turned around and started walking away, your pace slowly picking up with every step, only to start sprinting the moment you heard the heavy footsteps of an armored guard just a few steps behind you, pushing your way through every shopkeeper in front of you. A part of you wanted to turn around and apologize for doing so, but seeing as you probably wouldn’t be shopping here again, you instead decided to simply shout your apologies without looking back.
As you finally reached the end of the dock, with nothing but endless nothingness greeting you when you looked over the edge, you turned around one last time before waving the guards goodbye and taking a step back, pressing the newly bought coat against your chest in fear you might accidentally let go of it, only to brace yourself for the inevitably hurtful impact of landing inside the shuttle… if there was one.
Just as your brain began considering that you may have done something that could only be described as not your brightest moment, the awaited impact occurred, and although significantly dampened by the mattress on which you landed, your back still hurt.
“Ever thought of what would happen if we weren’t here to catch you?”, Silverwolf's slightly annoyed voice rang out, the confirmation that you landed on the correct shuttle bringing a smile to your face before you quickly shook your head.
“Why should I? It’s not like such a thing would ever happen”, you answered before finally sitting up and quickly scanning the coat for any damages before proudly handing it to Kafka. “Here, I heard they were selling this here, so since we’re already here, I thought buying it for you might not be a bad idea.”
“Looks like the ad didn’t lie about it being high quality”, she said to herself while running her fingers across the fabric, putting it to the side before helping you up, a small smile making its way onto her lips. “Thanks, this spares me quite some time looking for someone willing to sell it to me. How about I give you a reward as thanks? Tell me what you want and you’ll get it”, she offered, only for you to quickly shake your head.
“You liking it is reward enough for me.” If rolling one’s eyes made a sound, Silverwolf alone would have been able to shatter glass, but when Kafka leaned in and gave you a kiss, the fellow Stellaron Hunter let out a disgruntled sigh.
“I’d love to watch you two continue with your cheesy couple stuff, but could you do it another time? Everyone on this giant ship wants us dead or at least in shackles”, she reminded you, causing Kafka to give her a halfhearted nod before putting a hand on your shoulder.
“Go and take some rest, you did enough today.” Just as the words left her mouth, you gave her an enthusiastic nod before walking off, the pain in your back completely overshadowed by your joy.
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cgogs · 4 months
Text
Oneshot #1 - Nothing / dsmp pjo au (c!dnf) 2k
this is a little bit of an experiment to see if i like writing this pjo dsmp au, and if people like reading it. its super short, but i wanted to get out a little bit of writing to see if i was into it. if i like it i'll start working on more :] so basically feedback is APPRECIATED
“You’re awake.”  “How could you tell?” “I can always tell. Idiot.”
“You’re awake.” 
Dream blinks. The bottom of the top bunk comes into focus in all its wooden glory. He’d been staring at a blur for the past half hour, desperately trying to stay awake. 
“Dream?”
Okay, that really is George talking, and not some sleep deprived delusion. George’s head peeks over the side of the bunk facing the window, moonlight eclipsed by his hair. He can barely see his features, but he knows exactly the look George is giving him. Something between judgmental and concerned. 
“How could you tell?” Dream whispers back. 
“I can always tell. Idiot.”
George likes to tease him for sleeping like a corpse, hands laced together over his stomach. Dream moves his hands to his sides before George gets the chance to mention it.
“D’you want me to do the thing?”
“No.” The last time he let George use his sleep magic, he had a nightmare worse than the ones he was running from in the first place.
“I’ve gotten better at it!” George promises, sounding a tad desperate. “Let me try.”
Some of their cabin mates begin to shuffle in their sleep. There’s a quiet, ‘shut up’ thrown their way, sounding a little bit like Tommy. Probably Tommy.
Dream lowers his voice further. “I’m going for a walk.”
There’s a pause. But it doesn’t seem like he hates the idea. “We’ll get in trouble.”
Dream sits up, swiveling his head around the room to see if anyone’s paying attention. From the back, he can see everyone sound asleep in their beds. When George was claimed, the Hermes cabin elected to put George in the very back corner of the room. The general sentiment seemed to be that they were afraid of George emanating some kind of sleep stink or something. George seemed sad being ostracized, which was understandable.
It was easy for Dream to swap with his new bunkmate, which delighted the boy. George had said he was only pulling long faces because he wasn’t able to bunk with his best friend anymore, which. Dream had no particular emotional reaction to. Please trust him on this.
(Later, Hypnos would claim more sons, and the Hermes cabin would get over it, and Dream will just have to seethe in silence.)
With the coast clear, he stands carefully.
“Mr. D is going to turn you into a tree.” George rolls to the other side of the bed to watch, glaring at him through the wood railing. 
“Come with me.” 
“What? I don’t want to get in trouble. Can’t you just lay back down?”
Dream holds out his hand, reaching up. “Just trust me.”
He’s aware that it isn’t exactly a convincing argument. George tentatively takes his hand, anyway. His hands are soft like they haven’t worked a day in their lives, which might be a little true. But they’re only kids, so time will tell.
George keeps hold of his hand even as he climbs down the ladder. It makes Dream sort of feel like, a knight or something.
“You’re, like, my princess.” Stupid thing to say. Whatever, he already said it, and George is already trying not to laugh so he doesn’t wake everyone up. He holds his breath through a snort, which makes a silly noise, which makes Dream struggle not to laugh as well. Domino effect of stupidity.
Dream tries to communicate with his hands that they could be careful of the creaks in the floor, which he’s previously memorized. George sleepily nods his head like he understands, still smiling dumbly, and immediately steps on one of the loose boards, letting out a very long and tedious creak. 
Okay, fine. If any of the kids in the cabin snitch, they’ll know they aren’t truly Hermes’ child, and the unclaimed ones can cross him off their list.
Outside, the air is warm and perfect, like it always is. Or should be, anyway. George’s hand is cold.
“Okay, so, where are we going?”
Dream points up to the roof, and George’s expression sours. 
“You didn’t say anything about climbing.”
“Well, I’m not gonna take you to the woods if you can’t be quiet.”
“Is that where you go? Won’t nymphs catch you?”
“We’re the babies, they think we’re cute. They just tell me to go back.”
“We’re twelve, not babies.”
“Yeah? Then get climbing.”
George stomps the ground petulantly, but doesn’t go back inside. Dream has to let go of his hand to show him how to climb up. The breeze sifts through his hair gently, the cool air clings to his skin. He’s made this climb a few times, not that it’s hard. But he can hear his friend groaning with every new foothold he has to take.
It’s a big cabin, it’s got to hold a lot of kids. He pities the kids who have to sleep in the top rungs, they have to climb up and down at least two ladders to get in and out of bed. Maybe the ones on top are, like, the strong half-bloods. Ares and Hephaestus and stuff.
Dream pulls himself up on top of the roof with ease. 
“Not so hard.” Dream gloats, smiling at George still struggling on the last edge. 
“Help?” George frowns pitifully, voice small and winded. He holds out his hand. “Please?”
Dream takes his hand and pulls him up. “I’ve gotcha.”
He wobbles a bit on his feet, but steadies. George is only in his pajamas, his own sacred artifact. Sometimes he’s seen him walking around camp in his pajama bottoms. There’s only two beads on his necklace, opposed to Dream’s six. He thinks he’ll have to turn his necklace into a bracelet and get a new one pretty soon. 
“I’m so tired.” George whispers, rubbing his eyes with force.
“You’re always so tired. Do you mean it this time?”
George moans grumpily. He’s standing like he’s waiting for Dream to tell him what to do. So he does. 
Dream takes his hand and guides him to lay down on one of the flat parts of the roof, above a protruding window. The wood is old and creaky, and tomorrow Sapnap (who sleeps at the top of Cabin 11, though Dream thinks it's pretty obvious who his godly parent is) will tell Dream to stop going up there in the middle of the night for what is probably the tenth time.
Together, they look at the night sky. There's few clouds, like always, and somehow all of the world’s constellations are clear. Like New York isn’t right next door.
That one is Andromeda, next to Cassiopeia. He learned that in class the other day. “Class” used loosely– they try hard to have stuff for kids to do around here. 
