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schrijverr · 4 months

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We’re Adopted?!?

When Bruce’s kids end up on the Watchtower due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, Jason first tries to get the League to believe that they’re all biologically related to Bruce. He tries to avoid having Jason give everyone a sex talk by reminding him that he’s adopted. This leads to all his kids pretending that this is the first time they’ve heard of it, much to the horror of the League and the exasperation of Bruce.

Based on this post.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

It finally happened. After years of successfully keeping the League from finding out about all the kids he has, they’ve finally met. And in the most dramatic way too. In a way it’s very suited for their family, but that is a detail Bruce had hoped to keep from the League.

However, it happens anyway and now his two teams have met.

They’re sitting in the common area of the Watchtower when the Zeta-Tube suddenly whirs to life and the Batmobile comes crashing into the area. It spins to a stop as if it had been in the middle of a chase, before the teleporter snatched them off the streets.

Bruce gets out of his chair and makes his way over. He isn’t too worried about them, since they’re here and while that might have meant danger before, they are safe with him now. If one of them had been terribly injured or left behind, they would be screaming and yelling already and that isn’t happening yet.

His eyes meet Tim’s, who is standing next to the car, his costume a little singed, hair askew and looking a little worse for wear. Apologetically he greets: “Hi, Justice League, promise we have a good reason to be here.”

For Bruce, this is quite normal chaos and these are his kids, but he notices that the Justice League has formed a defensive barrier around the Batmobile. They perceive his kids as a threat. It’s so absurd that he is quiet for a moment.

In that moment, Superman steps forward and demands to know: “Who are you and how did you get up here?”

“With a car no less,” Hal adds, sounding a little impressed, which doesn’t make Bruce smug in the slightest, no sir.

He is about to tell everyone to stand down when the doors of the car open and his kids come spilling out. It’s a bit of a car clown moment with how many vigilantes fit inside.

Dick nearly falls out of the side, with Damian following after him. Both of them have soot in their hair and scratches on their faces.

A singed Jason stumbling out on the other side as he loudly complains: “This is the last time we’re letting Spoiler drive.”

Steph’s costume is a little flame tattered too as she swings open the driving side and says: “I’d like to see you do better, asshole. At least it wasn’t like Signal’s first driving attempt.”

“Hey,” Duke exclaims, coming out of the car after Jason, looking a little banged up. “Just because I didn’t know where the missiles were, doesn’t mean it was terrible.”

“I didn’t eject anyone,” Steph pouts.

“Yes, you did!” Duke exclaims. “You very much did.”

“Well, not by accident,” Steph argues. “It was part of the plan.”

The other front door is now open and Cass is next to him. He puts an arm around her and pulls her into his cape. Then he decides to step in, because it seems the League doesn’t know what to do when they’re not viewed as an authority.

“What happened?” he asks.

Six heads snap his way, as if his kids had forgotten where they were. It wouldn’t be the first time, so he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes.

Tim reports: “The Riddler broke out of Arkham, along with like a bunch of b-rate villains. They caused havoc, but we rounded them all up. Riddler took the time it took us to round them up to set up his trap. He went with a fire theme.”

“Is he contained now?” Bruce asks, a little concerned.

“Yeah, no problem, B, we got ‘em,” Steph assures him casually with a thumbs up.

“Sorry, uhm, excuse me, Batman, do you know these people?” Clark asks in that awkward, polite way of his.

Bruce contemplates for a second what he should answer. Then decides that he wants to know what happened and doesn’t want to deal with questions. So he just says: “My associates. Now report, how did you end up here?”

“Associates,” Jason snorts.

However, he is ignored by his siblings as Damian reports: “We have caught the Riddler, however we did so without solving the last of his riddles. So, he sprang his trap after we took him down and we became the target of some missiles.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?” one of the League members exclaims under their breath.

“Tt, of course we’re okay,” Damian spits back. “Unlike you, we have been trained.”

“And we learned our lesson; always solve all of Riddler’s riddles,” Steph grins, giving them all a thumbs up.

“I already said that, but who listens to Red Robin? Nobody,” Tim complains.

Before it can turn into a squabble fest again, Bruce clears his throat and Dick jumps in to get them back on track, explaining: “We tried to get away in the Batmobile, but we couldn’t outrun it forever. So we decided the best way to escape was to use the Zeta-Tube connection.”

“It was great, Spoiler sent replacement flying so he could put in the code,” Jason laughs.

“I wanted to beam us to the Cave, but with the amount of time we had, just taking us to the most recently used coordinates was smarter,” Tim explains. He checks his arm computer then says: “The chatter on the police coms is that the missile made impact where we disappeared. No one was in the area when it went off, but there is property damage. And a few of the new recruits are convinced we’re supernatural, since none of our remains are being found.”

That last bit gets a few laughs from the assembled vigilantes. Most of Gotham PD have resigned themselves to the fact that the protectors of Gotham are humans, who seemingly pull of the impossible from time to time.

However, there are always newer members, who come up with great conspiracies about how they aren’t human and that’s why they pull it off. Bruce knows that it’s a bit of a game between his kids to see who can get them to believe the weirdest shit about them.

So, he just lets them have the moment of amusement after what must have been a highly tense moment.

Then he asks: “Where is Bluebird?” since he hasn’t seen Harper among the crowd, which is weird, because she’s on the night shift, while Duke is on the day shift.

“She the one, who figured out where Riddler was and caught him,” Dick says proudly. “She was escorting him to Arkham when she noticed he was being off. Without her we would’ve never made it to the Batmobile on time.”

Bruce makes a mental note to thank her for saving his other kids when he sees her.

“We also let Oracle know we’re okay, so she can inform her and Batwoman when she gets back from her mission, just in case she saw the news,” Dick goes on.

“Wait,” they get interrupted by Hal. “How many more heroes are you going to pull out of your sleeve? What happened to Mr. I Work alone? Am I being crazy here? Why are you all just standing there?”

Clark says: “Well, it’s obvious Batman knows these people and they do not seem like a threat to us, so I was going to wait until they’d given a report before demanding answers.”

“And we will demand answers, Batman,” Diana adds, making Bruce swallow a little. “We are your friends, we hoped there would be some trust there. You seem to have a whole different team of warriors. That is something you share.”

“Don’t mind, B, he just comes with permanently built in paranoia, it’s nothing against you,” Dick tells them.

In the background, Jason snorts: “Did you hear that guys? We’re his team of warriors. His associates.”

Damian huffs at that: “These imbeciles obviously do not know what they are on about and I refuse to be referred to as such, when I am the blood son.”

“I don’t know, Robin,” Steph laughs. “It almost starts to feel like he cares. I mean, he obviously has been bragging about us.”

“He has not spoken a word about us,” Damian exclaims.

In the background, Bruce can feel a headache coming. He has tried to keep his kids away from the League for their own safety. They can’t use his kids against him, should they become compromised, if they don’t know they exist.

However, they do know now and not only that, it seems like his kids are here to cause trouble on purpose now that they finally get to meet, who they refer to as, ‘his work friends AKA the only friends he has’. Delightful.

Indeed, the League has picked up on the words Jason set Damian up for, because Hal repeats: “Blood son?”

And Clark frowns: “They do seem quite young.”

“Batman, are you employing babes to protect Gotham with you?” Diana exclaims in horror.

“I am highly trained, who dares to call me a baby,” Damian protests immediately and while his siblings would usually laugh at him, they now also feel offended.

All of them have had to defend their age to people, including Bruce. They don’t like being questioned. So all of them are falling over themselves to defend their position as protectors of Gotham.

Bruce decides to help them, explaining: “There are more teen heroes, most of you have or had a sidekick. These vigilantes keep each other safe, they have the safety of back up and I also provide good gear. They’re not running around without a clue of what to do.”

“Ahww, I knew you cared, old man,” Steph coos, while Cass taps a genuine thank you in Morse code on his arm.

“Batman, I appreciate that you look out of them, but most sidekicks have had superpowers that are related to one of the heroes and sought out a mentor to help,” Clark says gently. “You have no powers, where did you get these kids?”

And in hindsight, he should have known better than to hesitate. However, at the times, he does, because the circus, the streets, the neighbor’s and some villains, are not really good answers to that question, no matter how true. And he doesn’t know if he wants to explain.

Still, he has to admit that he melts slightly when Cass speaks up to say: “His kids.”

Plus, it’s kind of funny how most League member jump out of their skin at the sudden voice, since none of them had spotted Cass before. Not even those with superhuman senses. His daughter is so talented.

Arguably the funniest reaction is Hal, who shrieks: “Where the fuck did you get these kids, Spooky!” as he violently startles backwards.

However, Jason jumps on the opportunity, sending Bruce a shit eating grin before he does (he might still be wearing the helmet, but Bruce knows him). He says: “Well, when two people love each other very much, they-”

No, just no. Absolutely not.

The League already thinks him to be a bit of a weirdo, who is steeped in paranoia. They respect him, but they’re always a little wary of him too (which is good in a way, he doesn’t want them close to his secret identity with the threat they could pose). Still, he doesn’t want them to think he practically bred an army of shadow-y vigilantes to protect Gotham. He’d never live it down.

“Hood,” he quickly cuts Jason off, before he can continue with his nonsense. Then he tiredly reminds him: “You’re adopted.”

“WHAT!” Jason shrieks, ripping his helmet off to reveal a shocked and betrayed face even with his domino mask. “How could you keep that from me?”

It seems like everyone needs a second to recover and process after the outburst. However, Jason is gaining steam and dramatically barrels on: “For years. Years! I lived with you, you fed me, you cared for me. You are my dad. At least you were. Was that all a lie? Some ruse? How- Why- I deserved to know.”

Bruce is shocked, unable to form words. His relationship with Jason has been rough, though getting better. It’s still tentative, though, so to hear Jason refer to him as dad throws him off in one of the best ways. Until he realizes Jason is fucking with him.

Even then, it is kind of nice that Jason is messing with him. When he looks, he sees that Jason is having fun under the mask of betrayal. It doesn’t have a bitter undertone, like it would have a few months ago. Instead, it feels a little like all the times Jason messed with him in front of Commissioner Gordon, back when he was Robin.

So, later Bruce will cut himself some slack for basking in that feeling for long enough that the others catch on and join in.

It starts with Steph, who has never claimed him as her father a day in his life, but will always be committed to a bit. She sniffles: “I can’t believe you’d lie to our brother like that. Soon you’ll tell us we’re all adopted.”

“Spoiler,” Bruce warns, hoping to deter anyone else from joining in.

That doesn’t happen, instead, Dick pulls Duke into a hug and exclaims: “Yeah, next you’ll tell us Signal here isn’t our half brother, like you didn’t leave his mother at the altar.” He narrows his eyes and adds: “I was the flower boy too, I can’t believe you did that to her.”

He sees Duke’s calculating gaze, flitting between Dick and himself and knows it’s only a matter of time before he picks a side, so he grunts: “Signal, don’t-”

“She talked about it until her death. Don’t tell me she made it up,” Duke suddenly says, picking the side of his siblings. Bruce would be more glad about him getting along with them, if it weren’t for the fact that in joining him, he left Bruce.

“You monster,” Jason butts back in again, not having had the spotlight in too long. “Look what you’ve done. You can’t just drop something like that on us. You can’t just pull the rug out from under us. Adopted. Or am I the only one? Huh? Is that it? Are all of them your real kids except for me?”

It’s a little too close to home, so Bruce stumbles: “No, of course, you’re always my kid. But this isn’t news to you. To any of you.”

“So we are all adopted?” Tim shrieks, stumbling forwards to clutch Bruce’s arm. “Those people you took me away from, were they my real parents? Did you lie to me?”

And this is just unfair. They’re not allowed to gang up on him like this and be dramatic. They know he doesn’t know what to do when they get like this. He gave them a home, he kept them as safe as he could, he loves them. What has he done to deserve this?

Dick and Duke are still embracing each other and Bruce is pretty sure Dick is weeping. Steph is definitely fake crying, while Jason is consoling her. Tim is still clutching his one arm, babbling about being taken from his parents.

Cass is his favorite right now, because she isn’t playing along with her sibling, just quietly huddling into his side. Damian would share the spot, but Bruce knows that the only reason he isn’t playing along, is because he doesn’t know what their game is and how he can use it to his advantage.

Indeed, he joins in – though not entirely purposefully – because he asks: “Father, I am your true son right? I am the blood son, not these imbeciles.”

Jason is definitely hiding a snort as a sob and in that moment, Bruce is tempted to disown Damian, just so he doesn’t have to deal with all this.

He can see how shocked the Justice League is, their eyes wide with horror, none of them having truly recovered at the sudden appearance at a gaggle of kids, who are now seemingly breaking down over the surprise news of being adopted.

He should’ve just let Jason give the League a sex talk.

So, he is tempted to not recognize Damian as his own, however, he knows how much Damian values his heritage and how insecure he is about his spot in the family. And he does look genuinely worried about what’s happening. So, Bruce has to sigh and reward the vulnerability that he shows with compassion, saying: “Yes, Robin.”

Jason lets out a pained groan and says: “So it is true? We really are adopted?” then breaks down crying. It’s almost impressive how well he can sob on demand. How well all of them can, Bruce wonders when they learned that and who taught them that.

The League, meanwhile has also apparently reached their limits and Hal suddenly explodes: “Fucking hell, Bats. Is that how you’re telling them that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Around him all the others start to nod in agreement and Bruce knows that some of those shaking shoulders of his kids aren’t sobs but laughter at this point. He wonders if it’s wrong to return any of them, despite knowing that he would never give any of them up, even with all the gray hairs they’re giving him.

He does think about it though, especially when Clark cautiously says: “It seems unnecessarily cruel, Batman. They’ve just been chased through the streets by missiles. You could have waited.”

“Yes, it is very cruel,” Diana agrees. “And I do not know you to be cruel.”

Usually, Bruce has an image to maintain, but that image includes him working alone and having no sense of humor or humanity, so obviously it’s incorrect. Besides, any reputation he might have had has just been ruined by his kids. He doesn’t have to take this judgment from his friends.

So, he throws his hands up and, bordering on a whine, says: “I’m not cruel. They all know they’re adopted. All of them were over nine when it happened. Hell, not even all of them are adopted. Not all of them wanted to be. They know! They’re just messing with me.”

It’s quiet after his outburst.

Both the League and his kids blink for a few times. It’s clear that the League doesn’t know what to believe, but his kids are luckily done with the chaos. Though, Bruce doesn’t know if he’s happy with that when he sees some of their faces morph into grins.

Dick decides to put him out of his misery first, letting go of Duke to skip forwards and sling an arm around Bruce, which he grudgingly allows. He never says no to hugs from his kids, no matter what stunt they’ve just pulled.

“He’s right,” Dick smiles at everyone. Then he jokingly tugs on one of the ears on his cowl – something he has done since his early days as Robin – as he teases: “He didn’t mind. Right, B? You are a softie under there.”

“Who cares if he minds,” Jason says loudly. “That was hilarious, did you see everyone’s faces when replacement told them he’d stolen him out of his home. Golden. I’m gonna ask O for that footage the second we get back.”

Now the League is looking at them with even more confusion. Unsure of what to do now.

Bruce wants to let them suffer, but he also doesn’t want to give his kids room to do something else to embarrass him. So, he takes the reigns saying: “Just to clear it all up; this is Nightwing, my oldest.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Dick gives the League a bright smile.

“My second or third oldest – we’re not sure – Red Hood,” Bruce continues on, gesturing to Jason, who just gives them a salute. “And, again, the second or third oldest, Black Bat.” She waves at them, startling some again, since they’d forgotten she was there. Hm, they might have to do another stealth and awareness training day.

“This is Spoiler, she is not one of mine technically,” he continues on introducing everyone there.

Steph grins at all of them and says: “I eat his food and steal his money, but I’m not having him sign shit. All of the perks, none of the accountability.”

“And how you remind me of that,” Bruce sighs, before gesturing to Tim and saying: “This is Red Robin, my fourth kid. He is adopted, but also emancipated. And I did not steal him away from his parents.”

“Technically, he did, because they were kinda shitty, but only legally when they died,” Tim corrects, which is not necessary and Bruce will be answering questions about that for months. Judging by the smug look on his face, Tim knows.

Deciding not to engage for now, he moves on to Duke. “This is Signal, he is my ward. He normally works the day shift.”

“Hello,” Duke squeaks awkwardly.