“Is this what you do?”
Dream looks at him. “Hm?”
“Like. When you leave your bunk you just come up here? When you don’t go to the woods.”
“Yeah. I like the silence.”
“Hm.”
There’s a long pause. Then, George asks another question, sounding even more sleepy than before. Something unnatural tugs at Dream’s eyelids when George comes near. 
“Did your nightmares come back?” His voice is quiet, so quiet, so not even the sky may hear. 
Dream didn’t want to say as much in front of so many people. Even if they were asleep. He nods. “Let me help.” George pokes his shoulder. 
“I’m scared!” Dream laughs quietly, “You did a terrible job last time.”
“Okay, whatever, I’ve been practicing.” George says, accent really peeking through. His mother is from Oxford, if he’s remembering correctly. Work visa. Not that Dream really understands what that means. He just understands George sounds very British, and it’s fun.
“Really? And who have you been practicing on.”
“Sam.” George seems rather proud of himself. “Sam, and it was good and I did good. So you should let me help.”
“Oh.” Dream really thought he’d catch him in a lie. “What does Sam even dream about?”
George rubs his eyes, moaning in thought. Which is a strange way to describe it, but that’s what George does. He rolls away, attempting to yawn away from him. He’s been trying not to yawn near people. It’s cute, but doesn’t make much of a difference. Dream yawns, despite his best efforts. George rolls back when he’s through. 
“Sheep.” Is all he says. He leans his head on Dream’s shoulder. “Let me help.” “Why are you so adamant?”
“Because it’s, like, the only thing I can even do. Everyone can like, make cool plants or be super smart. I just sleep.” George hesitates, but follows through. “And I like you. You’re my best friend.”
Dream’s heart swells, enough to melt his apprehension. Or, maybe it’s the desperation that comes with sleep deprivation. It occurs to him he never changed out of his jeans. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Do it.”
“You’re scared?” George looks up. His eyes are the kind of blue you see in the scariest parts of the ocean. The color of trenches that touch the center of the Earth. “Don’t be scared. You’ll wake up no matter what.”
“I wasn’t scared of that, but, I guess now I am?” It’s hard to keep eye contact. Something about the sleepy glaze of George’s eyes makes Dream’s soul want to give up. Whatever that means, he’s not sure.
“Sorry. It comforts me to think about.” George holds his arm gently. “You have to look at me. Remember?”
Truthfully, he didn’t. He doesn’t remember anything about how George lulled him to sleep. But he follows his instruction, and soon enough he can feel darkness creeping in all around him. It feels like having the biggest, heaviest quilt gently laid over him. It feels like getting dragged underwater. The sound of the wind in the trees melts into pure silence.
He’s vaguely aware of the sound of a yawn, his or George’s, he’s not sure. And then there was nothing at all.
For the first time in weeks, he doesn’t dream. No nightmares about green fire and the earth swallowing him whole. No death, no inevitable fates and failures he can’t avoid. Just, cold nothing.
He’s woken up by someone poking his cheek. He’s slow on the uptake, which is unlike him, but it’s so early in the morning some of the sleep lingers like a shroud. It’s a nymph. She’s not very happy. You can’t keep doing this. 
And when George is asleep, he’s really asleep. And using magic tuckers him out– he’s only just started trying to use it. There’s like, a meter he’ll have to level up. At least that’s what George said. 
Bottom line, he’s hard enough to wake up when he hasn’t exhausted himself. Dream is tasked with the impossible job of carrying George back down and into bed. 
It’s a good thing he weighs nothing. 
100 notes · View notes
hoodharlow · 26 days
Text
But I Still Fall Into You
AN: part 3 heheheh 😭 also the song used Oil & Water by PVRIS
Requested? No
Warnings: brief argument btwn Jack and Miriam thus Jack realizing he's a dumb bitch
Word Count: 3.4k words
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Jack hummed along to Whatcha Think About That from the Pussycat Dolls but he snapped out of it. He may or may not have spent an hour watching Miriam and a few of her teammates do their own rendition of the song on loop. People in the comments were impressed with how Miriam was able to morph her voice to fit any genre from Broadway to R&B-pop. Nicole Scherzinger herself even reposted the video. One comment in particular caught his attention: his younger brother's. Clay had the nerve to specifically @ Miriam and add one too many fire emojis (one). 
He didn't know how and when Clay and Miriam became friends. One day they just appeared in each other's comments, commenting inside jokes and emojis. Jack shouldn't care, but he did. He thought he had some sort of chance with Miriam since she didn't get back together with Shawn Mendes and she didn't block him off social media or his number. Did he reach out since? No, but he did write a song about her for his new album. 
His alarm went off letting him know it was time to go pick up Clay. Jack's album was dropping at midnight so he was having dinner with his team and a few friends to celebrate its release. When he arrived to his parents’ place and let himself in. 
“Hi, mom.” He said, hugging Maggie.
He patted his dad's shoulder. 
“Hey baby.” She said. 
“Where’s your demon spawn?” He asked. 
“Clay left a while back. He's having dinner with someone.” His dad said, not looking away from the tv.
“With who?” Jack frowned. 
“That pretty girl from your birthday party.” His mom said.
“You're both telling me that my younger brother is on a date with Miriam Dominguez-Miller?” He laughed in disbelief.
“No we said he was having dinner with her. There's a difference. They could be talking shop.” Brian said as a matter of fact. 
“What business do they have? Clay is a producer and Miriam plays soccer?” he paced around the living room.
“Baby, why are you so worked up?” “Let me get my blood pressure monitor.” His parents said simultaneously. 
“I'm fine.” Jack said. He sighed and pushed back his curls. “I just have pre-album release jitters. I want this album to do well. My last one was kinda a downer.” 
“It will do good. From what you showed us, it's some of your best work. We're so proud of you.” His mom said.
“Thanks for that.” He smiled softly. He looked at his watch. “I should get going.”
“Take care baby.” Maggie kissed his cheek.
Jack waved his parents goodbye and drove to the restaurant. He got there in no time. The hostess recognized him and ushered him to a semi-private room where everyone was waiting for him. He went around greeting the table. He finally took his seat at the head of the table with Urban sitting on one side and Larissa on the other. 
“There's something you should know.” Urban whispered. 
“What?” Jack looked at him confused.
A loud cackle erupted from the other side of the restaurant. Jack knew that laugh better than anyone. It was Miriam's. He glanced over to where the laugh came from and he spotted her and his brother in a booth. 
“You've got to be kidding me.” Jack muttered. 
“What'd you do to piss off Miriam?” Larissa asked. She took a sip of her wine and continued, “She's obviously getting back at you and using your brother.”
“What?” He frowned. 
“She said that the best way to get back at someone is to fuck someone they have beef with or their siblings because no matter how good the relationship there's still some sort of rivalry.” She shrugged. 
“Last time you said Miriam was with someone you were wrong. So why should we believe you this time?” Urban tilted his head, questioning her.
“I was wrong one time, sue me.” Larissa said defensively. 
“You weren't wrong one time. There's been several times and it's usually about a girl Jack is interested in. I think we should mind our business. �� He snapped.
“I'll be right back.” Jack said. 
He got up from the table and excused himself. He wiped the sweat off his hands and took a deep breath as he approached Miriam and Clay. They were so deep in their conversation that they didn't notice him. Jack cleared his throat. They both looked at him.
“Hey, man!” Clay smiled at his big brother.
Miriam didn't respond. She reached for a piece of bread and spread some butter on it. 
“I just came by to invite y'all to my table. We're celebrating my album dropping tonight.” Jack said, casually. 
“We're fine here.” Miriam said curtly.
“Well if you change–”
“Not to be rude, but we were discussing a private matter and I'd appreciate it if you gave us privacy.” she cut him off in a snippy tone. 
“If you wanted privacy I doubt a restaurant is the ideal place for that.” Jack said in the same tone as her.
“Jack,” Clay gave him a warning look.
Jack noticed the few people watching them so he collected himself. “I was just being courteous. I'll see you later Clay.” 
“I'll text you.” His younger brother nodded.
Jack gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder and he went back to his table. The entire dinner he spent it shooting daggers at Miriam. He's never lost his composure like that, especially in a public setting. 
A server came by to drop off the check at Miriam and Clay's table. Miriam put her hand up and took the check. She slipped a few bills and got up. Clay followed suit. They hugged and Miriam left while Clay went over to Jack's table. 
“How was your date?” Larissa was the first to speak when he took a seat by Urban.
“It wasn't a date. We had a work dinner.” Clay said in a snappy tone. He was not a fan of Larissa. 
“Work dinner?” Jack asked. 
“Yeah, I can't talk too much about it.” He shrugged. 
“Right, I'm going to get some air.” He excused himself. 
Jack followed after Miriam. She was leaning against her car typing on her phone. 
“You have some nerve.” He said going up to her.
“Excuse me? I know you're not talking to me.” Miriam frowned. 
“Of course I'm talking to you. Who else is using my brother to get back at me.” He snapped at her.
Miriam laughed. “I hate to break it to you but the world doesn't revolve around you.” She said in a Southern accent before switching to her normal voice. “Clay was doing some stuff for me.” 
“So what you're paying him to fu–” 
“Choose your fucking words. I haven't done shit to you for you to be so fucking rude and disrespectful. Since you so fucking desperately need to know, I hired him to help me produce a song. I invited him to dinner as a thank you because we finally finished it.”
“Right,” Jack laughed. “Because this isn't some ruse to get back at me for what happened in New York.” 
“You caught me.” She said her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I'm using your brother because you made me feel like shit by saying that us hooking up was a mistake and you gave me the cold shoulder in front of your best friends. I'm using your brother because you didn't talk my ear off at last year's Met Gala gushing about how talented your brother was and how fucking excited you were to have him in your album. You got me. Everything I've done since that night is to seek revenge on you, not because I'm bored out of my mind in this godforsaken town and wanted to turn my poems that I've been working on for years into music.” 
Guilt crept into Jack's body. He let his emotions get the best of him. 
“Miriam, wait–”
“Save it.” She shook her head. “You're clearly not who I thought you were so I apologize for thinking highly of you. Congrats on your album by the way. Clay wouldn't stop talking about it and how proud he was of you. Obviously you don't think the same when it comes to his work ethic.” 
•••
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@'jackharlow: Jackman. My new album. Out now everywhere
@'urbanwyatt: THAT'S RIGHT
@'nicolesherzinger: making Kentucky proud
@'spotify: we need Jackman
@'dbook: icon
@'jackhater: another 2.9 album
@'messyjackfan: y'all heard Blame on Me? It's so shady. That explains why we rarely Clay and Jack together anymore.
-> @'jackstan: did you? If that's what you got from the song? Then you missed the point
View all messages
•••
@'mdm: what I do in my spare time here in Kentucky.
OIL & WATER produced by @'claybornharlow out now <3
@'saintclauds: BIIIIITCH
@'katdominguez: okay stop showing off
-> @'josephdominguez: fr, we agreed that we can only have one talent. Kat is the model, I'm the actor, and you're the soccer player @'mdm. You can't be the singer too
-> @'mdm: so about that acting thing....
@'oliviarodrigo: omg love this
@'dione-cé: and that's on song of the day-yyay-ay
@'zendaya: obsessed 😍
@'teddygeiger: glad you were able to make something incredible with the basic beats
@'claybornharlow: let's fucking GOOOO
-> @'jackfan: not you being more excited that some nepo baby releasing bad music over your brother's album
-> @'jackstan: you dumb bitch he produced the song. Of fucking course he's excited
@'popgirliefan: I hate when nepo babies think they can just drop shit and take jobs from actual singers 😒
@'mdmsoccerfan: in her Snoop Dogg with the side quest era
@'miriamhater: hate that I like this
View all comments
•••
“I'm a fucking idiot.” Jack announced to Urban and Clay.
“You don't have to announce something we all know.” His younger brother commented.
Urban shrugged in agreement. 
Jack rolled his eyes and showed them spotify on his phone. He'd been listening to Miriam's song for the last few hours (since midnight when it dropped) and the full meaning of the song just hit him. 
“What about the song I produced?” Clay asked in a defensive tone.
“One, it's good. Good job. And two, I'm a fucking idiot and it's like I'm purposely cockblocking myself and…” Jack trailed off, trying to word out his interpretation. 
“Don't overthink it, we get it. You're a dumb bitch that jumps to conclusions and pushes away the total package that Miriam is.” Urban chuckled.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Clay asked.
“Nothing? I don't know. She was pretty adamant in avoiding me and mmd ignoring me if she can't avoid me.” Jack said. 
A few days after their parking lot argument they ran into each other at the Tommy Hilfiger headquarters for their Met Gala fittings. Tommy's meeting with Miriam took long to he just merged their fittings together since Jack was going with a simple suede suit. Miriam went with something more couture that was on theme but threw shade at the late Karl Lagerfeld for how he acted with het mom. Tommy tried making conversation between the three of them but Miriam was more focused on her clothes. Then when the actual Met Gala came, they were supposed to be seated in the same table, but she sat elsewhere. Later on their flight back to Louisville she was in the same pod as him in first class but she was in her own world going over game tapes and taking notes. 
“Are you fucking stupid? Did you not hear the lyrics? ‘I wouldn't do this for anyone but you.’ Who the fuck do you think is ‘you’? You, you fucking genius.” his brother smacked the back of his neck. 
“Don't fucking hit me.” He tried hitting him back but missed. 
“Hit me and I'll make sure Miriam doesn't speak a word to you.” Clay warned him.
A text came through from his managers that they better be downstairs. They were going to a Derby gala in celebration of Jack's foundation. After the races he spent a few hours going through what was happening in the Gala with his mom (the first hour was the cocktail/ mingle hour, followed by a four course dinner, and the speeches at the end). Once everything was set, Jack went home to nap to be refreshed for the long night ahead of him. 
When Jack, Clay, and Urban arrived at the venue they went through the red carpet with the rest of PG. As Jack did a quick interview for the local news, he spotted Miriam talking to his mom. Miriam looked beautiful as always. She wore a short cocktail dress that made her muscular legs look long. She laughed at something his mom said and she nervously brushed down her bangs. 
Jack finished and tried to go up to his mom and Miriam but he was whisked away to mingle. 
He spent half an hour shaking hands with every and any affluent person from Kentucky. His mouth and hand began to feel tired from all the smiling and hand shaking. But he finished and was able to mingle. Jack made a quick stop to the section where his friends were to get a drink. He grabbed a can of Phocus and scanned the place for Miriam. He found her talking to Jeremiah Morris, a player at Louisville FC from London. They talked like life long friends, whispering and giggling amongst each other. 
“That was fast. Wasn't she just with your brother?” Larissa asked him, joining him on the balcony.
“Riss, you know Jeremiah is gay, right?” Jack responded in an irritated tone.
When Jeremiah first moved to Louisville a lot of soccer fans weren't accepting of him because of sexuality. Jack made a post on his Instagram Stories, supporting him and welcoming him to Louisville. 
He sighed, “Just because two people of the opposite sex are talking it doesn't mean that they're fucking.” 
“I know.” She said, taken aback.
“Okay because you always seem to assume when it comes to Miriam.” he snapped.
“Well sorry for looking out for you.” She scoffed before walking away. 
Jack finished the last of his Phocus and decided to go up to Miriam and Jeremiah. Miriam stood awkwardly as Jack and Jeremiah greeted each other. 
“I’mma go find my man, but we have to catch up sometime, Mimi.” Jeremiah said, leaning in to kiss Miriam's cheek. He nodded his head at Jack. “It was nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Jack smiled. 
“You heard him, he has a man. I'm not fucking him.” Miriam said as she took a step back. 
Jack caught her arm and pulled her back. “Look, I wanted to apologize. From–” 
“This isn't the time or place.” She said.
“I'm aware but–” 
His manager approached them. “Jack, they need you on the stage.” 
“Can you give me a sec?” He told her. 
“Go, we'll talk later.” Miriam said, sipping her champagne flute. 