“And this is Robin, he is the youngest,” Bruce finishes his introductions.

“I am the blood son of the Bat and the one true heir,” Damian exclaims proudly.

“Yeah, yeah, we know, brat,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You were once B’s sperm. Whoop-die-doo.”

Multiple faces contort at that, with Tim and Steph both exclaiming how gross that is and how he didn’t have to phrase it like that and how they never want to hear about Bruce’s sex life ever again in any way, shape, or form.

Hal comments: “Wait, you actually have a kid?”

Bruce fights the urge to facepalm as he deadpans: “Just a second ago, you were willing to believe I had seven or more, why do you seem surprised?”

That renders Hal speechless, which is good, because Bruce doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to check up properly on his kids, check up on Gotham, and be as far away from the League and their questions as he can.

So, he uses the silence to says: “Now, as interesting as this has all been, we are going home. I have a city to check on and kids to ground.”

All around him protests start up about how he either has no power over them and can’t ground them or that they’re too mature and well trained fro childish things such as grounding. But Bruce is great at tuning them out when needs must, so he types in the last of the Batcave coordinates and lets the Zeta-Tube take them home.

A/N:

I love coming up with convoluted reasons of why the batfam would be in the Watchtower lmao

Also Alfred totally taught them to cry on command, knowing they would use it for evil <3

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lov1ngreid · 5 months

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BOYS LIKE YOU | 1

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader both intended to be 18 in this story

(warnings): none!

(word count): 2.9k

(author’s note): so long i’m so sorry

hii i decided to split this fic into a mini series cause i have so many ideas and directions for it and i didn’t want to squish it into one long fic, some chapters maybe nsfw ;P i also wrote this with high school in mind, of course Spencer is regular high school age and not like twelve 🤨 but if you’d rather picture them in early college go ahead! also I usually HATEEE when fics have outfit inspos but soz I’m forcing you to imagine these outfits they’re so gorg 😭

okay no more rambling!! if u wanna listen to what i did when i wrote this, here you go!! ➘

“That’s what you’re wearing” Your brother brodie snickered from his bedroom as you strolled past it on the way to the bathroom, usually you wouldn’t have given in to his snide comments, which you were no stranger to. But it was thanksgiving if your brother thought your outfit was ugly, chances are, so would the rest of your family.

Your outfit always happened to be a topic of conversation.

Your movements halt when you finally process what he had said, before slowly taking a few steps backwards meeting his taunting face while he sat on the edge of the bed “What’s wrong with it?” You cock your head feeling the embarrassment trickle through your face up to your ears, usually you wouldn’t care what comments Brodie decided to make about your outfit, but a lot of people were going to be seeing this one.

Honestly you thought it was pretty tame considering the only revealing piece was your skirt, which frankly wasn’t that short, and you thought you had compensated with your boots.

“Why are you wearing… boots?” He laughed looking down at your outfit with furrowed eyebrows before looking back up at your flustered face “and why are they red?”

You scoffed, embarrassment completely diminishing when you find out that was his problem with your outfit “they’re maroon… and you’re wearing a doctor who shirt, don’t think you’re in any position to be judging me” you glare back at him uncrossing your arms.

Honestly, he has absolutely no right to be making fun of your outfit, despite being twins, you were the complete opposites. His outfits usually consist of different coloured converse and some sort of comic book shirt, yours consisting of literally anything else.

“I have a party afterwards anyways, I don’t have time to get changed”

“You have a party on thanksgiving?… who has a party on thanksgiving” Brodie scoffs finishing the lace on his second converse

“A lot of people” you smile sarcastically backing from his door frame to continue your task before you were rudely interrupted “not that you would know” you mumble under your breath before leaving his bedroom.

A little satisfied smile crept upon your face when you heard Brodie’s faint ‘hey!’ Emitting from his bedroom.

You knew your mother would be absolutely furious knowing you had intentions on leaving thanksgiving early to attend a party, which was exactly why you had no plans on telling her. Your family was big enough as is, and considering you had shared thanksgiving with the Reid family for 12 years and counting, with both combined there had to be one, or many pockets for you to escape unnoticed.

The car ride to the Reid family home always seemed so short, always feeling so much longer when you were riding there on bikes, or walking there after school.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had even used your bike, it had to be collecting dust in your garage by now, you truly don’t think you had used it since starting highschool, despite your brother’s efforts to get you to ride to Spencer's house with him, each time you declined, something always more important popping up.

The familiar smell of the house flooded your nose while you took a step in, it always smelt like chai and vanilla, and it always looked like fall threw up on it, decorated with faux autumn leaves and pumpkins all year round, they always just added Santa hats to the pumpkins in December, you knew that was Spencer’s doing.

The wind was almost taken from you while Diana embraced you in the biggest hug, almost knocking over the cupcakes from the tray you were holding, giggling a little you returned the hug one handed of course. She always smelt like the house times ten, the vanilla smell becoming so much stronger the closer you were to her, pulling back she embraced your face in her warm slender hands brushing your cheeks softly with the pad of her thumb.

“You look so beautiful” she smiles, your face turning pink at her compliment, she did this every year. Every year she hugs you, looks like she’s about to cry and then goes on about how beautiful you look for the rest of the night, and every year it makes you feel a little more guilty about not coming around as much.

Both your parents embrace Diana and William before they usher you to the beautifully set dinner table, where the rest of his and your family awaited your arrival, both yours and his grandparents chatting away at the kitchen bench about some sort of football nonsense.

Always in awe of Diana’s meals, you debated on changing your mind and slipping out after dinner instead, not wanting to miss out on her carefully cooked Turkey.

Despite getting swept away in greeting the rest of your family, as well as the rest of the Reid’s, it didn’t take you long to notice one missing Reid.

Regardless of your efforts to talk to Spencer, he never really seemed that interested in befriending you after middle school, every time you tried to talk to him in class he always went quiet and dismissive, or snapped mean answers back at you, and you simply took the hint.

Spencer saw the way your friends snickered to themselves when you tried to speak to him, the way they’d whisper when he walked past, even though you’d smile and wave, he always saw them laugh behind you. He knew deep down it wasn’t your fault, but he couldn’t help but blame you when you never actually stopped any of your friends from making snide comments at him or his friends.

Excusing yourself from your family, you hopped up the stairs, muscle memory walking you towards Spencer’s room before you mind had caught up,

Reading the large ‘S R’ sticker on the bedroom door, you chuckle to yourself a little, staring at the crooked R knowing it was like that cause you couldn’t reach it to meet the S in the fourth grade, Spencer had refused to help you, cackling as he watched you on your tippy toes while you begged him to stop laughing.

Before your mind could even process anything, you brought your arm up to knock on his door, swallowing nervously.

You weren’t even sure why you were nervous, he just seemed to shut down any attempt at being friends and you never knew why. He got along with Brodie just fine, they were honestly really close, they hung out at school everyday and studied together after school on Wednesdays and Fridays, it just seemed like your invitation stopped one day.

The door swung open while your mind had still been dissociated thinking about all the attempts you made to talk to him, snapping you from your brain fog, Spencer stood at the door almost equally as confused as you, honestly you didn’t know why you were there, and as smart as he was, he didn’t know either.

“I brought you a cupcake” you chuckle pushing the baked good towards him with your right hand, eyebrows furrowed he takes a look at the seemingly vanilla cupcake in your hand before looking back up at your eyes.

“I don’t like cupcakes” Spencer shakes his head quickly while his hand grips harder on his door handle, debates in his mind about closing it on you.

“Yes you do” Cocking your head you stare at Spencer confused, he loved cupcakes, he also loved your cupcakes “I literally saw you eating one in the library the other day” you scoff at his obvious lie.

“And why were you in the library” he raises both his eyebrows, glancing back down at the pretty cupcake you had offered him, which he began to quickly regret declining, because he really did love your cupcakes.

“Reading?” You conceded pulling your arm holding the cupcake back “are you implying I don’t read Spencer Reid?” This was the most he had talked to you in months, you never realized you could miss a person's voice despite them being alive and well.

“If the boot fits” he shrugs leaning on his door, the grip on his door handle loosening a little, you stare a little taken back, he doesn’t talk to you for years, and then all of a sudden on thanksgiving he decides he’s going to spit back sassy little comments at you?

“Can you just take the cupcake?.. it’s pumpkin spice” you admitted pushing the sweet back in his direction, a little part of Spencer’s facade broke down, almost giving into the cupcake “I even made the little pumpkin out of fondant… it took forever” you whisper the last part almost talking to yourself.

He tried his hardest to stay strong but you had just about broken him down at this point, with a displeased groan rolling his eyes he reached out to snatch the cupcake from your soft hand, earning a small smile to form on your lips.

It only took him seconds to dig into the treat before a soft chuckle escaped your lips “can I come in?” You smile glancing behind him into his room, it looked almost exactly the same as it did when you were fourteen, posters in the same place, no furniture was rearranged, you even spotted the mini dalek figurine you had bought him on his top shelf.

Hesitantly Spencer nods stepping away from the door frame to welcome you in, his room was always kept neat, sheets tucked perfectly under his mattress, and books always in the correct spot. His weakness, however, was the countless amount of school work pages spread across his desk.

Taking a seat at his desk your eyes still gaze around his room, feeling like a blast from the past, all the books you read, series reruns you watched and stories you wrote coming back to you in a wave of memories.

“So…” he mumbled, mouth still half full with your cupcake before sitting down on the edge of his bed “do you need science homework?” Shrugging boring his eyes back into yours.

You scoff, frankly offended he would even ask you such a thing “no?.. Spencer, you and I have almost the same science grades." You'd be lying if you said you’ve never thought of asking Spencer for homework, especially on nights where cheer practice ran late and you didn’t have nearly enough time to finish, but you’ve never actually asked.

“Yeah almost” scoffing while he brushes his hands against each other wiping the crumbs of the cupcake away, you sat there stunned a little, he knew you’d never ask him considering your friendship… situation, you wouldn’t use him.

You felt the rage boiling in you for a little at his attitude towards you, considering you had done absolutely nothing for him to be mad at you for, sure you weren’t in the same friend group, but he would know more than anyone the statistics of middle school friends drifting apart in highschool, you swivel his desk chair to face his desk, frustrated palming your face with your hands dragging them down a little.

You allow your eyes to rake across his messy paper filled desk before they’re drawn to one page in particular, written in pink pen on beige lined paper, quickly snatching it from the pile you let your eyes scan over it a little before letting out an unexpected laugh.

Catching Spencer’s attention his eyes had almost bulged out of his head once he realized what piece of paper you had in your hands.

“Dear Spencer…” you start reading aloud ignoring Spencer’s loud attempts to make you put it down “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our conversations and wanted to let you know-”

“Put it down please” he groans, reaching forwards to grab it from your hands, only for you to snatch it towards you standing up from his desk chair.

“-That I’ve liked you for a while now- Sadie Keller!” You gasp grinning up at Spencer while he makes every attempt to steal the paper back from your grip “you never told me you liked Sadie Keller!” you playfully smack him with the piece of notebook paper before letting him grab it from your grasp.

“I don’t really tell you anything” Spencer crumpled up the paper before tossing it back onto his desk, you face fell a little at his words, only because he was right, he didn’t really tell you anything at all, because he didn’t ever talk to you, because you weren’t really friends.

You almost could’ve sworn you felt a lightbulb click on above your head while you watched Spencer scurry his papers together to make a neat pile “come to a party with me” you rush causing his movements to halt slowly turning his head to meet your gaze.

“Why on earth would I do that… it’s thanksgiving” he reasoned, confusion painted across his face. He simply could not fathom why you would want to take him to a party, he also couldn’t fathom why he was considering it.

“God” you groaned, moving to take a seat on his bed now “people have got to get over that” rolling your eyes you pat down your skirt a little before continuing your attempt to read his face for clues on what was going on inside his head.

“Why would you want to be seen at a party with me?” He queried, attitude dripping from his sentence, watching as your face dropped and your brows furrowed coloured him confused, why would you want to be seen with him?

“Sadie will be there… and I can’t see a potential love story and not indulge” you snicker, almost dismissing his question, you thought you’d spare a sentimental conversation about how much you missed him and instead go an easier route, you wanted him to come for his benefit.

To your surprise, he looks as if he considers it for a while, it was the first time you actually took in what he was wearing, a fitted doctor who shirt and gray sweatpants, the same exact doctor who shirt your brother has on, you cringed a little at the thought that they had coordinated that.

“Fine” he says after a while of silence, you simply cannot help the grin creeping up on your face “but only because of Sadie, and not because of you” he rushes again, almost sounding like something he was trying to convince himself rather than you.

Holding your hands up in defense you smile at his surprising compliance “how are we even supposed to leave without anyone noticing?” Beginning to worry that both your families were beginning to wonder where both of you had gone.

In all seriousness, your family actually had not noticed that the both of you were up in Spencer’s room, and were much more occupied by the game of football they all huddled around to watch.

“Follow me genius”

go to PART TWO

don’t want to miss new chapters? click HERE

BACK TO MASTERLIST

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic recs #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert

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meraki-sunset · 5 months

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i have a question about hiveswap as im just getting into it, considering that the events of hiveswap and hauntswitch both take place in the late 1900s, whats the point exactly?

we already know whats going to happen and that all of the characters are doomed fail on their goals and then die no matter the outcome. the caste system is never abolished, HIC stays in power, both earth and Alterna get destroyed, and doc scratch continues his plan without a hitch

none of it seems to really matter or serve any purpose other than worldbuilding for 2 already doomed worlds (3 if you count the cherub portal implying a lost society of cherubs)

Well, it is. It is worldbuilding, that’s what precuels are. They add extra context to events you already know will happen, they add to how they happened, how we got there. That doesn’t make them pointless.

It may seem irrelevant at first glance, but Hiveswap actually has a very important role.

It sets the stage for the arrival of the players on both Alternia and Earth-A

The events of Hiveswap are happening with an equivalent distance in years between both Alternia and earth

Which means the Beta children are about to arrive in their meteors (1995 - 1996) a little after the time when Joey and Jude are having this adventure (1994), which means the Alpha trolls will get to Alternia soon too.

Both timelines are mirrored in time, they both have the same exact amount of time before the end.

We know the Beta kids hadn’t arrived yet to earth during Hiveswap because it’s 1994, and that the Alpha trolls hadn’t arrived either because Trizza is the heiress, and there can only be one at a time, so Feferi isn't there yet.

This series of events are necessary for Doc scratch’s plan, otherwise he wouldn’t have intervened, giving Xefros a surveillance free communication channel, so Joey and him aren’t detected by the authorities.

He needs them under the radar so they can (while trying to send Joey back home) connect people with each other, cause necessary problems, kick start important events.

All which will set the stage for the 12 troll player’s arrival.

What do I think it’s the most important event Doc Scratch needs Joey and Xefros to make happen?

Trizza has to die. There can only be one heiress at a time, and if Feferi is about to arrive, then Trizza has to go.

The events of Hiveswap/HauntSwitch will cause the death of the heiress, either fighting against the Condesce, at the hands of the revolted trolls Joey and Xefros will influence, crushed to death by Feferi’s own meteor, who knows. But if this is the "equivalent to 1994 on Alternia" and all that is happening it’s really happening as a mirrored version of Earth’s timeline, then the 12 trolls should be to arriving at different dates during the following year. Which means she doesn’t have much time left, as we know Feferi was the only heiress on Alternia during Homestuck. And we’re 13 years away from the end of the world. It needs to happen now.

It's the same tactic Doc used with Rose, Vriska and Terezi

The only reason he ever “helps” anybody it's because he needs them to make things happen.

He needs Joey and Xefros alive, he needs the rebellion to go through (even if it fails, it'll fail in a way that it's usefull for him), he needs Trizza gone so Feferi can come to Alternia and so the final stage of this plan of millions of years connecting dots and manipulating people to create a hostile planet for the new players to grow stronger that their predecessors, can begin. The rise of the new players.

I personaly think Tyzias might be the one to intercept Karkat or at least be involved in it.

It could be her, Joey or maybe someone else, but whoever intercepts him will have to know about the signless and according to Tyzias’s password (69) she already knows about him and she knows his symbol, and seems to be a follower in the down low. Tyzias also must knows how the singless promised that there would be another troll like him, and according to Doc scratch's explanation:

The followers of the summoner decreased enormously, but the Doc said himself that there were still some of them hidden and I think he was talking about Tyzias and her alies.