Jack nodded and followed his manager. He went to the stage and told people that the cocktail hour was over and they needed to make their way to the dining hall for dinner. 
Jack spent the entire dinner going around checking things were going smoothly. When it was time for the speeches he was shoveling food because he didn't get a chance to eat during the dinner. He sat behind the DJ booth listening to his mom talk and give shout outs to those that went above and beyond. 
“Earlier in the evening our news Miriam Dominguez-Miller came by to drop off a generous donation from her parents.” Maggie began. “Their donation of ten million dollars is going towards the theater-ballet programs and the children's after school sports teams.”
The whole room erupted in applause. That was when Jack noticed Miriam didn't go up, nor that she was in the room. He looked to his mom and she put the small certificate she made with Miriam's name face down and went to the next person. 
“Where's Miriam?” Jack asked Clay when he saw him walk past him.
“She was just dropping off the check her parents made. Said she was tired from her game and went home.” shrugged Clay.
A few speeches later, the gala ended. The guest went to another reception hall for the ‘after party’. Jack hung out with his friends for a half an hour. He checked the time and it was ten at night. He texted Miriam if she was willing to meet with him tomorrow so they could talk. She responded a minute later that she was going to be busy tomorrow but he could stop by right now. Jack replied back with a saluting emoji and pocketed his phone. 
“Hey, I'm going to head out.” he told his mom. “Do you have Miriam's certificate thing on you?” 
“Why?” She frowned. Clay had vaguely filled her in on the nonsense her oldest pulled on Miriam and was quite pissed that he was acting like that because she didn't raise him to talk and treat people like that. 
“I want to give it to her.” He said.
“Jackman, I swear if you upset that poor girl one more time.” She warned him as she handed him the paper award.
“Um, rude.” He said defensively.
“I don't know all the details but that behavior you didn't learn from me. I raised you better than to disrespect women.” She said sternly.
“I know and I'm gonna try to salvage this.” 
“Alright, be good.” 
Jack hugged her and texted the group that he was leaving. He had texted his driver and they pulled up to the front of the venue. He got in and put in the address of Miriam's apartment building. He texted her that he was on his way to her place. She replied back that she added him to ‘the list’ and he just needed to verify with the doorman. He arrived at the apartment building and showed his ID to the doorman when he went inside. 
The doorman guided Jack to a private elevator and pressed the sole button for Jack. The elevator went to the tenth floor. In the hallway there was one door at the end. Jack figured it was Miriam's place so he knocked. 
Miriam opened the door, “Hi.” She said, leaning against the door revealing a new look: a white-beater with vintage style denim shorts and UGG slippers. 
“Hey, my mom wanted me to give you this.” he said, handing her the award.
“Thanks… is that all?” She asked. 
“No, I,” Jack cleared his throat. “Can I come in so we can talk?” 
“Yeah,” she nodded, opening the door more for him.
Miriam shut it and locked it. She looked at herself in the small mirror by the entrance and tried to smooth out her bangs. Which she got after her argument with Jack at the restaurant. They came out uneven but she was luckily going to New York where her hairdresser worked and they fixed them for her. But when she sweated they got a mind of their own and were hard to tame. 
“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, your brother gave me a few boxes of PHOCUS so I have that too.” She said. 
“I'm good, thank you.” He said.
Miriam led him to her bisexual velvet green couch. She took off her slipper and pulled her knees to her chest. It was taking a lot for her to not jump him. Men in non-basic black suits were one of her greatest weaknesses. Even more when it was properly tailored. 
“That night in New York, I didn't mean to say you were a mistake. What I really wanted to say was that I don't want to have sex with you knowing my best friend was on the other side of the door. My mouth was faster than my brain and I apologize for that. I'm also sorry for how I acted around you at the game. It was childish and petty for no reason.” He paused, wiping sweat from his hands. “My outburst last week in the parking lot was also out of line and fucked up. I'm sorry for interrupting your work dinner with Clay and basically dismissing your work.” 
“What I don't get is how you came up with those conclusions about me. That's what hurt the most. I get, maybe with Shawn you would assume because we got papped and stuff but with your brother?” Her voice cracked. Miriam wiped a few stray tears. “I just thought we were on the same page. I put it all out there on how I feel about you. Then I'm hit with a wall that you put up and it feels like there's someone or something next to you that's making you doubt what I feel about you.” 
Jack stayed quiet. He wasn't sure if he should tell Miriam about how Larissa was the one adding fuel to things and unintentionally causing a rift between him and Miriam. Larissa was Miriam's friend, she wouldn't intentionally hurt Miriam. He didn't want to think about Larissa so he gave her a vague answer. 
“I let my own insecurities get the best of me. In my head I was constantly thinking how you're fucking Miriam Dominguez-Miller. Obviously you wouldn't be interested in someone like me. I'm sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve any of that.” He said. 
“Thank you. I appreciate you being honest and vulnerable with me. You didn't have to come all this way and give me your perspective but you did and that says a lot.” Miriam smiled softly.
“I'm glad we're able to resolve this and continue to be friends.” Jack patted her knee. 
“Friends…” She said. 
Jack saw the time on the clock Miriam had hanging. “I should get going, it's pretty late.”
“I'll walk you out.” She pushed herself up from the couch.
“It's fine.” He waved her off. 
“Text when you get home.” 
Jack kissed her cheek and left. Miriam screamed into her pillow. She couldn't believe that after admitting she liked him, Jack still had the nerve to friendzone her. It for the best, she thought to herself. They went through a lot of unnecessary grievances. Despite how much she liked him, Miriam knew it's better if they stay friends.  
66 notes · View notes
temmtamm · 1 year
Text
'Best Friend.'
(Yan! Secret History Tails x Reader)
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Note: Been obsessing over this little fucker so decided to write this down for fun. If you enjoy this, feel free to blow up my ask box as I would gladly write more for this stinkalink.
Word count: 4,593
Tw: Death, violence, worship, threats, attempted murder, and yandere behavior
(Y/N) never wanted to get wrapped up into all this, all they really wanted to do was just help an acquaintance in need, they never planned or even thought that the action could have any consequences, much less ones to this severity. Even now, with slick scarlet staining at their hands, they still are in shock, thinking it all must've been some crazy type of dream, but they knew better.
The night this all started was just like any other for (Y/N).
The morbian had just gotten off of their shift, with sore feet and a strained brain from hours and hours of work, their only thought was about returning to the comfort of their home for some much needed dinner and rest.
Their body was practically in autopilot, following the familiar trails of the sunset forest zone. Even with a lack of thoughts or cares, they still took the time to take the slightly shorter way through, cutting through the trees and actual forest part of the zone to avoid the obstacles that the land had, making it hard for anyone to really get anywhere without it being like a parkour course.
Of course people like Sonic, Knuckles and any other of his friends might've had no problems with doing a course like that in under 5 minutes and continuing with their day, but (Y/N) wasn't like any of them, they were painfully boring and on the weaker side of things unlike the colorful cast of heroes that they had grown to be acquinted with. So, for people like (Y/N), they took the shortcut.
(Y/N) trudged through the forest, gently swatting away any leave or tree branches in their way as they did so. The setting sun's golden rays warmed their body to the touch, making a relaxing, lulling feeling overtake the morbian, allowing for them to wash away the stresses and worries of the day.
They felt completely and utterly safe right there on the path, not worrying about anything, not having to worry if another villain appeared along their way, and not having to worry about the creepy customers at their work who made it their goal to make them as uncomfortable as possible and then leave a shitty tip.
It was nice to have no cares, being able to just enjoy yourself in a comfortable silence. Though, that didn't last long--Well, at least not the silence part of things. Just before reaching a clearing of sorts, (Y/N) heard some subtly shoveling noises coming from ahead, followed by muffled cursing. They couldn’t understand most of it, but they were able to make out the whisperings for "Imposter." and "Dirty cretin's."
Taking notice to the hostility in the raspy tone that they head, (Y/N) immediately halted all movements and stayed deathly quiet, trying to make out where the sound came from so they could avoid that area or find a way around it without running into any possible dangers.
Sure, they could've ran in trying to find out whatever this hostile person was and see what they were up to and if it were actually dangerous but (Y/N) did not want to stick their nose into any strangers business. Especially when that stranger is in the woods alone with them. That sounds like the start to a bad horror movie they did NOT want to be a part of.
The sounds seemed to be coming from straight in front of (Y/N), causing some difficulties for any escape plans. If they just moved far to one of the sides, the person or morbian behind the sounds would easily be able to see them, thanks to the fewer amount of trees near the clearing.
So, (Y/N) quickly crouched down and crept toward the direction the noise came from, carefully listening in on the voice as well as trying to peek at who or what was there to be able to plan out an escape route. However, they could hear only faint whispers and hushed curses. As they approached closer, the earth decided to give them a cruel reminder of their surroundings.
'SNAP'
They took a step further than they should've, and suddenly the noise of a twig snapping under their foot hit not only their ears but mostly likely the figure they we're spying on as well. The murmurings and shoveling noises came to an abrupt stop, confirming (Y/N)'s fears that the person had heard it.
Fuck.
In one swift movement, (Y/N) pushed themselves up from their crouched position, darting to the left to at least try to hide in the few of trees they did have while evading the thing that had made all those noises. They weren't sticking around for even a second longer to figure out what the hell would happen to the. They had a better chance of surviving by running instead dog staying put like a deer in headlights.
The sound of something heavy hitting the floor was not lost on them, and neither was the pitter patter of feet chasing after them. The calming feeling they previously held in their chest when strolling quickly turned to adrenaline and fear.
This person had to be bad news, they wouldn't have been chasing (Y/N) unless they had something (Y/N) wasn't supposed to see.
The exhaustion that previously consumed (Y/N) and alertness took it's place. (Y/N) pushed against the wind, running as fast as they could, to the point where the fear of their leg muscles tearing was an actual thought that crossed their mind. Their breathing became erratic, both due to the energy they were using up as well as from fear. Despite their attempts to avoid any other branches or other parts of the natural environment that could slow them down, mid-steo their ankle had snagged onto one of the trunk roots belonging to one of the few trees around, sending (Y/N) toppling to the ground.
With the force and momentum, their fall knocked the air out of the lungs. (Y/N) yelled out, cursing out as a sharp pain was spent through their knee, making their cab quickly cramp up. They tried twisting their body to force themselves back up but before they even could, a hand grabbed at their shoulder, making the morbian flinch and their blood run cold.
But the touch was...oddly gentle??
"Ohmigosh!! Are you okay? What are you doing out here?" A familiar voice fell on (Y/N)'s ears, a stark contrast from the shrill yet raspy voice that they heard from the harsh whispering earlier. (Y/N) whipped their head around, turning to come face to face with a familiar two tailed acquaintance.
"Tails?! What are 𝘺𝘰𝘶 doing out here??" Despite (Y/N)'s confusion, the morbian couldn't help but feel relieved at the familiar face. At least there was a hero here now, no one would dare try to chase after them if Tails was by their side. There was a high chance people wouldn't question their disappearance--But tails?? Tails was a part of Sonic's crew, people would definitely be worried if he left.
"I was just..Making sure Robotnik hadn't set off any traps here for Sonic. What are you doing here..??" He questioned with a tilt of his head, a curious look taking over his features. He moved his hand away, allowing (Y/N) to sit up which gave the Morbian a chance to inspect their own leg. (Y/N) took notice to how his lips parted at the end of his sentence, as if he was about to use their name but had forgotten or hadn't known it. They were hurt, but they couldn't really blame the two tailed fox.
The two had never really hung out alone before so there's no surprise he wouldn't remember them that well. "I was just going home from work when I heard something. Before I know it, I'm being chased off and now this." (Y/N) explained, gesturing to their leg as they did so. Tails' eyes followed where (Y/N) was gesturing, taking notice to the leg.
"Oh, geez. Can you move it??" Tails asked, a hand reaching out to inspect the leg and stretch it out to see if that could help. He placed his paw on the leg, his eyes held no emotion, despite how his face made an effort to contort in concern. He did some simple stretches on the leg, but it only took a few minutes for a noise of pain to escape (Y/N)'s lips, alerting the fox friend to the fact that it was most likely too painful to walk on.
"I'm no doctor, but I think you might have a sprain. I don't think you can walk with it."
He looked at (Y/N). "Do you need me to carry you?" Tails asked, offering them a soft smile. "I may not remember where your house is, but if you tell me I'm sure I can take you there."
(Y/N) considered it for a few moments, their brows knitting together as they did so. They didn't want to cause him any trouble by asking him to do such a thing but with the throbbing pain in their leg, they doubted they could limp all the way back to their home. So with a nod of their head they agreed on Tails's offer. "If..if you can, please." They answered quietly, a tired and exhausted expression taking its place on their face.
The two tailed friend grinned at this before adjusting where he was so he could easily scoop (Y/N) up. Once in position, the fox picked up the morbian with little to no struggle. The morbian fox quickly draped (Y/N)'s body around his shoulder, carrying them firefighter style similar to how someone would carry a dead body or unconscious one.
"Jeez...I uh...I don't remember you being this strong, Tails." A nervous laugh escaped (Y/N)s throat, their hands latching onto any of Tails to make sure that the furry fox wouldn't drop them.
"Well, Sonic isn't the only one whos been pummeling Badniks." Tails chirped out, to which (Y/N) made a noise of understanding, eyes still cautiously watching the ground to make sure that they wouldn't slip and land face first into it.
With (Y/N) now draped over his shoulder, Tails took off into the direction towards (Y/N)'s home--Of course, after the Morbian had told him the coordinates.
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"Thanks again, Tails. You really came at the perfect time." (Y/N) grunted, their bed bending when the two-tailed fox placed them down on it. Tails gave a small nod, his tail slowly swishing behind him as his hands hovered over (Y/N)'s figure for minutes longer, ready to grab at them in case they would fall back or the like. "It's no sweat off my back--After all, What are friends for??" Tails smiled widely, flashing the other with a cheeky grin.
(Y/N) laughed lightly at that, their mouth twitch upwards. "Friends?? Didn't know you considered me one. I'm honored, Tails." Tails rubbed the back of his neck nervously, though it didn't feel entirely organic, more so that he planned for the action, deciding what would look the best.
"Whoops, must've just slipped out, huh?"
(Y/N) hummed in response, their expression taking on a slightly troubled one after the warmth of the interaction rubbed off.
"Hey...Tails?" (Y/N) questioned, unsure in their words of they should say it.
Tails raised his head once more, his ears perking up and twitching at the sound of his name. "Hm? What's wrong??"
(Y/N) paused for a moment, before opening their mouth to speak.
"Do you mind if you stick around for a few minutes?? You don't have to stay the rest of the day or anything, I'm just a bit worried that...something had followed me from the woods."
Tails furrowed his eyebrows at this, his eye even seeming as though it we're twitching from annoyance, but the expression only lasted a split second and was barely registered by (Y/N) before it returned to the kind smile the fox always had. "You're right, of course. It won't bother me at all!! I'll stick by the front door to make sure no one comes by and so I can see if anything goes on."
(Y/N) flashed the short fox a grateful grin, words being incapable of expressing their gratitude towards his act of kindness. "Thank you so so much, I really appreciate it, tails."
Tails waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, it's no biggie!! Just worry about getting some rest for your leg, okay?? Once your safe and asleep, I'll just slip on out." Tails didn't wait much for a response, quickly taking his leave with a flick of his tails, leaving the morbian alone in their room, confused but still grateful nonetheless.
Once away from the morbian, Tails released a sigh, one of annoyance as he quickly dropped the kindhearted smile he kept plastered on his lips the entire time he was around that..that...𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨!!
Who were they anyways?? His universe never had anyone like that, and neither did any of the other universes with the other fake 'Sonic's. It was always him and Sonic, occasionally Amy, and Knuckles as well but there was never someone of (Y/N)'s caliber--Much less one that seemed to be acquainted with Sonic and the imposter of himself.
It was disgusting. Why was this universe any different?? How could it be? It was never different. It always always the same, it was supposed to be the same. He doesn't like change, but he especially didn't favor this change.