Sometimes we forget that there was intervention from the suferer's followers to ensure Karkat's survival

That’s why he has the sufferer’s symbol, someone who knew it gave it to him. And we know Tyzias knows.

The ectobiologist and team leader also seems to always be the last one to turn 13, (as well as the last to wake up as their dream self) so Karkat should be the last one to arrive, ending that chain of events.

Of course this all means that, by the time the end of the world happens, and asuming they’re all still alive, all Hiveswap trolls would be adults carrying duties off planet and would die the day of the apocalypse during the Vast Glub along with all troll Civilization.

The same would happen to Joey and Jude, assuming Joey is successful and returns to Earth. They would die on the 13th of April 2009 with the rest of humanity, not knowing they had a part in it or that their lost brother was the detonator of the end of the world.

It’s tragic in the end, but it’s necessary. Someone has to play that role.

They are the stagehands who prepared the stage for the first act of the play they were never meant to see.

And who knows, it may not be the end of them, maybe we’re too quick to assume they didn’t get saved somehow. By some random paradoxical event or deus ex machine that teleported them away from danger. We’ll have to wait and see how it plays out.

It's been a while since i wrote an analysis, i really missed that ^u^

#homestuck #theory #homestuck theory #hiveswap #karkat vantas

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cosmicanakin · 3 months

Text

blast from the past.

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. at your friends' charity event, you run into your ex-boyfriend vinnie and his new girl, who takes an instant dislike to you and acts possessively aggressive and jealous.

contains. angst, mention of breakups, unhealthy relationship dynamics, jealousy, possessiveness, threats of violence, cliffhanger ending.

authors note. a cliffhanger! love thoseeee. part two will be up soon. and sorryyyy it's so short i was rushing.

part two.

smoothing your outfit, you take a deep breath as you enter the building hosting tonight's charity gala. your friends had volunteered your help on the planning committee and it was hard to turn down such an important cause. but agreeing also meant risking running into vinnie, your ex-boyfriend of over a year who still held your heart in a soft grip.

scanning the room as names and faces blur together, you finally spot a familiar head of perfectly tousled curls across the way. vinnie looks unfairly handsome, chatting animatedly beside some blonde you didn't recognize. a fluttery feeling bubbles in your stomach despite your best efforts to ignore it.

just then vinnie's gaze sweeps the room, locking with yours from a distance. he offers a small smile in greeting that warms you. until the blonde follows his line of sight, catching your stare with harsh eyes that narrow almost imperceptibly. you blink in surprise at her glare, wondering what problem she could possibly have with you already.

cursing your still all too readable emotions where vinnie was concerned, you turn purposefully toward a table to greet familiar faces. small talk flows easily with old friends, finding comfort in their company over lingering on past hurts.

a while later needing air, you excuse yourself to grab a glass of champagne from the open bar. the crowd has only grown in your brief absence, making navigation tricky. rounding a cluster of people, you accidentally collide with someone already occupying the newly emptied spot beside you.

"oh sorry," comes a clipped tone, recognizing it as belonging to vinnie's new arm candy. up close her features hold a brittle prettiness, expensive fabrics stretching taut over exaggerated curves. she clings possessively to his arm with long red talons, sizing you up through narrowed lids.

"not a problem," you respond politely, signaling the bartender. her grip on vinnie's bicep noticeably tightens at your presence, red nails digging into his skin. he winces almost imperceptibly, shooting her a look.

"i'd be careful if i were you. vinnie's moved on so you should too, rather than hovering around trying to cause problems." her voice drips saccharine venom, clearly relishing the power trips petty drama brings. a harsh ringing sounds your alarm bells, wondering what narrative this girl has spun about your past.

keeping composure, you merely flash a tight smile. "i'm not here for vinnie, just supporting friends. no need to worry, you've got him on quite a short leash it seems."

a huff of indignation leaves her cherry-stained lips, still holding onto vinnie's arm possessively. only then does he speak, resting a placating hand over hers to soothe. "babe calm down, we're all adults here right? no need to cause a scene."

her grip doesn't loosen, venomous gaze never leaving your face as if expecting a further retort. perhaps sensing tension, the bartender slides your drink across with a grimace of solidarity. taking a steadying sip you sigh, deciding retreat was the wisest path here.

turning to go, you catch vinnie's eye meaningfully. "i'll see you around vinnie. the both of you enjoy the rest of your evening." with that you weave back into the crowd, eager to leave the cloying perfume in your wake.

it couldn't have been more than 20 minutes later that you felt an arm wrap, coming face to face with the blonde demon once more. her features now hold pure malice, grip on your arm painfully tight.

"i thought i made myself clear to stay away, you bitch. vinnie is mine now, so do us both a favor and leave him alone before i have to make you." her snarled words send a chill down your spine at the sheer crazed fury behind them. people mill around unaware as you wrestle to free yourself from taloned restraint.

with a fierce shove you manage to rip your arm from her grasp, taking a step back warily. "i don't want anything to do with vinnie, you crazy bitch. i was being polite earlier for his sake but clearly, that was a mistake."

before she can lunge further a familiar voice interrupts the brewing catfight. "babe what's going on?" vinnie levels you with a glare that pierces your heart. "i saw you putting your hands on my girl. what the hell y/n?"

you gape in disbelief, gaze flickering between the unhinged witch smirking in triumph beside him and his stony features. "are you fucking kidding me right now vinnie? she fucking attacked me, threatening me over nothing! your bitch is psycho, i was just defending myself!"

he regards you with disbelief, curling a protective arm around her waist. "i highly doubt that. you were always jealous and grasping, couldn't accept me moving on."

hot angry tears prick your eyes at the cruel betrayal, hurt swarming your chest as he blindly sides with this stranger over you after so long together. gathering the tatters of your dignity, you nod tightly before stalking away without another word. glancing back as you enter the lobby, vinnie's new girl hungrily devours his mouth in a lingering kiss that twists the final knife. how pathetic.

storming out into the cool night, you dial your friend noah's number with shaking fingers praying he's awake. within minutes headlights pull up and you collapse sobbing into the passenger seat, spilling the whole sordid tale between heaving breaths. he comforts you as best he can, driving you home in respectful silence once the tears run dry.

collapsing onto the bed still dressed to the nines, you let lingering hurt and frustration wash over in waves until merciful sleep claims your aching mind. all you can do is keep moving forward and try to let go, though scars of the heart heal slowest of all.

that was the last thing you wanted to look back on, after working so hard on moving forward from vinnie in the year since your break up. but fate works in cruel ways sometimes, bringing people from your history back to reopen barely scabbed wounds. all you can do now is try to pick up the pieces again and keep placing one foot in front of the other, hoping in time even bitter memories will fade.

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v3nusxsky · 1 month

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I gottttt a request! ❤️

Hope you like it. It’s about Reader and Larissa.

Reader and Larissa been together for 3 months now and Larissa has been feeling lusty and horny for Reader, but she feels that Reader is not ready because when Larissa always accidentally walked on reader changing she flinched and quickly covered herself up. In a act of vulnerability she began to talk to reader in their bedroom about how she’s feeling and what caused it, reader listened and felt remorseful because of her fear of Larissa seeing her back caused her to act that way. Then Reader began to undress and Larissa jaw dropped when reader turned around showing her this beautiful tattoo reader had, Larissa began to droll and began to feel horny. Basically Larissa pounds reader doggy style with her shapeshifter cock while she grips reader hips and praised reader beautiful tattoo and how sexy and beautiful she looks and how reader doesn’t need to hide her tattoo because Larissa loves it.

Can you do the smut- dom Larissa sub reader, daddy kink, praise kink, stigmatophilia, shapeshifted cock.

I’ll write what stigmatophilia means so you don’t have to look it up. stigmatophilia- People with stigmatophilia find piercings, tattoos very attractive. They love to look at, touch, and feel skin that's been decorated with ink and studs.

This is the tattoo I mean-

https://pin.it/5IDewTm

Inked Intimacy 18+

*authors note~ so excited to get the second instalment out and it’s a spicy one that let me dive into the character a little more*

Trigger warnings~ accidental flashing? Tattoos slight body shame stigmatophillia kink dom Larissa sub r shifted cock daddy kink praise kink begging worshiping breeding doggy missionary mating press pure smut tbh

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

Tag list

Time trickled on, Wednesday proving the existence of The Hyde and how Miss Thornhill was actually Laurel Gates. Even the arrest of Gomez Addams had somehow managed to squeeze itself into a month of life. Soon enough the students were leaving for their holidays which would leave you and your lover at Nevermore. Most staff also went to see family for the holidays, but Larissa and yourself decided that it was better you stayed. After all someone had to keep an eye on the school and start the process of finding a new bounty teacher for the start of the new semester.

To say over the last few weeks your blossoming relationship with the shifter improved would be an understatement. You saw one another every day and her new measures to help when your ability overwhelms you are working fantastically allowing you both to feel closer to each other. But with that closeness another problem rears its head.

Larissa wants you. Needs you. And well who wouldn’t desire you? Almost losing you, admitting and feeling the love you shared only lead to her wanting to show you. Truthfully, she’d wanted to have you since the first day you walked into her office. But timing would be they key to success here and she knew all good things come to those who wait. And waiting for you to be ready was of upmost importance to her.

Three knocks sounded from the thick mahogany door before Larissa let herself in, as agreed. Plans to spend the day relaxing in your quarters as you planned lessons and she worked on advertising the new position. What wasn’t planned was the way you flinched at the sounds of her heels on your floor and quickly moved to cover yourself with a thick hoodie that was covered the back of your chair. If Larissa didn’t know how to read your body as well as she did, she would’ve thought you were just cold. No. You were scared. Heavens know why you’d be scared in her presence but she hated that fact. “Sorry sweetheart” she cooed as you turned to face the woman, “I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you’d heard the knocks.”

For days on end Larissa couldn’t get the way you flinched out of her mind, you were scared. Yet you still cuddle into the woman as you sit on the sofa, you still kiss her and tease her when she doesn’t quite get the jokes in the film that’s mindlessly playing in the background. You still stare up at her as if you’re enchanted by something out of this world. But you’d flinched. Why? Three months of being together and you’d never expressed any fear towards the woman, only once admitting to her after a few classes of wine that you thought she was stunning and that intimidated you. Even now, you wonder how someone so utterly gorgeous would want someone like you. The thoughts that you may have misinterpreted her desire to show you love due to how you viewed your own body caused the blondes heart to clench painfully. She’d spend forever, in this life and the next, showing you how absolutely precious you are. One of a kind. Hers.

You had caught the underlying fear and sadness radiating in the woman’s aura recently. It puzzled you in many ways, perhaps that’s why you invited her to join you this evening for some good wine and a conversation. You couldn’t help but want to easy the woman’s emotions and provide any help or reassurance she required. Little did you know, you were the cause of these emotions. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that she would’ve caught the way you flinched days ago. She hadn’t mentioned anything after the incident so you assumed you’d escaped that conversation. Three knocks and a quiet call of “darling” alerted you to her arrival.

“In here my love, I don’t have any of the fancy red you have but-“ you mumbled standing on your tip toes to reach the wine glasses at the back of the cupboard with a dissatisfied grunt. Only to feel a hand slip it’s way around your waist, pulling your body flush against her front as she effortlessly retrieved the glasses you were seeking. A kiss dropped to your forehead before she stepped back allowing you to move freely as if you hadn’t been pined between her and the kitchen counter seconds ago. “Red is fine my love” she murmured, eyes trained watching you with an amused smirk. “Flustered darling?” She teased with no bite as you stubbornly focused on pouring the wine ensuring you spilled none, instead of facing her, knowing if you did she would see just how the small act of kindness had affected you. “Busy love” you chuckled, “go sit” you rushed her into the living area in order to control yourself and bring her wine, happily serving the woman who simply held your heart.

Taking a seat to her right you passed her the glasses before sipping your own under her gaze as she mirrored your action. “Mm” she practically purred as the wine hit her taste buds, tongue coming to swipe her bottom lip in an attempt to taste the drop of wine resting there. In these situations you are glad you’re the empath. Only heaven knows if she had that ability you would’ve been called out ages ago for the growing need at such a simple action. But no matter how badly you want your girlfriend the idea of her wanting you is too far fetched so why would you face the rejection?

“Darling?” She hummed watching as your gaze seemed to harden, your mind wandering far away from anything in the room, thoughts running wild. “Mhmm?” Was all you offered the woman as you stole a glance at her. There she sat in all her six foot three glory, eyes trained on you. “Can we- uh talk?”

A talk. Could you have done something wrong? No. Was something wrong with your classes? No, you had high pass rates from recent testing. You offered a small nod as your mind ran a million and one different scenarios for the reasons of the talk. You must have accidentally pushed your worry onto the woman as she rushed to comfort you that the conversation wouldn’t be bad.

“I- heavens this is hard- I would like to ask if you fear me? I noticed the other day you flinched. I don’t want to scare you dear. I love you too much for that, I promised to protect you and that means anything you need love. I can’t stand the fact I may have made you uncomfortable or any kind darling? I hope you know nothing like that would happen till your ready” the blonde rushed out in a hopes that this would be fixable. But if it wasn’t? She couldn’t think of that right now. Knowing you are feeling all her anxiety and need only to be hit with a strong wave of remorse and guilt. “Darling?” She murmured as a stray tear slid down your cheek.

You scrambled to lift your shirt off your back, still covering your modesty but finally fully exposing your back to the Principal. There you had fine art work of a Mandela style lotus flower stemming from the centre of your spine what appeared to be black wings framing it with two smaller versions of the flowers appearing on your shoulders. Silence filled the room as the woman took in the pure beauty and detail on your back, fingers itching to trace the delicate lines but hesitating due to your emotions. “Beautiful” she breathed out shocking you. “How ever did you decided on such a beautiful design?”

The truth was the Mandela design was to represent the universe and your spiritual connection to it. The intricate design always called out to you, and the flower was your favourite so it made sense. The black wings that framed the flower were used to cover what you were told was scars from childhood. Unfortunately, you knew what that meant, the back colour signifies the end of that part of your life and the two Mandelas were added to show the weight that your ability adds to your life. Which you promptly explained to her after pulling you top down and facing the woman clutching your wine glass, occasionally swirling the liquid around.

A steady hand guided yours to rest the glass on the table before coming to cup your cheeks with a feather light touch as if she wasn’t there at all. Only when you let out a sigh of relief did the woman move slowly to press her stained lips to yours. Kissing Larissa is one of your favourite activities to do, so naturally you respond with the same energy as she puts in. It’s also not uncommon for the woman to pull you into her lap as her lips rub up and down the expanse of your neck. Hands firmly planted on your hips. “I’m ready Isa” you mumbled as your hands came to rest on her shoulders, “bedroom please.” Enough said.

It was no surprise to you that the shifter could easily scoop you up while her lips reminded attached to yours. After all this was Larissa Weems. The strongest shifter known. The poor woman was on a mission to get you out of that damn shirt so it’s also no surprise that she tossed you on the bed before crawling after you shredding your shirt and bra. “Turnover” she demanded and you did instantly, trusting the woman with your life. “Good girl” she murmured as her fingers delicately traced the tattoo only to be followed with her tongue. You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying it but this was a first for you.

“M so gorgeous, so pretty darling” she purred practically worshiping the marked skin, “so sexy” she concluded her thoughts as she nipped the junction between your shoulder and neck. “Please” you whimpered trying to turn yourself around. “Oh no sweet thing, I want to take you while this beautiful display of art is on show. You’re such a pretty blank canvas baby. You should get more of these wonderfully creations” the attraction to your tattoo was definitely unsuspected to the principal but damn did it do things to her. So intense in fact she was acting like the needy fifteen year old losing control of her shifting abilities. Now standing proudly to attention she was sporting an eight inch throbbing cock. Something she knew you’d feel pressed against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy?” You whimpered feeling the extra warmth. “That’s right daring, I just can’t help myself. Please pretty girl can daddy fuck your sweet little cunt?” Her pleas sounding strangled as she glanced at the tattoo again, this time letting you feel how badly she needs you. Larissa wasted no time in shredding any of the barriers between her and your skin after you begged her to take you how she wanted, to love you.