The two tailed fox strolled down the halls, his eyes flickering from wall to wall with disgust evident in his gaze. What was so special about this person that Sonic would be wasting his time on them?? The only person he should be wasting his time on was him--His best friend.
Tails paused, his eyes falling towards a table just barely in his line of sight from the gap that lead from the halls to the living room then the kitchen. Curious, he made his way over to it, though most of his intentions was just to get to the kitchen, to grab a knife and finish the job to leave no witnesses.
On top of the table were some documents, just the usual rent and bills and things of the nature. He grabbed for the documents, bringing it closer to his face and squinting to try and read the finer details and possibly attach a name to his victim.
"(Y/N)...(L/N)..??" His voice muttered, dropping the whole impression of this universe's Tails to instead speak in his usual shrill and raspy tone.
It wasn't a...bad name. Not bad at all actually. Kinda had a nice ring to it.
He shook his head, clearing it of its thoughts before he tore his eyes away from the work, letting it fall on the walls instead--Or more specifically, the pictures on the walls. There were many photos of (Y/N) and family members but they weren't the ones that caught his attention.
The one that did was one of (Y/N) who appeared to be just a few years younger, their hair dawning on a slightly different style and they were grinning like an idiot with Sonic right next to them, taking the picture. It must've been the first time the two had met, (Y/N) looked as though they had just met a celebrity or something so it was a possibility.
Sonic looked so right in that image, almost reminding Tails of the Sonic he thought was the real one, the one from his universe.
Maybe this universe actually 𝘥𝘪𝘥 have the real Sonic, His Sonic. He might actually find him this time.
...
...
Maybe (Y/N) was the reason for that?? They WERE the difference that separated this universe from the many, many others with many, many imposters of Sonic that tried to deceive him.
That's how it all started.
After that, Tails had successfully replaced his 'imposter' and nobody were none the wiser. Sonic and Amy noticed that he seemed off at first and was able to get them off his trail. Amy even started to grow vulnerable enough to open up about her crush on Sonic and how to win him over.
Perfect.
That wouldn't be the last time he saw (Y/N), however. The day after, (Y/N) had showed up at his lab with a noticeable limp, having made him some food as a thanks for him helping their leg out. Tails--Although a bit begrudgingly, ended up helping the morbian out, making sure that they were able to walk around by making them a cane for temporary use until their leg healed up.
The plan originally was to get (Y/N) out of the picture, either by executing them in a similar style to how he did with Shadow and Knuckles sor through other means.
But when he finally had the opportunity to do such a thing by them complaining about how their phone was bugging out, he...didn't. He offered to help and had a chance to turn it into an explosive as he had done with Knuckles but he couldn't. All he did was fixed up the bugs as well as add some much needed upgrades before giving it back to the morbian.
He swore he never saw Amy or Sonic's eyes light up like how theirs did whenever he did similar favors for them.
He found himself spending hours and hours reasoning his behavior with himself.
Of course he couldn't kill them, they were the reason he was with his Sonic!! If he killed them, the universe would be just as interchangeable with all the others, than that wouldn't make his Sonic special.
The two grew a bond rather quickly. (Y/N) usually came over to check out any little projects or gadgets Tails was working on and Tails would let them rant about their day.
Tails hadn't wanted to admit it, and actively pushed it away but this feeling kept returning to him, one too familiar for him to deny much longer.
He liked (Y/N), didn't he?? The feeling was definitely similar to the ones he felt for Sonic, yet they weren't as well. They could both rival his deadly obsession with the blue blue yet also surpass it.
Before anyone knew it, Green Hill had two people that Tails was always hovering over.
Tails started making more and more trips out of his lab, skipping out on projects or time he usually spent twisting and toying with Any's emotions for Sonic in favor of just always being around (Y/N).
He 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to know what (Y/N) was doing 24/7. That's why he always kept tabs on them. If they went anywhere, if they left their house, if they were eating at lunch, if they did anything else, anything to indicate that they weren't alone in their home at all times, Tails would immediately know.
So, when one day you had gotten more dressed up than usual and made your way to Angel Island to meet up with a certain red echidna, he was the first to know and He. Was. 𝘗𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥.
For the first time ever since he got there, he refused to hang out with Sonic. He stopped hovering around the blue blur, instead almost immediately making a B-line for Angel Island. He offered little to no explanation for the hedgehog, though Sonic was grateful nonetheless for finally being able to be left alone.
Once catching the familiar glimpse of (H/C) and Red, the fox was quick to duck behind some of the islands nature, using that as a way to obscure his figure as he took in the scene in front of him.
(Y/N) was sat comfortably on the ground, legs crossed and leaning against the stand where both Knuckles and the master emerald were perched upon.
The two were talking about nothing and everything, (Y/N) chatted away meanwhile Knuckles watched the morbian, paying attention to every single word as if they were speaking of the world's secrets.
Knuckles and (Y/N)'s conversation was audible to the fox, though all the two titled fiend could really hear was white noise. Disgust and bile built in the back of his throat at the sight. His disgust soon bubbled into pure unadulterated rage when he saw the red echidna reach over to the morbian and grab for their hand, holding it as if it were the most casual thing in the world. Who did he think he was to even touch (Y/N) so casually?? He was a nobody. You could replace this Knuckles with any other from any other universe and no one would be able to tell the difference.
He was nothing compared to Sonic--Compared to (Y/N).
Before the canine even really registered it, he had sprung out from his hiding spot, almost leaping onto the echidna in an attempt to wrestle the morbian away from (Y/N). It was a foolish thing to act off of his emotions, cause even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins he was still lanky and held absolutely nothing against Knuckles in combat.
In an instant, he had been pinned down, the red echidna holding down both wrists above his head.
"What the fuck are you doing?! What the hell, Tails?!" The echidna exclaimed, his rage possibling rivaling Tails'.
(Y/N) jumped back, their face contorting at the sight before them. They stayed deathly still, unsure if they should do anything in the moment as Knuckles seemed to have it under control.
"Get off of me, you filthy vermin!!" Tails hands futily reached up, clawing at the air near Knuckles face, but never managing to get close enough. "I'll claw your eyes out, imposter!!"
"Tails!!" The fox cringed at the sound of (Y/N)'s voices he almost forgot they were there in his rage. "What the hell has gotten into you??"
"This imbecile thinks it's alright to touch YOU like that! To be with YOU like THAT!?!" Tails yelled, not caring about how loud he sounded. Knuckles seemed to get angry at this, his grip on Tails tightening as his teeth grinded together. "He's an imposter, A fake!! He's not even good enough to matter!! He's no one in a million!! He's no Sonic!! He's not your best friend!" Tails writhed and swatted at Knuckles, attempting to somehow get the echidna off of him.
He was lucky enough to get a good kick to the groin, making Knuckles stumble back with a pained hiss. He looked ready to fight Tails, but a the yellow furred fox was quicker to action, grabbing for the closest thing near him which just so happened to be a rock.
Tails pounced back onto Knuckles, lifting the rock high before striking it down against his skull.
"Imposter!!"
Again.
"Cretin!!"
And again.
"Friend thief!!"
Hands wrapped around his neck, using it to yank him away from Knuckles before he could strike again, though the effects were already done.
Gurgling noises escaped what remained of Knuckles skull before his body went limp, the remaining fight that it contained draining away along with his life.
"Tails...What the fuck did you do?! Do you know what you had just done??" (Y/N)'s voice cracked, so much emotion being continued behind their words. They had just watched their friends life drained before their eyes. Not only that, but it was by the person they trusted, the one they thought were their hero, their friend.
"He was replaceable!! They all are! I can get you a new one in the snap of an eye--One that knows to keep its FILTHY hands away!!" This wasn't the voice they recognized. This wasn't the one that belonged to their Tails. The love and care that was once held in his tone was now filled with hate and lunacy.
"You....You're a fucking freak!!" (Y/N) cried out, their hands that were once grabbing onto the Fox's neck and shoulders now pushing him back, letting him collide on the harsh concrete of the Master Emeralds stand.
(Y/N) didn't know what was goingon in their brain, they almost blacked out from the rage but they do recall their body moving on their own. They kicked and stomped at the two tailed fox, making sure he'd stay down.
Tails didn't fight back. Unlike with Knuckles, he actually seemed to revel in this pain. A sickening, deafening cackle left his body, almost involuntarily. Every kick and stomp only seemed to fuel this giggle fit of his. He was clearly enjoying himself, watching with a wide smile as his eyes stayed locked into (Y/N)'s.
(Y/N) wanted to stomp his head in, to massacre his body like he did Knuckles, but they couldn't. They weren't as heartless as this Tails and they certainly weren't as vicious.
A whimper involuntarily escaped their lips as tears started to prick in the eyes. They felt betrayed, they were used. Their leg froze mid air, just hovering over Tails though they couldn't slam it back down on his form even if they wanted to. They wanted to go back to a couple minutes ago, where they were just having fun with a friend, when Tails wasn't even there.
Cracking noises came from the joint sofa Tails as he contorted his body, forcing his sore limbs to lift himself up.
With the pop of his joints he seemed to be...longer, lankier. More and more, he strayed from what (Y/N) knew tails to be until he was practically unrecognizable. He wasn't Tails, he was his own creature far far from the loveable tech-whiz (Y/N) knew.
"Oh, my dear. Don't tell me you're actually crying over a vermin of their caliber??"
Crazed eyes looked up at (Y/N) with an adoration of some kind, one that the morbian recognized as the lions he'd give his blue friend. "You have me, and I'm certainly better." His hand reached up and grabbed for (Y/N)'s leg, setting it down before his arms wrapped around it, hugging it close to him as if he were worshipping (Y/N)'s physical form. Hypocritical. This was far worse than holding hands and yet where was his punishment?? "I've always been there, since the beginning. I'm Tails, Sonic's best friend, the player two. You're hero."
(Y/N) shook their head violently, trying to free their legs from Tails' grasp only to be met with his two tails wrapping against it, keeping it in place. "Stop. Stop trying to leave. I'm the best for you, I'm your friend."
"I love you."
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Thanks for reading ♥︎
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camille-lachenille · 2 months
Text
Like a god of old
For @cilil
At first, there is only darkness, like mist on a winter morning. Then there is a glow not unlike dawn piercing through clouds and Théoden blinks, surprised to be able to see. He takes a breath in, shocked not to hear his lungs rattle and feel his chest ache, before noticing he does not need to breathe anymore. He breathes in again anyway, relishing in the lack of pain. If this is death, Théoden thinks, it is a hundredfold better than his last years of life. Only then does he notice the presence beside him, just at the edge of his vision.
Careful, Théoden sits up, marvelling at how easy it is, and look at the being. He looks like an old man, in the dim light, yet his stature is strong and his face unlined by the years. Théoden peers at his face, half hidden in the shadows, and feels his breath hitch. “Father?” he asks quietly, for the man looks like Thengel as he was in his prime. Yet something is off.
The man smiles and his features shift just the slightest, and he bears now a face Théoden knows from countless carved statues and innumerable descriptions in songs. “In a way,” the likeness of Eorl the young says, voice deep as the woods. “I am you father as I am the father of your forefathers, of countless warriors and hunters from Ages past, Théoden Ednew son of Thengel.”
The man’s - no, the god’s - face shifts again, taking the appearance of a dark-haired Elf of noble bearing, and Théoden looks at him in awe. “Béma, my Lord,” he whispers in awe. “So I am well and truly dead, in the Halls of my Fathers…”
This last addition is mostly for him, more a whispered thought than anything else, but Béma still answers. “You are dead indeed, Théoden King, and your death was bold and glorious like few before you. But this is not the halls of your fathers, but the Halls of Mandos. This is but a step in jour journey. Come, walk with me.”
Stunned, Théoden grasps the god’s outstretched hand to help him stand. The motion is strangely fluid, the old ache in his hip gone as if his body is more thought than flesh. Of course he cannot feel pain, he muses, he is dead and his body must be a memory of sorts, an old image he clings to.
Béma leads Théoden through vast halls shrouded in mist, the place eerily silent for their feet do not make a sound on the ground. “I heard of your valour, son of Rohan,” Béma says almost conversationally. “I looked over you on the Tapestries and saw your fate. Be proud, for your end was not in vain and brought a new Age in its wake.”
“I was but an old man riding to his death in despair,” Théoden answers without thinking. He glances at the god walking beside him, and finds he is changed again. Gone is the noble Elflord, replaced by a tall and rugged hunter. Théoden thinks he sees shadows of antlers about his head. “I did my duty to my people after I let them suffer for too long.”
There is a silence before Béma speaks again. “You were despairing indeed, knew you were riding to your death, and yet you met it in your own terms. This demands no small amount of courage, Théoden King. I heard songs already comparing you to me, charging the enemy with fury and might…”
Théoden suddenly feels like a boy barely of age and ducks his head. “They mean no ill, Lord Béma,” he says almost bashfully. “And most certainly my deeds are made grander than they are.”
The god laughs, a deep, rumbling sounds that reminds Théoden of galloping hooves pounding the ground. “Old tales are made to be sung again and again, and I have no grudge against the bards likening you to me, son of Rohan. And I may even say that they are more flattering to me than you. For, you see, I am made for battle and blood, while you had to shape yourself for this role in pain and despair. And you turned this despair to rage, to strength to face your enemy head on in a way I will never be able to. Yes, you are strong, Théoden King, and worthy of all the songs that will be sung about you in the Age to come. But we reached the path you have to take now, I cannot go forward.”
Indeed, they stopped walking, and they are facing doors that look carved out of the very mist that bathe the place. Théoden runs his hand, calloused but smooth of any wrinkles, on the shifting shapes of the doors. He sees a child crying, a woman falling down a ravine, a king lying down to sleep, a woman with her babe in her arms closing her eyes. He breathes in, for the last time he knows, and look back at Béma.
“My Lord, I am honoured you took the time to lead me here,” he says with a bow of his head, so light without a crown resting on his brow.
“The honour was mine, son of Rohan. Go now, your time has come to take this road.”
Théoden closes his hand on the door handle, hesitate. Breathes out. Looks back at Béma once more.
“Your forefathers await you, Théoden King. They are proud of you,” the god says with a warm smile that remind Théoden of his mother’s smile.
Théoden nods at Béma, smiles back and open the doors.
Inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/curiouselleth/746143860815740928/the-ghost-of-jrr-tolkien-rising-from-the
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specialagentlokitty · 6 months
Text
Carol Danvers x reader - say love
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A/N: I’ve never wrote for Carol before it’s probably bad but I just wanted to write for her 😂
Standing on the Statue of Liberty, you looked at the light of New York from across the water, a small smile on your face.
“Been a while since you smiled.”
Tilting your head back, you went back to staring at the city.
“Didn’t think you’d be able to get up here Fury.”
“I have my ways you know this (Y/N).”
You hummed a little bit, slowly nodding your head.
“We need you.”
“I told you after everything that’s happened I’m not coming back.”
“Stop being childish.”
You turned around, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you glared at him a little.
“I get it, you two go history. We all got history but that don’t mean you can ignore me when I call for you.”
“You’re not my boss fury, I helped you as a one time thing, that’s it.”
He sighed, leaning back against the stone as he looked at you.
“We’re playing this game? You don’t wanna play this game with me.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“No way, you don’t get a free pass out this shit anymore. I don’t give a crap whether you two get alone, Earth is in danger and you’re going to get your shit together and help Danvers.”
You turned around, crouched down, resting your arms on your legs.
“Either you do this by choice or I make you.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know, now let’s go.”
Getting up, you walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, teleporting you from the statue to his office and let go of him.
“Thank you.”
“I would’ve left you up there.”
“No you wouldn’t, now shut up and take the damn file.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing the file and you opened it, giving it a quick read over before tossing it back on to his desk.
“Seems like she can handle that.”
“Maybe most of it, except Danvers can’t touch the device, even with her powers it would destroy her.”
“Okay?”
Fury sighed.
“As a demigod you have that ability to touch it, I need you to get in there, grab the device, bring it back here and secure it for us.”