Her thick swollen tip would tap your aching clit as she used your slick to coat her cock. You’d be lying if you said that she wasn’t an impressive size. “Please daddy” you whined as she teased your aching folds for what you consider ages only to be adjusted to now have your ass up and face smushed into the bedsheets. “Perfect, a pretty view for daddy” she murmured as she lined herself up with your soaked hole.

She was big, there’s a sting and burn in slight areas but much to her delight you took her full length with ease, tightly squeezing her sensitive shaft as her bulbous tip brushed against your cervix causing you to let out and unlawfully loud mewl of pleasure, “Daddy!” Her soothing hand rubbed small circles into your hip as she stilled herself, waiting for you to adjust, she murmured words of love and praise. Simply comforting you till you began to absentmindedly fuck yourself backwards onto her dick.

“Oh fuck pretty girl. So fucking good for daddy. Practically suffocating my big cock baby. So fucking good for daddy aren’t you sweet girl?” She praised while finding the perfect rhythm to throw you both closer to the edge with each thrust. “Oh fuck daddy please” your noises muffled by the bedsheets, “m so good.” Larissa couldn’t help but yank your back towards her front and kiss, lick, suck and bite any of your exposed skin which made your weeping cunt more slick than it already was. “Daddy! Gonna cum! Please fuck i can’t” you whimpered as you teetered on that maddening yet beautiful edge. “Perfect. Good girl for daddy. Cum for daddy darling! Fuck I’m gonna cum with my girl” she panted as you both tumbled over the edge and tumbled hard. Her rhythm faltering as spurts of her white sticky seed got fucked into your cervix and you smothered her cock in your glistening cum. “I’m not done with you sweetheart, wanna see your face as you scream for daddy” she whispered in your ear before slipping out of your core and flipping you over with ease.

What a vision you are, sprawled on your back, pupils blow wide, leg’s slightly shaking and cheeks covered in a slight flush. Your tits on perfect display now, so soft and round that Larissa just has to have a taste. And she does. Her mouth makes quick work of marking up your chest suggesting you get them tattooed to remind anyone and everyone that your her girl. Soon enough your hands are in her hair, ripping out any pins in your way as you tug the strands to communicate your need. “Daddy” you whimpered, “please, show me love now.”

And that she did, this time entering your fluttering tight little hole with no resistance, watching as your lips part in a slight O shape. Your inner walls gladly accepting the intrusion and hugging it tightly. “Feel so good sweet girl. So good for me. My good girl” she murmured as she bestowed sweet kisses all over your face once again settling into a rhythm quickly. Clearly, you are both sensitive as it doesn’t take long for the second peak to arrive. “Daddy!” You mewled with every thrust. “Daddy’s girl, gonna help my girl.” It was evident to the blonde with how you were milking her cock you were close so with an almost practiced ease your legs were manoeuvred up over the shifters shoulders providing a deeper more satisfying angle. One that made you see stars as you came screaming the only word in your fuzzy head. “Daddy!” As if it were possible Larissa seemed to continue filling you up for hours, each time you’d think she’d finished her shaft would twitch and more cum would spill out as she desperately tried to hump it back into your eager cunt.

You couldn’t help the wince as she pulled from your puffy over sensitive sex but she was quick to hush you and shift her anatomy back before holding you close. “Darling? Are you okay love?” It honestly broke your heart how unsure she was of herself, that everything that had happened was consensual but you knew her past. Wednesdays mother had really done a number on the younger principal. “Well fucked darling that’s all” you couldn’t help but snuggle closer to the woman, So full” you mumbled into her skin. “No more hiding. Your beautiful stunning self sweet girl” she almost seemed to question out loud before murmuring something about if her seed stuck she hopes the children would take after their mommy. More praises were shared, not only Larissa but you also before you both fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Word count 2924

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kaleldobrev · 4 months

Text

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A rebloggable Dean Winchester Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. All stories are Dean Winchester x F. Reader unless otherwise stated

Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories

Come on Tiger (823) | You convince Dean to come to bed

You’re Not Normal (College AU) (556) | The reader and Dean become friends in a weird way

Happy Father’s Day (1.2k) |It’s Father’s Day, and the reader has some news to tell Dean

One Day (1.2k) | The reader and Dean talk about their dream life away from hunting

You Don’t Mean That (Demon!Dean) (2.3k) | Sam and the reader finally find Dean and bring him back to the Bunker. Sam says not to talk to Dean before they cure him, but the reader has other plans.

I Love The Way You… (2.9k) | Dean wants to propose to you but isn’t really sure how, so he asks Sam, Jody, and Donna for help

Nightmare Cure (1.6k) | You struggle with nightmares. So Dean comes up with a way to help you.

Autumn Vibes (1.2k) | Dean creates a new recipe in honor of the fall season.

A Date with Dean: Lucky Strikes (5.8k) | Dean and you go bowling for this weeks date night. But decide to make it a little bit more interesting.

The Comforts of a Winchester (2.2k) | Having a nightmare sucks, but at least you have Dean to comfort you.

I Dream of You (1.7k) | Dean dreams of a life with you, but do you?

Pizza, Beer & Zeppelin IV (1.2k) | Dean is surprised to find out what your ideal first date is; and he’s more than happy to oblige

You Deserve Love (2k) | Sometimes Dean needs reassurance that you love him

A Small Part of You (2.3k) | Although Dean is gone, at least you’ll always have a part of him

I Love Her, That’s Why (2.2k) | Dean thought that he was doing a pretty good job at hiding his feelings for you…until Jack started asking questions.

You Make Me Happy (2.3k) | With you doing what he believes to be an incredibly reckless thing on a hunt, Dean finally realizes how much you really mean to him

Old Man (3.4k) | Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way

Without Hesitation, Yes (2.6k) | After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Spitting Image (2.8k) | You think Dean looks like one of your favorite characters. Dean on the other hand…doesn’t see the resemblance.

Come Back Home (4.5k) | After a relationship ending argument that caused you to leave the Bunker, you and Dean haven’t heard from/seen each other in over a year. Are there still sparks between you two? The better question is: Did they ever truly leave in the first place?

Daddy in a Different Way (2.5k) | A simple misunderstanding leads an older woman to believe that you and Jack are together, not you and Dean. But Dean does a “very good job” at clearing things up…But maybe not in the best way.

Pumpkin Muffins (930) | You and Dean decide to try new nicknames for each other

Days Like These (1.4k) | You and Dean decide to spend the day in while it’s raining outside.

Mutual Pining (4.3k) | Dean and you are in love with each other, and it’s obvious to everyone but the two of you

Please Don’t Leave (2k) | Dean’s lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn’t know what he would ever do without you

New Record (1k) | Dean and you set a new record

Pillow Talk (1.2k) | A common theme of yours and Dean’s pillow talks happen to be about having that white picket fence and apple pie life

Happy Anniversary (Non-Hunters AU) (2k) | You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

It’s Okay (1.8k) | Dean’s a little jealous that Sam still talks to you and not him

I Finally Get It (2.7k) | Dean thinks he looks like a character from one of your favorite slasher films. You on the other hand…don’t see the resemblance.

Genuinely Happy (506) | You and Dean enjoy a nice car ride together while you admire how genuinely happy he looks

Coming & Going (1.8k) | You want Dean to stay, but will he?

What Are We? (2.1k) | Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Stupidest Person Alive (1.7k) | After a near death experience in which you almost lost Dean, you tell him that you can’t risk losing him again.

The Day Before (743) | Dean comforts you when you get a migraine

Once Mine (Michael!Dean) (1.3k) | Michael thinks him possessing Dean can be a win-win for the both of you

Knew You’d Come Around (Michael!Dean) (1.5k) | Michael’s happy you’ve finally come around

Comfortable? (516) | Falling asleep in Dean’s lap while he’s driving

Would You Like To… (978) | You and Dean have been dating for a few months, and now he’s trying to figure out how to ask you to move into his room

Midnight Confessions (1k) | You and Dean have a “heart-to-heart” conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam

Hauled Up (1.5k) | Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

When You’re Ready (1.8k) | A case hits you particularly hard and all you want to do is be alone

Never the Favorite (844) | You finally try and set the record straight

Screw Consciousness (410) | Taking a nap with Dean after a long drive

Things Overheard (2k) | Dean overhears a private conversation between you and Sam

I’ve Got Ya (162) | Dean trying to comfort you after a nightmare

Blush (389) | For the first time in your life, you can say you’ve made Dean Winchester blush

Taste (657) | Dean going down on you in the back of Baby

Under Control (2.3k) | Dean keeps reassuring you that he has everything under control in terms of the Mark. But does he really?

Not the Same (Endverse AU) (4.7k) | Part One | Part Two

Coffee Kisses (3.3k) | Part One | Part Two

Old Man / Age Gap Universe

Shiny New Toy (Demon!Dean)

Supernatural: Purgatory Masterlist | 3/? parts done

My Hero Masterlist | ¾ parts done

Dean dressing up as a cowboy for a case and using Old West style pick-up lines

Introducing Dean to phone apps

Going to karaoke night with Dean at a bar

Pretending to be married to Dean for a case

Eating Halloween candy with Dean

Being one of the only witches Dean can stand

Getting Dean the perfect birthday present

Dean still worrying about you even though you’ve broken up

Dean still answering your calls even though you’ve broken up

Finding out you’re Dean’s soulmate from Apocalypse World Michael

Wanted Posters (Incorrect Quotes)

Dating Dean Poem/Moodboard

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #fluff #smut #spn drabble #supernatural drabble #spn drabbles #supernatural drabbles #kaleldobrev dean winchester masterlist

357 notes · View notes

violet-butterflies · 9 months

Text

❥︎ yandere! Villain Headcanons

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ stalking, violence, gore, angst ☞︎︎︎ A/N If you recognized this character then you probably read my work from Quotev. Or I might be wrong and my story might be more generic and/or similar to another author's work than I thought lmao. ( male yandere! oc x gn reader )

❥︎ yandere! Villain who disguises as a hero he killed earlier that week. He purposely caused a huge chaos in town where he can come in and pretend to help! After that, he can always go into the hero's circle and infiltrate the hero's defense systems and take the hero's powers all for himself!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is betrayed as a child by the very heroes that are supposed to protect him and his small village. Now, equipped with shadow powers that allow him to absorb and transform into the heroes he's killed, he is gonna hunt for the most powerful hero in town!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who meets the hero's overworked sidekick. No matter, you won't be a problem in his master plan at all.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is frustrated about how the hero barely shows up to most of the chaos he and his minions have caused. For god's sake, he made sure to cause trouble for the whole week so he could pretend to be friends with the hero and gain more intel! Why are you the one showing up to deal with all this?!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who has to change his plans due to how much the hero was not showing up. Maybe he can use you to hunt the hero down! After all you are his sidekick and, he must say, your company is not half bad!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who spends a lot of time with you to gain your trust; hoping that is he gets close enough you'd take him to the hero's hideout! But wait, why are you actually interesting?

❥︎ yandere! Villain who finds out you were betrayed by the heroes too. He can't help but sympathize with you but he just doesn't get how you still want to join forces with them. In fact, it only pushes you to protect the people even more! Not only that, he even found out that the hero barely does anything to help you if the crime is not big enough to take any significant credit! He can't help but feel a big need to protect you from people that are clearly taking advantage of you. This also makes him want to tear the hero down even more for taking advantage of your undeserved kindness.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who finds a lot of things in common with you and eventually hangs out with you for no reason on top of a building somewhere when nothing is happening. You were so sweet and kind! He wants to stop disguising himself because he feels bad fooling you. He's sure you'd fall in love care for who he really is anyways because it's his personality you've been hanging out with this whole time!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who finds out your real identity and where your family lives. Apparently, they live far away from the big city. Perfect! Now he has a way to get you out of the city for his master plan. You won't be there to help the hero. and you will be safe in case anything goes wrong.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is pretending to feel sympathy for your mom who apparently got harassed by a thug and needed to be hospitalized. Oh you needed to go home for a few weeks to take care of your mom? Don't worry about it, he'll make sure to keep the city safe! tell your mom that he's sorry for beating her up

❥︎ yandere! Villain who summons a murderous demon to massacre the city! Now that you aren't here to help the hero, he's free to let loose and do as much damage he can to draw the hero out and kill him! He doesn't even have to do a thing! All he has to do is to be a vessel for the demon and he can watch under his subconscious!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is in a panic since instead of the hero, you were the one that showed up. What were you doing here?! You're supposed to be with your mom! No no! You can't handle this yourself! Y/N GET OUT OF HERE YOU'LL DIE! PLEASE GET OUT OF HERE I DON'T WANT TO HURT THE PERSON I LOVE!

❥︎ yandere! Villain who gains back control when it is too late. Lying on the concrete streets is the broken and bruised body of his beloved sidekick. You are covered in bruises and blood. Multiple stab wounds covered your body and you were missing a whole arm. On top of that, crimson blood oozed out of you and you were losing heat quick. He doesn't even bother to hide his true identity since he wants you to see who he actually was at least once.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who is crying while he apologizes to your unconscious body. His whole body is shaking as he tries his hardest to find any solution to fix the problem he caused.

❥︎ "Please y/n wake up! I'm so sorry! Please don't leave me alone! You've barely even met me! The real me! So please open your beautiful eyes and tell me that everything is going to be ok!"

❥︎ yandere! Villain who shoots a sharp glare to the hero and lets out a string of profanities when the hero showed up late, witnessing the villain hug the body of his sidekick; he himself can't help but stare, feeling mortified and remorse.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who takes you to his hideout where he keeps you hooked up on all sorts of machines to keep your body alive until he can fully bring your soul back from the other side.

❥︎ yandere! Villain who swears on vengeance to the hero and promised himself to properly protect you from everything including himself from then on.

❥︎ "I promise y/n. I'll save you and we'll get to know each other properly this time. When the time comes, I'll let you punish me for hurting you and I'll keep you safe from everything including me."

#yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x oc #yandere x reader #yandere #tw: yandere #tw: stalking #angst #lovesick #male yandere x reader #yandere villain #villain x hero #yandere headcanons #yandere hcs

1K notes · View notes

rqgnarok · 11 months

Text

music to my eyes - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 4,266

warnings: spoilers for the season 3 finale of ted lasso, jamie being a lil self deprecating. reader uses female pronouns.

summary: jamie has a crush on the band’s bassist.

author’s note at the end!

Jamie’s so, so late.

Roy’s gonna have his balls. It’s the first training for the Queen’s Cup final against Tottenham– their first one without Ted, a little something before the freaking Champion’s League starts next year– and Jamie’s having the worst morning of his life.

He woke up late for his 4 am training that ran long, traffic was absolute shit and now he’s sprinting– not running, cause he’s not allowed to after he and Colin almost ran over the Prince of Denmark while racing each other to the locker room, a story for another day– down the hallway with Roy Kent’s fury just waiting to find its rightful owner.

He didn’t even have time to comb his hair today. It still looks amazing, but it’s the routine that matters. For his mental health or whatever.

Maybe that’s why he feels so jittery and doesn’t look where he’s going as he makes his way to the locker room. Jamie’s got his bag clutched to his chest and his headphones hanging around his neck, his jacket halfway on before he gave up and left it trailing down his side like a sad blanket.

He’s cursing whatever Gods control alarm clocks and traffic and hairbrushes when he knocks onto someone. It’s so forceful it sends them both to the ground with a grunt and a little ah! of surprise. Jamie tries not to grow annoyed and fails. He considers laying on the ground and becoming one with the carpet so he doesn’t face Roy’s justified punishment and sighs out his nose, pushing himself to a sitting position.

“–so sorry,” and it’s a woman, Jamie just knocked out a woman in his rush to work. What’s next? Is he gonna hit a cat with his car? Maybe spit on a kid’s face? She keeps babbling apologies, unaware of Jamie’s foul mood. “–supposed to be at her office but there’s just– there are so many hallways–”

“‘s alright,” he cuts her off harsher than he means to, guilt stabbing at him when she looks at him with wide, remorseful eyes. Jamie sighs, dusting off his clothes and standing, offering her a hand. “Me fault for bein’ in a rush. Should’ve seen where I was going.”

“Oh, god, you actually know where you’re going,” she says with a grimace, accepting his hand. She’s on her feet and standing too close to Jamie for a second that feels like a lifetime– almost nose-to-nose with Richmond’s greatest. Her laugh is stuttery and nervous when she steps back, barely meeting Jamie’s eye.

She’s cute. Jamie’s not planning to do anything about it, especially not with his fine for being late slowly becoming one for missing training but she is. Cute. His mouth lifts in a half smile at the thought, charmed.

“I was looking for Rebecca Welton’s office but I only got myself lost,” she says sheepishly, putting her hair behind her ear every couple of seconds since it keeps stubbornly falling out of place. Jamie’s fingers twitch a little but no. No, absolutely not, he’s not doing this to himself, no sir. “Is there any way you can give me directions without having to go with me? I don’t want you to be late for– shit. Practice, huh?”

Jamie thinks she’s the smartest woman that’s ever walked the face of the Earth until he remembers where they are. At Richmond’s training facilities. She’s looking at a disheveled man in a sports outfit. The story kind of tells itself.

“I– yeah,” Jamie stutters a little, clearing his throat to disguise it. “There’s, um, it ain’t a problem. I can take you there if you want.”

Her entire posture screams relief as soon as he offers, and it’s enough for Jamie to make up his mind even if she hasn’t said yes yet. “Would you? They said in the group chat not to be late and, like, they weren’t specific about it but you just know when a message’s for you, you know. And here I am, late–”

A beat.

“–and rambling,” she smiles at him again, the sight tugging at Jamie’s chest as he stands there like an idiot, his brain rebooting whenever she does it. “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it.”

And so Jamie asks a kitman to take his stuff to the locker room while he walks her up to Rebecca’s office. His hand hovers but doesn’t quite touch the small of her back while he blabbers his way through small talk. Nice weather, today, innit, traffic was absolute hell though. Oh, you’re not from around here, that’s nice, do you plan on going sightseeing?

He delivers her to Rebecca’s floor to a thankful, ecstatic Higgins, who welcomes her with a hearty shake of the hand and promises that she hasn’t missed anything important. She’s barely able to spare him a smile and a quick thanks before the door’s closed behind them and Jamie’s standing there on his own, smiling at nothing.

He’s still wearing a dopey grin when he finally finds himself on the field, Roy yelling at him to run laps until sundown for being late. His legs are killing him, he’s £200 poorer, and he didn’t even get the woman’s name; but nothing can drag him down from his high and make him forget how she’d squeezed his arm in gratitude, touch warm and calloused against his skin.

The next day Rebecca’s there before practice starts, looking tall and pleased as she claps her hands and shares the big news: since the final of the Queen’s Cup is being held right here at Nelson Road, she managed to get a band to play during the halftime show. They’ll be here the entire next two weeks for rehearsals and staging, so everyone must be on their best behavior if they don’t want their name in the summer transfer market.

Jamie doesn’t connect the dots until he sees her again, this time at a local bar big enough to house less than two thousand people. Keeley hears from Roy who hears from Beard, who heard from Higgins that Rebecca said the secret band was gonna hang around the city for a couple of other smaller, quick gigs.

Jamie manages to excuse himself from video games at Colin’s with the guys and offers himself to Keeley as a buffer between her and Roy at a bar tonight. Though, in Jamie’s very humble and very right opinion, they’re already on their way to getting back together for good.

The band’s gathered a nice crowd, the lighting low and the thrum of the music hammering on Jamie’s teeth. He’s nursing the beer Roy bought him, the man charmed enough by Keeley’s presence that he let Jamie bend his rigorous diet regime. Just for the night.

It takes three songs for the bassist to speak up, a makeshift spotlight landing on her, sweaty and delighted at being onstage. Jamie’s blood rushes to his face and his vision blacks out for a second.

It’s her. No longer is she lost and out of her element, shyly asking a stranger for help. Both of her feet are steady on the ground, the strap of her bass snug around her neck. Her fingers are toying with the strings even when no song’s playing, an air of rightful confidence washing over the room as it takes her in. Jamie isn’t the only one suddenly breathless.

She grins against the microphone, coy. “Thank you so much for having us, Jaded Joker. We’re Karma Police, and we hope you have as much fun hearin’ us as we do playing for you.”

They fall into another song with that quick introduction and Jamie can’t take his eyes off her, barely hearing the song as the world around him slows down. Her clothes and jewelry sway with her to the rhythm of the music, the lights shifting seamlessly into different colors making her look ethereal.

Keeley clocks it in immediately.

“She’s good, huh?” she nods at the stage where Jamie’s stranger is moving to the beat of the bass like no one’s watching, shamelessly enjoying herself and making funny faces at her bandmates. “Fuckin’ smoking, too.”

Jamie only hums in a very Roy Kent-like way, knowing there’s no fooling Keeley fucking Jones. The last thing he needs is to give her details and have her dip a toe into Jamie’s nonexistent love life.

Of course, he doesn’t take into consideration that Roy’s a brazen gossip.

“So,” Sam elongates the word as he’s spotting Jamie on the press the next day, happy watching him grunt at the effort. “How was the band last night?”

Jamie almost drops the damned thing on his chest.

“Roy said you enjoyed it,” he continues giddily like he didn’t almost commit accidental manslaughter by catching Jamie off guard. “Especially the bassist. What was her name?”

Sam fakes confusion for less than a minute before Jamie gives, mumbling it under his breath. He’d been weak and googled Karma Police in the privacy of his car before going home, swiping through the images that popped up until he recognized her face.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the article he clicked on informed him. Jamie had repeated the name under his breath just to see what it felt like on his tongue for an embarrassing amount of time.

Thanks to Karma Police’s bassist and lyricist (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the band’s sophomore album New Perspective has found a home in people’s hearts and high on the global charts.

Keeley wasn’t kidding. She’s good.

“Oh,” Sam realizes, some of his amusement softening into genuine interest when he watches Jamie’s face do whatever the fuck it's doing. “Oh, you like like her.”

Jamie immediately flushes under Sam’s gaze, making sure the weight is safe in its place before physically fleeing the conversation. Sam doesn’t mention it to anyone, which Jamie appreciates so badly he could cry a little, but he does find his eyes across the locker room later when Rebecca comes in, four people in tow.

“Everybody, these are the wonderful musicians I spoke to you about the other day,” she says it in a way that screams I’m a pleasant human being and embarrass me and I will end your career right where you stand all at once. “We’re on a little tour of the installations and I thought we’d all come to say hi to wrap it up.”

The boys are charming and welcome them with ease. They’re not one of the most liked teams in England despite their bad runs for nothing, but Jamie’s frozen the second he catches sight of her. She’s a step behind one of her bandmates, shaking hands and smiling politely at conversations while staying slightly in the background, the stage persona from the previous night gone like taking off a jacket.

Jamie takes pride in the way their eyes meet and her tight expression loosens, her smile blossoming into something more genuine, less unsure.

“Hey, stranger,” she says a little awkwardly after having gathered the courage Jamie couldn’t to cross the room and say hi. It feels like they’re alone in a room full of people, and for a second Jamie thinks he sees Sam stealing a few looks, making sure he keeps the others away and distracted for a little privacy. “Did you make it to training the other day?”

“What?” Jamie blanks like an idiot, then shakes his head when he remembers how they met; both of them, late for their respective responsibilities. “Oh! Oh, yeah. I– yeah. I had to run for me life to make up for it, but I made it.”

“Good,” she smiles, shifting in her place. “I, um. I’m glad we get to play for you guys. What you’ve done this past season, getting back to the top, has been unbelievable.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he replies, awestruck, and backtracks when she looks a little apprehensive. She’s doing the hair thing again, combing it back while it stubbornly escapes its place every couple of seconds. A nervous tic, maybe. “I mean– some friends and I, we saw you last night at the Jaded Joker. If anything, it’s an honor we get you guys to play for us.”

“Oh!” she seems pleased, ducking her head at the compliment. Her shoulders loosen again, and Jamie tries not to feel like he just scored a goal against Man City. “Oh, you should’ve said hi! Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I did,” he says, too soft, and it feels like an admission of something when her eyes search his face, for a moment landing on his mouth before putting herself back together. “Up there, it’s like– it’s like you forget everyone else. You’re made for the stage.”

If anything, (Y/N)’s delight only strengthens, tugging at the neckline of her shirt. Jamie finds himself trying to follow the trail of new skin and flushes as well when he catches himself just in time.

“Thank you,” she matches his tone. “You’d think it’d be nervewracking but it’s… silence. In my head. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t.”

“It does,” Jamie agrees, breathless. It’s exactly how he feels when he gets the ball on his feet, every anxiety and worry and part of him he doesn’t like quieting the minute he steps on a pitch. “I get the same when I play. Peace in the chaos, I guess”

(Y/N) looks at him like she’s discovering the world’s eight wonder.

“Kids!” her bandmate breaks the moment by coming over, arm draped around (Y/N)’s shoulder. (Y/N) blinks, looking a little shell-shocked. “Sorry to interrupt this party, but rehearsal awaits.”

Disappointment claws at Jamie’s belly, but before he can let it fester the conversation continues, bubbly and loud. “Alas! We’ll be done around 5. You’re welcome to visit then. We’re going to the third floor, I think.”

(Y/N)’s only amused at her friend’s antics, even if Jamie’s back to having a knot in his throat out of nervousness alone. Jesus, what’s wrong with him? It’s like he’s eight again and crushing on the cute boy that lived in the apartment in front of the Tartt’s.

“See you then?” (Y/N) says, hopeful, and Jamie thinks it’s only fair he’s brave as well and nods as resolutely as he can.

“I’ll be there.”

He ends up having to ask Higgins for directions, after promising he’s not gonna stir up any trouble at least four times. It takes Roy passing by and giving a few reassuring grunts, guaranteeing Jamie’s best behavior before Higgins gives him the location. When Jamie goes to thank him, Roy only points at him menacingly, though lacking his usual frown, and says don’t fuck this up.

Rehearsals are just wrapping up when Jamie gets there, instruments being packed and people saying goodbye to each other when he makes his way into the room. He immediately finds (Y/N) sitting on the piano playing a complicated melody.

She lights up when she sees him, the music seizing. “You made it!”

Jamie stops her from standing up, instead sitting next to her after she scoots over to give him room. “That was nice. A song of yours?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “Hopefully soon. You never know, when you’re writing. You start working on a song and it ends up being a completely different thing from when you started.”

“Sounds messy,” Jamie says, a little consternated at the thought. Fortunately, (Y/N) laughs.

“It is. Do you play?”

“Fuck no,” he says quickly, then tries to explain himself as she splutters in amused surprise. “I mean, I don’t think I can. It seems pretty complicated. I’ve always been better with me feet.”

He reaches for the keys and begins playing some nonsense, loud and offkey, knowing it’ll make her laugh again.

“No, you gotta–” she cackles, placing her hands on top of his and quieting the dissonant echo of the keys. Jamie feels the tug at his lips, insistent, automatic, the same rush of delight that courses over him whenever he’s in her presence. “Gentle. Be gentle about it, jeez.”

She lines up their hands so her fingers move his and begins playing a quiet, fun melody. Jamie’s doing shit other than staring at her face, slightly twisted in concentration as she mumbles the notes under her breath. G, G, G, F, G, B, G, G…

“I know this one,” Jamie mumbles in recognition. (Y/N) turns her head to smile at him, pleased. “‘s from Nottin Hill, innit?”

“And a million other movies,” she murmurs back, unable to break the spell that’s fallen over the room. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic.”

“‘s my favorite film,” he concedes, finding it incredibly easy to be honest when they’re sitting side by side like this, alone, their sides warm against each other. He loves his teammates, but (Y/N) didn’t know him when he was awful and arrogant, too cocky. There’s nothing she holds against him, no standard he needs to meet for her to be happy in his company. “Cried me eyes out at the end. Though I’ll deny it if you ever ask in front of anyone.”

(Y/N) laughs. “I promise I won’t. It’s a good movie. Doesn’t beat While You Were Sleeping, though.”

Jamie’s expression remains blank. (Y/N)’s face falls into disbelief, her hands tightening against his. “You’ve never watched While You Were Sleeping.”

He’s heard of it, but it’s hilarious to watch her forget herself, any sign of nervousness or polite shyness finally out the window. Jamie likes it– likes her, wants her to be comfortable with him and stop holding herself so tightly whenever she’s off the stage.

“You poor, sheltered boy,” she exhales, aghast. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to introduce you to the best romantic comedy ever made.”

Jamie goes to take the opening but stops himself at the last second. He knows this process; the flirting, the leaning in for just a moment so she smells his cologne then pulling away, leaving her wanting more. The asking for a date, a fancy dinner, then taking her home. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, dodging calls until she stops trying to reach him.

He’s been doing it for years. He wants to desperately break the cycle and he wants to do it with her, but does he have it in him? Jamie’s been working on himself harder than he’s worked for anything else in his life, but what if he’s one slip away from becoming his old self? From turning out like his dad?

Sure, the old man’s changed, or– well. He’s trying to. But whether Jamie likes it or not he sees a little too much of him in himself sometimes, and he can’t do that to her. He’s known her for less than a week and he knows she deserves better. Everyone does.

Roy told him not to fuck it up. Maybe this is what he meant.

His expression stutters, shatters, and reestablishes itself in a matter of a moment, a blink of an eye. Jamie knocks his shoulder into hers gently, leaning back into place after a second. He teases: “And who made you the expert, eh?”

Rather than letting it drop, (Y/N) takes the bait just like Jamie knew she would. They stay there until a security guard comes to kick them out for the night, and they talk about everything and nothing. Movies, songs, bands they like, and foods they don’t. Jamie’s favorite players when he was a kid, his hero-like worship for Roy Kent, and how he’s made him a better player, a better man.

(Y/N) shares with him the first time she held a guitar in her hands, the albums she listened to when she was a kid that changed her as a person, realizing she could create magic through words and music. Her favorite cities to tour, how long she’s known her bandmates, how she’d die and kill for them if necessary.

By the time he’s walking into the pitch at Nelson Road two weeks later, the roar of the crowd around him swallowing every other sound, Jamie’s spent every free moment of his time with (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It was unavoidable, helpless as he is in his attraction to her, but Jamie doesn’t know what to do without, as Roy so carefully put it, fucking it up.

It hadn’t helped when (Y/N) snuck into the locker room to wish him luck, showing him the Richmond bracelet she was gonna wear onstage with a roll of the eyes. “Our stylist wouldn’t let me wear the jersey, but don’t you doubt for a second that I’m rooting for you, Tartt.”

Jesus Christ. Jamie had felt his cheeks warm up and dared to thank her with a loud, exaggerated kiss on the forehead that left them both grinning like idiots and Roy staring at them knowingly.

Before Jamie followed his teammates into the field, Roy had pulled him aside with a hand on his shoulder. “Tartt–”

“I know, I know,” he answered a little too self-deprecatingly. “Don’t fuck it up.”

But Roy only raised his eyebrows, realization dawning on his features. “You think I say that because I think you will?”

Jamie mumbled some not-words under his breath and Roy cursed. “Prick. I say it because you deserve good things, dickhead. And you should let them come to you when they do.”

Good things, Jamie thinks after one of his passes gives Dani the first goal of the night. The younger man jumps into his arms while hugging him tight and laughing into his ear, their teammates joining their embrace less than a second later.

He looks towards the general area of the VIP seats where he knows (Y/N) and the rest of the band are cheering them on. He pictures her screaming at the top of her lungs, arms in the air, and being happy for him like she’s known him for all his life.

She might be the best thing. Whether he deserves her or not, Jamie wants her. Wants to be with her, watch romantic comedies until they both cry and spend his free afternoons watching her play the piano while he plays FIFA in the living room. He wants songs written about him that have him blushing whenever he hears them in public and for her to come to his games and be able to dedicate every goal to her he ever scores.

Good things. Yeah, Jamie can get down on that.

“You fucking asshole!” she jumps into his arms the second she finds him on the pitch after the game, a medal hanging from his neck and sweat sticking to his skin. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to care as she lets him lift her in the air, holding onto each other tight. “You did it! You fucking did it!”

“I missed your show,” he replies instead, only a little bummed. He’s seen her play live before but there was an itch under his skin the entire half-time, knowing how close she was and being unable to get to her. Jamie grins. “And stole it, too.”

“There he is,” she teases gleefully. “For a second there I thought you were gonna be humble about this.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” he says cockily.

“And how’s Mr. Man of the Match gonna celebrate, huh?” she wonders, hitting him lightly on the chest now that he’s put her back on the ground. “A fancy club? Getting shitfaced with the boys? A date with your left hand?”