You sighed a bit.
“Fine. Okay.”
“Great, she’s already there, just get in and get out.”
You waved your hand dismissively at him as you teleported away, heading to the location.
You could tell that Carol was here, the guards were unconscious, and you made your way inside.
It wasn’t hard to find which way she was going, so you just made your way there, standing in the entrance of the room.
You watched as Carol reached out.
“If you value your hand and you life I wouldn’t.”
Carol spun around, fist raised but when she saw you she slowly lowered it.
You walked over, reaching out you picked up the circle object.
Tossing it in your hand, you examined it a little bit.
“What is it?”
“Don’t know.”
“Who did it belong to? What race?”
“Don’t know.”
Carol sighed a little, looking at you.
“Are we ever going to talk about this?”
“No.”
She slowly nodded her head and you turned your attention back to the device in your hand.
You held it up against the light, and you lowered it again, then you put it in your pocket looking around the room for anything else.
“We need to go.” Carol whispered.
“If the device is here then there has to be some sort of research, a hard drive or something and I need that as well.”
“Right, okay.”
Carol began to search around as well, anything she thought was related she would bring over to you to have a look at.
Most of it you threw aside, a few things you kept, stuffing them somewhere into your jacket.
“Take a look at this.”
You walked over to the superhero, taking a seat in the chair as you watched her type something into the keyboard.
“It’s not a weapon.” She said.
“It can still be just as dangerous, by the looks of this it’s something to bring back life.”
“How?”
You glanced at her before looking at the computer quickly erasing all the data.
“By taking the life of somebody else, it takes that life force, and for the right people it will use that energy to bring someone else to life, or add to their lifespan. These guy’s probably wanted to study it and try replicate it for their use.”
“Would that work?”
“No. Only a god can create something like this.”
You stood up, and turned around, only to be thrown back against the wall which knocked the air out of your lungs.
You fell to the floor, slowly taking a breath.
“Fuck…”
You slowly pushed yourself up and you looked around with hazy eyes, trying to find out where the shot came from.
You found Carol fighting the attackers.
You teleported away, dropping your jacket in Fury’s office.
“Don’t touch!”
With that you teleported back and grabbed Carol by the back of her suit and you threw her behind you, tensing your back as you felt someone hit you with something metal.
Spinning back around, you grabbed it as they tried to hit you once more.
Taking it from his hand, you tossed it aside and punched him through the wall.
Flames licked at your fists as you spun around, punching someone else to the ground.
Backing up, you put your back against Carol, and you both stood there back to back, fists raised.
“We can’t fight our way out of this…” she whispered.
“Give me you hand…”
“What?”
“Give me your damn hand Carol..”
You reached out behind you, and you felt Carol grab your hand.
“Don’t move…” you whispered.
You raised your foot, slamming it back on to the ground to send everybody around the pair of you flying out, then you were gone.
Letting go of Carols hand you vanished again, and you rolled your shoulders a bit, placing your hand on the wall.
“Sorry boys, it’s been real fun.”
Flames burst out of your hand, engulfing the wall in flames, and you swung your hand to the side, catching all the walls in flames.
You teleported out again, back into the office and you picked up your jacket.
“I’ve got their research don’t worry I’ll deal with it all.”
“As always it’s been a pleasure.” Fury said.
You said nothing, and you teleported from the room back to your home.
It wasn’t fancy, but it worked for you.
You had a hidden room for where you stored the device in a case and sealed it along with its researched and you left the room again.
Throwing yourself on your couch, you picked up a baseball and you threw it towards the door.
“Breaking and entering is illegal.”
“We need to talk.”
Carol walked over, setting the hall back on the table and she stood in front of you.
“We’ve got nothing to talk about.”
“Right, so you’re not ignoring me and everybody who talks to me?”
You shrugged a little and she sighed.
Walking over, Carol knelt in front of you, resting one of her arms in the couch and brought the other up to gently touch the side of your face.
“Please don’t angry with me..”
You reached around her, grabbing the tv remote to turn it on and she took it from you, setting it back on the table.
“Come on, please? I’m really sorry.”
You carried on ignoring her and she leant forward, resting her forehead in yours.
“(Y/N) you know I didn’t mean too.”
“You stood me up Carol, our two year anniversary and you stood me up.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I really am sorry.. my ship broke down and I had to fix it, then I had to come back here..”
“You could’ve called…”
“I did, you blocked me.”
You huffed a bit and she smiled.
“Come on.”
You moved your head back and head butted her slightly.
Carol laughed slightly.
“Okay maybe I deserved that.”
She got up, and she laid on you, putting her head on your shoulder, her hand coming down to hold one of yours.
“I’m not leaving though.”
Wrapping your arm around her, you closed your eyes, holding her tightly.
“I love you.” She grinned.
“I hate you.”
“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.”
Grinning a little, you pressed a kiss to her head and she smiled brightly, closing her eyes as well
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lisbeth-kk · 5 months
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Sherlock fandom.
Differences
John’s always thought that both Holmes brothers were inclined to strive towards perfection. He’s wrong, of course. As Sherlock so often informs him, John’s an idiot. By now, John doesn’t find it as insulting as he did in the beginning of their acquaintanceship. Sherlock uses the word more like an endearment these days, truth be told.
“So, what’s your perception on perfection compared to Mycroft’s then?” John asks, his voice a bit slurred from the mulled wine he’s had his fair share of. 
Sherlock rolls his eyes automatically when his brother’s name is mentioned, but they have a soft expression. He leans back in his chair, his right foot dangling in front of the table. 
Totally relaxed, John thinks.
“Well, Mycroft is, as you know, a pompous arse and has an obsession when it comes to symmetry. I’m sure it’s a name for it, a diagnosis of sort,” Sherlock smirks. 
John chuckles and sips his warm brew. He nudges Sherlock’s foot, beckoning him to continue. Sherlock goes still, his eyes fixed on where John’s foot rests against his own. Had John been sober, he’d probably withdrawn his foot, but now he lets it stay. 
“Sherlock? You alright?” John inquires softly. 
John’s voice seems to get Sherlock out of his daze, and he continues talking, and lets his toes stroke against John’s foot. An electrical jolt runs up John’s leg and sets as numerous sparkles in his stomach, Sherlock’s deep voice adding to the sensation. 
“As you know, I am able to appreciate beauty, but to me symmetry is boring. I need something else to keep me interested. Quite the opposite of what my brother prefers; imperfection is what I find fascinating.”
John basks in Sherlock’s proximity but is acutely aware of his words and frowns. 
“What?” Sherlock asks with narrowed eyes. 
“You can’t stand imperfection, Sherlock! That sign with the miss-spelling last month, for instance, or any typos…”
Sherlock interrupts him, waving his hands dismissively, sitting up in his chair leaning closer to John. John misses the warmth from Sherlock’s foot, but Sherlock’s gaze makes John’s neck heat. 
“I’m not speaking of that type of flaws, John. It’s imperfection in nature, architecture, art, music, but most of all in people that fascinates me to no end. And those who are able to surprise me on a regular basis…”
Sherlock trails off focusing his eyes on John’s lips, which makes the heat on John’s neck creep up to his face. 
“What about those people?” John whispers unable to divert his eyes from Sherlock’s perfect lips. 
“Their imperfection and not to mention their adeptness to surprise even me, is nothing but life altering. A thing I find myself unable to live without,” Sherlock murmurs. 
When Sherlock’s hand cups John’s face, John closes his eyes and leans into the touch which sends a tingling sensation through his entire body. 
“To me you are perfect with all your imperfections,” Sherlock whispers. 
John sighs, opens his eyes and reaches out to touch Sherlock’s face, stroking his thumb over a perfect chiselled cheekbone. Their eyes meet and both move at the same time, and finally their lips meet. The position is strenuous, and Sherlock isn’t close enough, so John does the only sensible thing and breaks the kiss, much to Sherlock’s disquiet. 
“Come here,” John murmurs, pulling on Sherlock’s sleeve. 
Being a genius, Sherlock understands only seconds later and climbs into John’s chair, straddling John’s thighs, cradling his face and finally lowering his head to claim John’s lips once more. 
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