Jamie puts his hand on hers at the last second, stopping her from pulling away. She sways into him, all traces of joking vanishing from her expression. He forces himself to stay on her face, the urge to look away defeated by how she’s looking at him. In wonder, open, hopeful.

She deserves good things, too. Jamie is determined to be the one to give them to her.

“I was thinking dinner?” he asks, fidgeting a little on his feet. “Maybe a movie? Thought I could see what While You Were Sleeping’s all about.”

(Y/N)’s mouth is fighting against a smile, somewhat hesitant still. Jamie doesn’t blame her, he’s been beating around this bush the entire time they’ve known each other.

“You want any company?” she wonders.

“Well, what kind of date would it be if it was just me?” he forces his features into faux confusion, watching her finally lose the battle and beam like a kid on Christmas. Her fingers twitch where he’s holding onto her hand.

“Not a great one,” she concedes, looking like all of Jamie’s dreams. “How do you feel about Mexican?”

Awful. Jamie feels awful about Mexican. He’s a white sexy boy in all the ways that matter and his taste buds punish him for eating spicy food no matter how much he likes it. But he can compromise. He’s starting to realize there’s very little he wouldn’t do for (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

“I feel fantastic about anything you like,” he answers truthfully. “I’m sure me tongue will forgive me eventually.”

(Y/N) laughs, fingers in Jamie’s hold shifting so she can hold his hand. “I think there’s a good lyric somewhere in there.”

“You plannin’ on writing me a song?”

She smirks. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t yet.”

Jamie squeezes her hand, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Can’t wait to hear it, love.”

___

there’s an ache in my bones to make a series out of this fic omg

i can’t believe the show’s over (is it tho????) so here’s some jamie fluff to heal our tender, mourning hearts. as always you’re welcome to tell me what you think and chat jamie and ted lasso as much as you’d like! thank u for reading AND for all the love on my last jamie piece that you can read here!

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

#commissions and asks are open!#leo writes #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #phil dunster #roy kent #brett goldstein #rebecca welton #hannah waddingham #keeley jones #juno temple #sam obisanya #toheeb jimoh #i had so much fun w this i hope i do write more of them #reader insert

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 months

Text

Suspect

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Yautja (Platonic)

Word Count: 2979

Summary: After the attack that left you a mess and marred you skin, We'ar-ow has increased her protectiveness of you. She's constantly has you either in her lap for scent marking or somehow less than five feet from her. You no longer sleep in your own room. Just hers.

Author Note: I think we all know who the suspect is. Said suspect will surely pay for the pain they caused. We'ar-ow will make sure of it. Also, side note, I'm hyperfixating on Marble Hornets and Toby Rogers... again so if I'm slow to post, blame them

Masterlist

Ao3

The tension in the air could be cut with a blade. It latched onto every other form that sat at the council table before her. It was a dreaded, cold feeling that leeched away the heat from the room. We’ar-ow easily produced it all with the intense expression on her face. She stood at the end, palms flat on the table. The last of her words leaving her mouth. Her eyes filled with the fire that burned her soul and created her personality.

No one spoke or dared to move a muscle. Their terror of their monarch palpated through the air. All of their eyes were trained on her. We’ar-ow scanned along the room and waited for someone, anyone to speak up. For a single being to have any sort of clue to what happened and why her ooman was attacked.

A huff surpassed her mandibles. We’ar-ow stood straight up and looked down upon her councilmembers. “Does no one have anything to say? At all? Was no one aware that that sector had gone down, including life support? How could this happen? If any of you have an issue with my pet, grow some courage and come after me,” she snarled then slammed a fist down onto the table.

“I said, does no one have anything to say or report?!” We’ar-ow spat at her group, ready to tear into the closest councilmember until someone speaks up.

Out of everyone, Xilomere was the only one lax yet on high alert. There was a reason We’ar-ow was crowned as Monarch for this clan. A tilted earned, not bestowed. He was ready at only a beck to back up We’ar-ow. There must be order in the clan unless it falls to ruin.

Off to the right, a throat is cleared. Dunkot stands up and nods his head at We’ar-ow. “Monarch, as commander of security, I have no reports to speak of. There hasn’t been anything to be alerted of. I will personally look at the footage we have of the area and report to you of my findings immediately,” Dunkot rasped and met her blazing eyes for a fleeting moment.

One of We’ar-ow’s upper mandibles flinched. “Go now. I want a report within the hour.” Dunkot took his leave swiftly and left a trail of fear out the door. Not that anyone noticed as the room reeked of it.

She looked around the table again, but no one dared looked her in the eye. “Anyone else?” More once, complete silence. We’ar-ow stiffy rolled her eyes. “Everyone out! Be useful or I’ll find someone else to do the job.”

Everyone rapidly filed out of the room besides Xilomere. He stayed and leaned back in his chair, feet thrown up onto the table. “We’ar-ow, this is the most intense I’ve seen you. I’ve got to be honest with you: what is truly bothering you?” he asked the Monarch.

We’ar-ow plopped down in the chair and placed her forehead in her palm, elbow resting on the table. “This isn’t the first attack on the ooman. This time, it was planned. It had to be,” she conferred with him and looked at him with what could be considered pleading eyes. “I will not stand by and let my pet get injured because someone had a problem.”

Xilomere twitched his mandibles and nodded. “Alright. And you know I will stand by your side even if this ship implodes. Now, we have to ask the hard questions. Why would someone attack the little thing? No respectful Yautja would even think of such a thing. And why now? No one had a problem the week after the ooman arrived. No one dared attacked.”

The questions made the Monarch think. An idea struck her. “I know who it is: Dwainet. That little snob of mucus!” We’ar-ow stood up abruptly, ready to mow down anyone to get to the thorn in her side.

The male got to his feet as well and put his hands out. “Whoa, whoa there missy. You can’t do a thing him without evidence.”

C’jit. He was right. Her mandibles were wildly fretting and clicked against one another. She slowly turned towards Xilomere. “I will get the evidence and flay him alive. I will have his head mounted on my wall… no, no. Above my pet’s door, daring anyone to hurt them again,” We’ar-ow stated firmly. It had become fact and not even Paya could challenge her words.

“And I’ll ensure the door is locked so the little gnat cannot escape for even a second,” Xilomere proclaimed and stood by his Monarch’s side. Through thick and thin.

A pink hand rested on his shoulder and gave a firm shake. “I thank you, my dearest hunt brother for your words and backup. I could not and would not ask for a different soul in all my years.” Xilomere smiled at her words and bowed his head.

“My monarch, are something different.” A pregnant pause for their words to settle in fell upon them. Xilomere brushed off We’ar-ow’s hand. “Now, you must return to your pet and ensure their safety. I will investigate myself. I will look into every dark corner and turn over every rock to find the evidence we need.”

Through the haze of her rage, We’ar-ow nearly forgotten about her little ooman pet curled up in her bed once more. A second attack in two days was not a coincidence. Neither was the first one. Dwainet had tried to kill you from the marks of your neck, that was evident. It had failed. An accident she was thankful for. Sorrow would fill her veins as she would mourn over your loss.

In a state of exhaustion yet wakefulness, you jolted when the door hissed and groaned when the movement pulled at your fresh wounds. Sleep had not found you. It felt like it was keeping a twenty foot pole between the two of you. You wanted nothing more than to simply sleep away the pain, to pass out and forget about the day’s event for just a moment. The world hated you.

The brighter light from the main room filtered into the dimly lit bedroom. It was harsh on your eyes, forcing you to bury your face back into the blankets as a shield.

Seconds ticked by before it suddenly hits you. You scrambled to sit up on your knees and reached for the knife that perched on your hip. It’s spot empty. Your eyes snapped wide open. The realization dawning over you that whoever entered could’ve killed you without even struggling.

Everything returned to the low light situation from before you. A sight you were most thankful for. Through the pain that throbbed behind your eyes, you peered up and sagged in relief.

We’ar-ow stood just shy of the closed door, face neutral. Her bright eyes nearly shined through the creeping darkness and scanned over your form. Whatever she found pleased her, the Yautja moved towards you and sat down on the low bed. Her hand reached out, carrying a weight of timidness, and cupped your cheek.

You didn’t have it in you to speak and felt like if one wrong thing was said could set her off. You didn’t need to know the alien long to see the tension that wormed its way into her muscles. Worse of all, you couldn’t tell if you were relieved to see this seething anger about the fact you had been injured or dreadful. Did she care about you or was this just because this posed a threat to her status? You attempted to bow your head but her hand stopped you.

The two of you stared into the other’s eyes, searching. For what? You mentally shrugged.

Whatever held this trance of We’ar-ow vanished and her hand fell away. “How do you feel?” she questioned and stood up. You followed her with your eyes while she moved towards the bathroom but didn’t turn the light fully on. The same dimness filled the space.

Through the lump gathering in your throat, you swallowed it harshly down. “Hurts. Couldn’t sleep.” You rubbed at your crispy eyes and licked at your dry lips. “I probably have a concussion from how hard I was slammed into the ground,” you rasped in a monotone voice.

A short hum came from the bathroom. We’ar-ow exited the connected room with a glass in one hand and a box in the other. Her lethal form stalked across the room swiftly and sat back down on the edge of the mattress. The glass was offered to you. Which, you took her up on it and sipped away at the clear liquid.

Silence engulfed the room to the point you heard your own heartbeat. A ringing began in your ears. We’ar-ow set down the box at your side and opened it up. Medical items were revealed to you. “Turn around.” Her voice gruff with the order.

In the haze and cotton that still filled your brain, you wiggled your body to have your back to face the alien. Warm, coarse hands touched at your shoulder. You couldn’t help the jerk or the gasp. “Calm, little ooman.” Ashamed, you bowed your head and muttered a short apology to her. You hated this feeling of weakness in front of her. Yet, there was nothing you could do in the moment besides cowering in her room.

The thick, sticky bandage that covered the claw marks on your back was pulled off to reveal a nasty, angry sight. You shuttered at the fresh air touching the damp skin.

“Did… did you find out, out who…?” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Her fingertips ran a path down between two of the claw marks. Another shutter raked your sore frame.

“Not yet.” Despite the headache pounding inside of your rattled brain, you picked up on her choice of words. ‘Yet’. She was actively searching for the perpetrator.

In this dark moment of your pathetic life, you needed the light she sparked in your chest. Anything not to wallow in your sorrow and mourn over the day. “Okay,” you whispered, lips barely even opening to let loose the word.

A new silence overcame your voices. Neither of you finding the energy or focus to talk. We’ar-ow worked away though on clearing the fresh wound again and covering it once more. A heavy hand rested on your shoulder after she finished and tugged you towards her.

The Yautja easily turned you around and sat you in her lap, arms mindfully wrapped around your torso. In your vulnerable state, you leaned into her chest. This wasn’t the first nor, you believed, the last time you would sit in her lap. She held you close, like a protective shield against the monsters on this ship hunting you.

“I will protect you, little ooman.” Your heart swelled, needing reassuring words. “You are my pet and no one shall hurt you again.” Then harsh reality crashed down on you. Nothing more but a pet. Your facial expression soured, not that We’ar-ow could see it anyhow. You just stayed, limp against her chest and trying to find sleep in the moment of semi peace.

Over what felt like a week, We’ar-ow rarely left her quarters. Not that she was at your every beck and call. But, the Yautja was mindful of what you needed.

Water for every time your glass goes empty. Three meals throughout the day and snacks as well. The wounds on your back cared for every day. Your tablet had been replaced. All the data lost and forcing you to start from scratch. But, from the depths of your mind, you knew the foundations of your plan and the backup ones as well. You had engraved it. You wanted to go back home, leave this wretched place.

Time passed swiftly over that week. She kept you close, never letting you leave her sight. This included bedtime. Instead of letting you sleep in the room she has given you, We’ar-ow has you constantly nestled into her massive mattress and many pelts. Deep down, a thought you wouldn’t admit, you didn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as her. It was a comfort you had missed, feeling touched starved. Dwainet would cuddle with you every night. With him gone, it was hard to recover.

Today was no different. You had woken up to a gentle shake on your shoulder and the face of We’ar-ow. Said Yautja motioned her head towards the open bedroom door. “Food is prepared. Come and eat.” Then, she stood to her full height and exited.

The door stayed open. An open invitation to follow her out. You stretched out with a big yawn but winced when it pulled at the claw marks. A groan sounded from your lips. You pulled yourself out of bed and meandered into the main area of her quarters.

We’ar-ow had made her way into the kitchen and dished herself a plate. It was set down next to your spot at the counter. You continued your way over to the dish and sat down with a huff. All this sleep made you feel tired and ready to simply pass out again. But with the way your stomach snarled and grumbled for food forced you to follow the scent of food.

It took little time to finish off the plate. A quick thanks was sent to the Yautja. You didn’t move though and stayed perched on the stool. The skin of your bottom lip was gnawed on while deep in thought.

Questions whirling around before you grew enough courage to speak up. “We’ar-ow… are there any updates?” Your voice was meek and quiet in already calm room.

During this entire time, she’s not once mentioned the attacks or who was responsible for them. You couldn’t tell if that increased your anxiety or somehow put it to ease knowing she was handling the situation. Yet, if they hadn’t gotten the attacker, meant they were still at large and could… attack again. They could fulfill their mission.

She set down the clean plate on a drying rack and peered at you. “I am dealing with the situation,” she answered shortly. You knew that had to mean she hadn’t found out. Your whole body sagged, nearly curling into itself as if that could be your shield.

Breakfast was over. We’ar-ow moved over to a couch in the main living area of her quarters and pulled out a tablet device like yours. Your eyes darted between her and the familiar entrance to her bedroom. Her bed practically calling your name.

One the last look at the salmon pink Yautja, you paused and admired her lethal form. Not necessarily bulky or lean. A mix of both. Her tresses hung from her strangely shaped head. A cascade of what looked to rubbery dreads that were all a light black with a hint of undertone brown. Two of her tresses were painted a pink similar to color of her skin.

The middle of her torso was colored a creamy white that started from her neck and down the insides of her thighs and touched the arch of her feet. Purple splashes marked her scales in random spots.

A creature born and bred for danger and death. Yet, here you stood, as her pet, alive and soon-to-be well in her care. You caved into the thoughts that sat in the back of your mind.

Within a few steps over to her, you timidly lowered yourself next to her. It was a strange feeling to crave the touch of an alien that surely didn’t want anything to do with you. But you needed it, like a drug to keep your heart beating.

The weeks have come crashing down on your fragile form in a dangerous world. You craved comfort, touch, anything to let you know it was going to be okay. Because after a near death experience that you endured a week ago, you were ready to collapse and bawl your eyes out. Again.

Her heavier weight caused the couch to dip further than your own. When she shifted, it caught you and dragged over to her side and forced you to be pressed into her torso. The Yautja barely even reacted besides another simple shift of her hips. She continued on with the tablet and let you stay. And stay you did.

The warmth engulfed you. A feeling welled up inside of you, making you feel gross. You should be disgusted or terrified even to be this close to her. The fact you’re not furthered that growing feeling. You were used to be touched by her when she held you in her lap and scent marked you every week or so. This was different than that though.

In a floating haze of being awake and asleep at the same time, you feel the Yautja at your side vibrate with a growl and tense up. Irritation grew in your veins at the fact you were forced to be in a more awakened state. You groaned and nuzzled more into her side, delirious in the moment.

The action caused you to slip down into her lap. Mentally, you shrugged it off. You shifted around to lay down properly on her lap, head resting on one of massive thighs. They were muscle as much as of her body was corded with it but they were still comfortable to lay on.

All of the tension in We’ar-ow’s body washed off of her form. She placed a palm on your head and softly scratched her claws mindlessly over your scalp. An action that had you dazed and on the verge of passing out on the second stroke alone. You hummed and became lax, body completely malleable if need be.

The sounds of the room faded out as you embraced the peacefulness.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x you #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #We'ar-ow

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 13 days

Text

red looks good on you [e.de almeida x reader]

prompt: you find it hot when elisa gets angry on the pitch

author notes: been missing writing for my babygirl elisa 🥳 she's injured right now, so this is me trying to get over the fact she isn't playing with psg right now. enjoy it!

word of the fic: "anger" chosen by the loml @moonystoes

there are mainly two types of players. some are more clean and try their best not to foul anyone. while others are more aggressive. finding joy in not only fouling, but tackling and even obviously yellow card offenses on the pitch. elisa was definitely the second. the french woman had no problem pushing, colliding hard into, or taking the legs right under from her opponent. it was a part of the fun of the game and a way for her to be over competitive.

you didn't mind seeing elisa act like this on the pitch. it's entertaining, that's why she has so many fans. you often tag along with the paris saint germain feminines team when you weren't in classes. living the wag life was fun and you have gotten close to almost all of the girls on the team expect for a certain blonde.

however, sometimes elisa went too far. she would get so angry, her play would get aggressive enough that it showed she obviously didn't care if a red card was put up by the ref directed at her. you knew in the back of your mind when you see elisa starting to push a player a little too much you should disapprove; knowing damn well that if some other player was doing that to elisa, you would not like it. at the same time, can you really be blamed for finding it attractive when her aggressiveness is ramped up.

it's not your fault you have double standards. blame the attractive woman you call your girlfriend.

it's around the 71st minute in the match against lyon. the game has been intense since the first minute with the two clubs being huge rivals in the french women league. players on either side were getting desperate to break the 2-2 deadlock that was going on. sakina has been working particularly hard, but she just keep losing the ball. you remind yourself to buy her some cookies after the match for her efforts.

all the psg players on the pitch are trying to absolute hardest to beat the other french soccer giant. your eyes are glued to elisa as she passes the ball to chawinga who almost gets the ball into the back of the net, but one of lyon's players come in at the last minute. kicking the ball and causing it to fly away from the net. you can tell that elisa is getting more frustrated as the minutes passed. lyon was letting up and she didn't plan to either. putting on the hardest defense she could manage. the expression on her face along with how tense she looked already told you everything you need to know; elisa was about to snap if something happened.

and something did. as elisa was running to stop a ball coming near the psg's goal, she collides with danielle. sending both her and the smaller woman to the ground. danielle is able to stand up quicker than elisa, already ready to shout.

"watch where you're going!" the dutch player shouts out after elisa stands and comes close. elisa looks down at danielle, just narrowing her eyes. the ref quickly comes over to defuse the situation, but the moment danielle pushes elisa, it all goes to hell.

elisa is quick to push her back, sending danielle to the ground. her lyon teammates rush over to defend their teammate. ellie helping danielle up and pulling away from the small crowd of players. it only takes two minutes for sakina to reach elisa from where she was on the pitch. holding onto her as the french player glares over at danielle.

the ref doesn't even lecture elisa before holding up a yellow card. pointing at danielle before pointing at elisa; neither of them were about to walk off scoot free. then the game is allowed to continue on.

it seemed like the situation was put behind everyone as the players put more attention towards trying to score in the last ten minutes of the game. however, you can tell from a far that elisa wasn't over it. this is confirmed when elisa takes selma's feet right from up under her after selma tried to foul eva. was elisa's action out of self defense of her teammate or just her trying to get out some annoyance? we'll never know.

when the ref comes over to hold up a yellow card then a red, elisa acts clueless. throwing her hands up as if she's confused on why the ref is going after her. the rest of the psg players run over to elisa's defense, but it's no use. she walks off of the pitch and into the tunnel so she could go straight to the locker room; ignoring the psg coach who was trying to offer her water.

you just sit back and sip on your drink, watching the rest of the match unfold.

lyon wins with a late goal in the 87th minute, making the score 3-2. the fans in the crowd were not happy and you couldn't agree anymore, but nonetheless lyon came out on top.

you wait for the fans in the stadium to clear out before making your way into the tunnel. not even having to go into the psg locker room as elisa is standing right next to the door. she's leaning against the wall, her usual taper fade is slightly wet. after being sent off, elisa must have showered to cool off her anger.

"i know what you're going to say," she says, leaning off of the wall to pull you close. nuzzling her face into your neck.

"what?"

"that i should control my anger and that i costed my team the game?" she mumbles into your neck. you chuckle before kissing the side of her head.

"i'm your girlfriend not a soccer critic, babes," you say. your words make elisa giggle. she pulls away slightly to look at you. a smug smile on her lips.

"so..?" she says. you roll your eyes at how quickly her emotions can flip; finding that smile on her lips annoying but very attractive.

"so?" you say back to her

"so.. what do you think about it?"

"i thought it was pretty hot," you pull her closer by the collar of her shirt. giggling once you two's noses bump against each other. "yeah?" she says. you don't reply, just pulling her into a kiss.

the kiss only lasts for so long when sakina pops her head out of the locker room. scrunching her nose once she sees what you two are doing.

"have some public decency," she says before rolling her eyes, "elisa come get your cleats off my bag."

elisa pouts at having to stop kissing you, but still what sakina says goes so she pulls away. dragging you along with her into the locker room after sakina.

#elisa de almeida x reader #elisa de almeida #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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lilspooky-doll · 9 months

Text

True Happiness — pt. 1

pairing — Aegon II Targaryen x Handmaid! Reader

summary — All Prince Aegon wanted growing up with the parents he had was to experience true happiness; not happiness from drinking, not happiness from inflicting insults against others but real happiness you can only experience with someone you feel deeply for. Even at a very early age, he believed he was going to end up drunk and worse than his absentee father until she came along to clean up the pieces.

themes — fluff, aegon is a soft boi, language, blood descriptions, alicent using others to fix her problems, brat! aegon, au! aegon, au! house of the dragon, female! reader, clingy! aegon

author’s note — here’s part 1 of True Happiness. i had to split it into two separate parts. this part is more of the starts of their relationship and part two is more of the “adult” parts. there will probably be ‘themes’ / warnings the next part as well so please be on the lookout for those. please enjoy!

ñuha hūra - my moon

ñuha jorrāelagon - my love

part 2

Looking through the shine of a blazing sun, the Red Keep was a marvelous stronghold that housed Kings and Queens of old, experienced the biggest feasts throughout the Seven Kingdoms and protects the very rulers of said Kingdoms. From the outside looking in, it seemed to be a peaceful day with the usual commotion that the royals and the Council lived in. However, this day was anything but normal.

In the dead of the night previously, the great King Viserys had finally greeted the Stranger leaving only his dear second wife, Alicent Hightower, the witness to such a tragedy. With the King gone from this world, the plans set in place by the Hand and his daughter would get to see the light of day and be pursued wholeheartedly — the plan of usurping the eldest of Viserys’ children from her throne and fitting the eldest son to the Iron Throne. Now upon discovery, There’s only one fatal flaw in this plan. Aegon has seemed to have just vanished, almost as if he never even existed with those hallowed walls.

Searching high and low, through the streets of Kings Landing and even down in Flea Bottom, not a single living soul has seen the prince in almost two full sun rotations. His chambers were tidy but empty of a few worldly possessions and some very homely clothes he had requested be made months ago. This abrupt vanishing had caused the Hand to fervently badger his child for answers as if she would know where he went.

“Father, the Cargyll twins and Aemond have been searching for him since we first discovered his chambers empty of him in the early hours.” Alicent flinched as Otto violently twisted his body in the middle of pacing to make eye contact with her.

“If he is gone, all I have done will be for nothing! Do you understand that? Everything will fall and that whore of a Targaryen will be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms!” Otto screamed into the flush face of the now widow seemingly blaming her for the faults of her eldest.

Stepping back a tad bit, Alicent placed some space between them before trying to look back up at the anger beaming down at her. “Well… Why not fit Aemond for the crown? He’s much more adept and would be a much more reliable King than Aegon would.”

The mere suggestion of Aemond caused the cogs in the Hand’s mind to rapidly turn as he began to place the second son in the spots where Aegon originally fit into his scheme. Slowly, a devious smirk stretched the aging wrinkles on his face as it appeared the prince’s disappearance brought a blessing down from the Seven that albeit was going to be much more successful in Otto’s dark eyes.

“Have Aemond fetched and brought back. I believe we have a more perfect opportunity in seeing the second son be the King.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Life at the moment seemed impossible to the Queen. While handling the Council with her father, the Hand of the King and her ailing husband, her eldest son has apparently made it his purpose to deal with his problems. At ten name days old, Aegon has been through at most three handmaiden— each leaving the staff of the Red Keep due to his… antics. Every woman has reported back to her stating that he was the most arrogant brat who had it out for anyone who wouldn’t bring his mother to him.

Granted, Alicent could be blamed for his behavior as she has actively avoided personally handling her son — only seeing him as the end of her friendship with Princess Rhaenyra and the end of her girlhood. On a deep down level, she resented Aegon for what he represented in her eyes since she was only just a pawn in her father’s sick, twisted game. But, she wasn’t the only one to be blamed for why he sought so much attention so often. Viserys had a hand in all of this being that after his second name day, he has refused to acknowledge her boy as the heir to the Iron Throne and has gone to even ignore all of his children outright.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, was all Alicent chanted in her head as she sat in her solar waiting for Ser Criston to arrive with what she deemed her last ditch effort. Picking at the skin around her nails, the waiting made her anxious. She felt guilty for what she was about to do but, she’s at her wits end with Aegon and she hoped that this person would save everyone’s sanity.

A knock disrupted Alicent’s incessant thoughts as she bolted her head to watch Ser Criston open the door and made room for her so-called ‘saving grace’ to walk through. A girl of about two and ten shuffled through between the guard and the door keeping her eyes down at her feet. Once the girl made her way through, she dipped into a curtsy and muttered out a quiet Your Majesty.

Brushing off the imaginary dust on her emerald green gown, the Queen stood up from her seat on her cushioned bench and gracefully walked to set herself in front of the girl. She examined the young child making note of her neat hair that was braided away from her face and the typical clothes that most of the maids wore in the keep: a plain brown dress covered by a sullied white apron.

“Some of the maids tell me that any coin that you have made is sent to your family. Is that correct in their assumptions?” Alicent questioned using her hand to gently guide the girl’s chin forcing her to make eye contact.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she whispered out hoping that was the answer the Hightower woman was looking for.

“Good. I will be upping the amount of coin you receive but, you will only receive the extra amount as long as you stay on as Prince Aegon’s personal handmaiden. If you leave your duties as such, the extra coin will be revoked. Am I understood?”

A sick feeling of satisfaction filled Alicent’s belly as the young girl nodded and whispered out her affirmation. With a pat on the head, Alicent signaled for Ser Criston to lead the girl to Aegon’s chambers hoping that this all works out in a positive way, not ending in another maid gone from the keep to be replaced.

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Pitying looks could be seen from every servant that passed by the guard and young maid duo as if they all knew what her fate was. They all made it seem like she was on her way to the executioner, not to the prince’s chambers. Even with all the looks, it didn’t settle the feeling in her chest, the closer that Ser Criston guided her through the hallways to his room.

She’s heard all of the rumors from the other women and girls she worked with. She heard that the prince played nasty pranks, spoke in vulgar ways to disturb the maid or just flat out made their job living Hells. It was suspected that he did all of this as a way for the maids to report what he’s done to his mother, the Queen in hopes she would personally come to see him. Behaving like that just to receive some sort of attention from a parent seemed like a very sad way to live and no matter what kind of wealth they had, feeling loved was better than any riches a person could have.

As they rounded the last corner before the hall that led to the eldest prince’s chambers, all that could be heard was the muffled yells of an enraged child accompanied by the splintering of wood against the stones. A shaky breath expelled from your lips in an attempt to calm her down. Even though this became a less than ideal position to have in the Red Keep, all she knew was that the extra coin you would receive would go a long way to help out her family. She’s doing this for them, to make sure they have everything they need even if this could all end badly.

Nearing closer and closer, the racket became more and more clear making her more and more nervous. Now was not the time to let emotions control her; time to regulate and wipe any traces of whatever it was she was feeling off of her face. Getting up close to the door, she began to realize that the behavior her young self was going to deal with was destructive.

Just as they reached the door, Ser Criston knocked on the chamber door breaking the noise into silence. After a moment had passed, the knight opened the way and revealed the scene to them. There he was — young Prince Aegon — arms frozen in mid air holding what looked like a splintered wooden chair leg and surrounding him were the remains of said chair, shattered by the stone that made up the structure of the room.

Shocked to be interrupted, Aegon quickly composed himself brushing his silvery blond hair away from his eyes before he decided to lay into his mother’s knight.

“Where is she? Is she coming to finally speak with me?” Aegon pressed Ser Criston, his voice slowly rising in octave and cracking with emotions. “Why is she refusing to see me? I JUST WANT MY MOTHER!”

These were the ramblings of a child desiring affection from someone— or rather someones —who could not spare them any care or love. It was very evident to every soul living within these walls that the King cared for no other child than his eldest, Princess Rhaenyra regardless of how he behaved during Aegon’s first years as only child to his mother. Moreso, it was very subtle but it was becoming more obvious as the prince grew older that the Queen preferred her other children to him.

Unperturbed by the outburst, Ser Criston cleared his throat before speaking, “Her Majesty has assigned a new handmaiden to you. She kindly requests for you to be more pleasant with this one.”

Red began to seep into the pores of his pale face at the knight’s declaration. How could his mother make such a demand through the guards when she so blatantly avoids seeing him at all costs. If she could just visit him on good terms once, Aegon would stop it all; the pranks, the vicious words, Hells even the drinking that he was beginning to indulge in more.

“I don’t care what my mother wishes for me to do. I do not need a handmaiden, let alone a new one to replace the others. I wish for my mother, the Queen. Why won’t she come to visit me?” argued the Prince hoping to receive some kind of message from his mother that meant she wanted to actually be around him for once.

Using his argument as the prompt to leave, Ser Criston turned around, patted the young maid’s head before dismissing himself from the chambers. An uncomfortable silence filled the air as the maid stood at the door with her eyeline directed towards the ground and the prince’s violet eyes stared her down. There was a burning sensation alight on her exposed neck like the prince’s glare was burning through her head and down her spine.

Knowing her place, she never looked up towards his face. She knew that making eye contact with a royal or anyone of status would incur their wrath and they would punish the worker how they see fit. That was something that she would never do unless she was ordered to do so. Just feeling the prince’s stare on her was enough to break down her composure but now was not a time to be afraid; she needed to be composed and do her job.

With a straightened posture and a deep breath, she began to move towards the mess as carefully as possible. Anyone looking in on the situation would think she was approaching a skittish animal not the eldest son to the King of the Seven Kingdoms. It was almost laughable being put into a situation like this and at the same time, it couldn’t have been more dire of a situation.

Slow in her approach, she brought herself to her knees and one by one, picked up the splinters of wood placing them within the linen of her apron. She was careful to make sure none of the wood sunk into the plush pads of her fingers and careful to not warrant any of Aegon’s wrath. Even with the tense situation, she remained as unbothered as she possibly could be and just did her duties as a personal handmaiden to the prince; keep his quarters tidy, keep his life simple and everything should go splendidly.

It was a little unsettling, watching the maid tidy up the mess piece by piece. Granted, it wasn’t abnormal for a maid to clean but it was when they provided an outright reaction to his behavior. Aegon has seen it all; the older ones would try to discipline him like he was the child and the younger ones had a habit of being too noisy. But, this one was the youngest one yet — well he could only assume — and she was not acting like how he expected she would. He was waiting for something— a snide remark, shifty eyes, twitchy fingers— just something that would allow him to scare her away like he did the rest.

Just watching her collecting the broken wood made something bubble in his belly. Aegon couldn’t place his finger on what that feeling was but, whatever it was, it was not a feeling he wanted to relish in. It was a change to the anger and deep sadness that he has been experiencing and he wanted to latch onto them, keeping them close to his chest. In his deep observation, the young royal began to backpedal away from the center of his room making his way towards his messy bed covered in his plush blankets and fluffy pillows.

Violet eyes stayed focused on the hunched figure in her dirty apron and plain maid’s dress. Each piece of splintered wood being collected was like a piece of his anger being neatly brought back to him in the form of something calmer. The process of focusing on her smooth hands working so carefully yet so diligently caused the boiling rage that exploded earlier to simmer down to an eerie calm; a calm that he feels that he only experiences when he’s blissfully asleep in his cozy bed.

The blazing sun of high noon reflected through the window onto the carpets of Aegon’s chambers decorating the floor in fractured iridescence. After being focused on her working form for so long, Aegon’s anger had calmed into a gentle stream of just peace. He doesn’t remember the last time where he hadn’t felt anger towards his treatment from his parents or sadness from only ever seeing his mother at supper time or even when she came to admonish him. It seemed like forever ago when his mother had begun to push him on maesters, the guards or Ser Criston Cole hoping for their teachings to rectify his bratty behavior.

“Your Grace, allow me to take a look at your hands,” a small voice broke Aegon’s deep seated concentration drawing his attention to her delicate face that was honed in on his clasped hands.

Without so much as a fight, the young boy dropped his hands into her outstretched ones. He could feel how soft they felt brushing over the lines and details of his; he wondered how they were so soft considering all the work he knows that the maids do in a day. Soft twists and turns with feather-light touches brushed against the contours searching for something that marred the skin of the royal.

“May I say something, Your Grace?” Yet another soft whisper answered by a noncommittal hmph before the young maid continued, “I hope I am not speaking out of turn but, whenever anger roams free, it could easily turn into wrath. Never allow your emotions to reach that point… Please try to find a way to redirect it by putting more focus into training. The Queen would be devastated if you allowed this anger to fester to the point where you harm yourself accidentally.”

With the end of her advice, she gently folded the prince’s hand back into his lap before she stood up resuming the position she had when she first came into the chambers. A curtsy to signify herself leaving, out she went with the broken pieces of Aegon’s anger and a scent of delicate flowers lingered in the air.

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Weeks have passed since the first encounter between the new handmaiden and the prince and Aegon has tried relentlessly to see if he could rattle her like he did the others. Every little prank, tantrum, cruel words and even the occasional childish attitude was being met with almost a deadpan expression and an unperturbed Your Grace before she would continue about her duties as his handmaiden.

Aegon’s breaking point came much sooner than he thought when she came to his chambers with his tray of food to break his fast in the ambience of the rising sun. As she filled his cup with fresh water, Aegon decided now was the time to see what her problem was; why she seemed so unaffected by his brutish ways when even some of the knights have cringed at his behavior.

“I have done every little thing that I possibly know to get some reaction out of you other than that dead look you seem to have on your face. Every other handmaid my mother has sent my way would’ve been gone by the second insult or the first prank I have played.” Aegon took a second to catch his breath in his ranting before he continued with, “Why are you still here?”

The trickle of water into the metal cup ceased as she placed the pitcher back onto the tray with the rest of the morning food. Taking a moment to collect herself before facing the prince, she breathed out a deep sigh at his words. Of course she should’ve been gone by now but, honestly, dealing with the foolish ways of the boy made her miss her brothers and the wild activities they would do. If anything, working with Aegon made her feel at home oddly enough. The money she was receiving from the Queen could definitely be a motivator for some people on holding their wits but, the handmaiden started to think that the money was starting to not be a main factor in her staying; she actually was beginning to enjoy the extent Prince Aegon would go to try to torment her.

“I’ll be honest with you, Your Grace. You remind me of home, of my brothers who would endlessly try to startle me or torment me in the ways you have. Yes, some of your words were hurtful but, I quite enjoy being your handmaiden. Dare I say, I am beginning to see you as a friend.” She stopped for a brief second looking up into the violet eyes trained on her. “In our short time together, I have come to believe that you are just a boy who is lonely, who longs for a companion that understands you. I wish I can be that for you, Your Grace.”

At her bold admission, Aegon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Someone wanted to be near him, to be a friend to him despite all of the awful things that he has done and said to his maid. His eyes began to blur the image of his… friend and waterfalls of tears streamed down his soft, pale cheeks. For once, someone willingly wanted to be close to him and it made the well of emotions in his body overflow. He was feeling too many emotions at once and it overwhelmed him a bit. Happiness at the admission of having someone on his side. Sadness at wondering why it took so long for anyone to see through the misery he often bestowed upon others. Angry that his mother’s plans for a maid almost as young as he is to fulfill any of his tasks had worked. The flooding of feeling had started to fill in the cracks of his broken self.

Without even a second thought, Aegon in his teary state threw his body at his handmaid’s form wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his streaked face into her shoulder. Startled by the physical contact the prince initiated, she was quick to wipe the look of shock from her face before replacing it with a gentle smile. Her woolen sleeve arms wrapped around the shaking form attached to hers pulling the broken prince tighter in their embrace. Soothing whispers were spoken into the silvery-blonde hair tickling her flush cheek. No response to her words needed to be spoken; Aegon’s reaction was proof enough that he appreciated his kind handmaiden.

━━━━

After that tear-filled day, it became common knowledge that between the two of them, they could depend on the other. His sweet handmaid began to switch out the ale and mead he was consuming increasingly throughout the days with water or flavorful teas that were much more beneficial to his health. Aegon was quick to pick up on the changes and was ever so grateful to have her at his side as a confidant and his closest – only – friend. He actively sought out to spend time with her in any way that he could whether it was having you mend torn clothes in the training yard when he was there or just peaceful strolls through the courtyard when he had time in his busy schedule.

In exchange, the Targaryen prince made sure she had plenty of newer clothes that fit her much more than the old maid dress she usually wore. If it was up to him, his maid would be wearing gowns as beautiful as his sister Helaena’s gowns but she stopped him before he could even give her one. On top of the new dresses and aprons, Aegon made sure that where she slept in the servant quarters was perfect and that there was nothing that could make her sick and unable to enjoy the fresh air with him. Sometimes, he would sneak extra coins into the letters she sent out making sure whoever received the letters would have all the extra money they needed. He even put aside a few gold dragons for her to spend on herself when needed.

It was obvious to the inhabitants of the Red Keep to the changes Viserys’ eldest son exuded. The change for the servants and the guards was a very welcomed one as they no longer had to hear the words the prince would hurtle at people and the pranks that brought misery to many unlucky participants. The council thought of the change as Prince Aegon had started to mature and was trying to prepare himself as heir to the Iron Throne. But, even though many thought of this change as a good thing brought upon them by the Seven, it was hard to ignore the rumors that were spreading.

Of course, many were witness to the first rumor: the prince was almost never seen without his dutiful handmaid walking beside him. Every person who had been witness to this sight could all testify to the fact that every time the prince and maid were caught together, the prince was animated in talking with her and the maid was listening to him with a soft smile etched into her face. Some people have rumored to see them holding hands during walks when the Keep was too busy to pay full attention to the boy of ten name days and the girl of two and ten.

Others whispered that there was something more nefarious going on between the maid and the prince but no one would lend their ear to hear such conspiratorial ramblings. Those odd few always sounded the same; the young girl is a witch and has come to steal away the Targaryen for whatever dark and evil deeds she needed. It was very strange for such a rumor to spread but in the end, it was gossip that kept the maids giggling and snickering every time she moved past them.

Although there were rumors that could damage their reputation, no one could deny how much happiness radiated off of the two of them.

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For a two and ten name day celebration, it was tiny compared to his first two name day feasts but tiny meant that it would all be over fairly quickly without cutting into his evening schedule. Aegon was anxious to leave the hall and make his way to the Godswood where he knew that she would be waiting there for him.

The feast consisted of mainly his family, the council and any of their family that lived within the stone walls. It was very simple and that made Aegon happy; he didn’t need to have a giant name day feast like his half-sister Rhaenyra gets. Simple was enough for him now. No longer was he the young spoiled brat — even though he’s still very young. Now he’s changed for the better and he’s been enjoying the smaller things in life for the past two years.

After waiting for the perfect chance, his mother, Alicent, announces her leave from the feast giving Aegon the opening he needed to escape the hall. He wanted a few moments after she left the sight of everyone before he took his leave as well except he didn’t announce it like his mother — just a silent slip through the hall doors and out into the corridor. The large doors were shut without so much as a little click as it slid back into place. Once he was out of view of all the attendees, Aegon swiftly made his way through the corridors out into the breeze of the early evening air.

The cool breeze coming off of the sea made the rest of his walk more enjoyable as the prince continued on his way towards the Godswood. Leaves rustling in the gentle wind and light slaps of bird wings filled the air around the steps of Aegon’s boots against the soft natural ground. Soon came the sight he was so anxious to see. His lovely handmaid dressed in just a plain brown dress without her normal apron resting against the heart tree with a book in her lap. This was what made the boy most excited about today; spending time with her as she read aloud to them both and Aegon used the sturdier trees as practice dummies.

“I see that you have started without me, ñuha hūra,” Aegon’s words came out almost too cocky but she knew that he meant to be teasing in his statement. “What tales will we be learning tonight?”

A girlish chuckle left her lips at his responses. “They are not tales as they are more history. I thought it would be very fitting to learn about the first of your name, Aegon the Conqueror,” the girl of four and ten paused for a moment before she started back up again. “I’ve noticed that you have been calling me something other than my name. Will you ever tell me what it means?”

A sly smirk stretched itself across the planes of his pale face. “I don’t think I will. Guess you’ll just have to learn Valyrian to understand it.”

At his statement, the handmaid took his words as a challenge—determined to figure out what he has been calling her recently and to possibly be able to speak the royal language to surprise him. Shaking her head at his antics, she looked down at the book in her lap and pulled the cover off the pages to reveal the title page, The Life and Conquest of Aegon I Targaryen.

While his maid got herself ready to read aloud to the two of them, Aegon reached into the roots of the heart tree to pull out a wooden sword he had stolen from the training yard and positioned himself in front of a scrawny tree that was growing only a short distance away. He was far enough that if the sword or the tree splintered, the fragments wouldn’t be anywhere near her but he was close enough that he could clearly hear her angelic voice speak of bloody history.

Readying himself into the proper stance, Aegon began to slice away at the tree acting as if the tree was like one of the practice dummies used in the training yard, like the ones Ser Criston Cole is constantly making him and his brother work on for the hours they do training. Practicing twice a day like this was his way of getting better hoping one day he could surpass the skill of the kingsguard and of course, it was a bonus that during this time, it was uninterrupted moments of peacefulness with his maid — who he was beginning to think of as more than his closest friend.

With wacks and thuds, Aegon let the melodic sound of her voice and the repetition of the wood put his body into a trance. His mind drifted away to sweeter moments than this one where he would confess his feelings to his beautiful handmaid, where he could see a future outside of his royal duty, where he could be free from the scheming eye of his grandsire and live a life like the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. They were dreams that were so far out of reach, ones that would move further away just as he came close to reaching out to them but it never hurt to think of life being more fulfilling outside of the walls of the Red Keep.

From her distance, she had kept reading aloud the passages detailing the life of Aegon the Conqueror finding it all riveting and oh so captivating that Aegon’s form started to blur out of focus from the rim of her peripheral. She was fascinated and consumed that the present Aegon would have to live up to such high standards for his name. It caused a seed of worry to plant itself in her chest just thinking that Aegon had more on his platter purely because he was second of his name and the first was the one to unite the kingdoms. Being so enthralled with this piece of history and her worry, she failed to notice the difference in Aegon’s form; his eyes zoned out and his form was atrocious at best. It appeared that the both of them had the same dazed look in their eyes as their minds drifted away from this reality.

“Ah, fuck!!” A loud curse and the sounds of something shattering broke the dazed states of the young duo. Startled by the noises, she broke her attention from the aged pages and bolted up from her seat rushing over to the prince’s hunched form.

“My prince! What has happened?” she questioned rotating her body to be face to face with him. All she could see was the top of his silver head and his arms tucked into his body.

Looking around, her eyes laid upon the broken practice sword lifeless against the soft, grassy surface. Turning her attention back to Aegon, she gently pushed on his shoulder to reveal his face red with pain and his right hand protectively covered by his left keeping it close to his chest.

“Let me have a look, my prince,” she stated slightly tugging on his hands in hopes for him to reveal the problem.

He resisted shaking his head and clutching his hands tighter against himself. Gritting his teeth in pain and using his hair as a shield, he was hoping she would just leave him alone so he could recollect himself and make himself out to be a man in front of her. Gods forbid if she thought of him as anything other than a man — even though he was in the early stages of changing into one.

The pain was consistent in the deep scratch of his dominant hand after his sword — a pathetic excuse for one — had snapped under his sloppy tactics. So distracted in his painful misery, he couldn’t see that her delicate hands made their way towards his face cupping his flushed cheeks. With her hands lightly clasped around his face, she pulled his head up from his chest and forced him to meet her eye.

Violet eyes met the twinkling stars that appeared to be her eyes. They captivated him on a deeper level like watching the sky light up at night when the moon is hiding out of sight. It was a deeper bond forming between them, a bond that differed greatly to his bond to his golden dragon, Sunfyre. This very moment was working its way to be a pivotal event in their lives and Aegon was doing all he could to soak up her attention and the feel of her hands on his face.

She carefully removed her left hand from his face and used it to remove the protective hold he had over his injured right hand. Pulling apart his calloused fingers exposed a deep gash pooling dark crimson blood around the angry flesh that’s riddled with splinters. The crimson hid the kind of red one would only see when flesh was marred past its original state. Just on looks alone, the wound had to have been painful and she knew that Aegon was trying to be strong about it despite the tears.

Gently and softly, she maneuvered his shaking body towards her previous seat of the heart tree making sure he kept his eyes on her and away from the wound. She helped lower Aegon to the nestling of roots making it comfortable for him as she positioned herself in front of him on her knees. Once she had him situated, she tore a strip of fabric from her underdress ripping it further into smaller pieces; one piece to clean and the other to wrap it until they could reach the Maesters.

“My apologies, my prince. I know this will hurt but only for a short while,” she spoke reassuring him as she placed the injured hand in her lap to pull the tiny splinters out before wrapping it up.

One by one, the pieces were removed being tossed to the soft grassy floor and with each removal, the young Targaryen hissed in pain as he only allowed himself to do that instead of tears.

“Not crying and holding in your pain does not make you a man. Crying shows that you have emotions and are more than capable of being compassionate to others. It releases energy that has been brewing over time.” Her words startled the boy causing him to reveal his unshed tears in his bright, wide eyes.

Wiping his face quickly with his free hand, he snarked, “And who had told you that? Hmm, ñuha hūra? I would presume it was your mother.”

“My father, actually. He would always remind my brothers that crying would never make them less of a man. It made them more of one because they weren’t afraid of being emotional and it helped release anything that was being kept locked away from within,” she retorted, continuing her work seeing as there were only a few wood pieces left before she needed to clear away the blood that kept pooling.

Aegon paused at her words before he sputtered out, “So, you would still see me as a man even if I cried in front of you? You won’t want to be rid of me?”

A giggle broke the delicate planes of her face quickly being replaced by a smile. “Why would I rid you? I feel like you have forgotten that you have cried in my presence quite a few times already, Aegon. You are just a boy in many people's eyes but to me, you are more of a man than some of the men that sit on the Council!”

“Could you say that again?” Lavender fields gazed into starry skies at her words.

“Say what again, my prince? That you’re a man..”

“No, my name. Say my name again. I beg of you.”

Stunned by his declaration, a sigh escaped her lips before she whispered out, “Aegon.”

No longer focused on the pain, Aegon could feel his heart soar like it was flying through the skies and bursting through the clouds. His true companion in life sounded so delectable saying his name. It was an almost tangible taste in his mouth just from her calling his name like that. Of course, the way she initially said it was in every form, an innocent and friendly way but, he’s a growing boy who was beginning to feel the effects of his body turning him into a man. His name was like a drug that now he had a taste of it, he is going to want it always.

A sweet smile contrasted the redness in the whites of his eyes as he gazed at her. “From this day forth, I want you to call me by my name. It’s so lovely coming from you, unlike from everyone else.”

“As you wish, my prince Aegon,” she answered him, causing his heart to soar yet again.

They continued to gaze into each other’s eyes like the sunny day shining down on fields of lavender petals and the stars twinkling in the inky darkness of the night. They both felt a bundle of warmth unfurling in their chests accompanied by the feeling of pure happiness. Being together in this moment made them feel as if they were the only people in all of Westeros and absolutely nothing would tear them apart from one another. In that moment, the friendly love they both shared was blossoming into a love that Aegon was beginning to feel for his beautiful handmaid, a love that she would soon share with him.

Blinking away their locked gaze, a subtle blush graced her cheeks as she brought her focus back down to the wound. She scanned his hand one last time making sure she removed all the splinters that she could find and began to gently gather the deep blood with half of the torn underdress strip. The starch white of the underdress absorbs the sanguine fluid transforming the fabric into its deep seated color. Fully saturated, she removed the cloth, putting it into the pocket of her plain dress and using the other piece to wrap up the exposed injury.

Finished with her work, she sighed out, “Well, we shall make our way to the Maesters for them to fully take care of the wound.”

She stood up from their spot and brushed off the dirt and grass that had accumulated at her knees. Looking at the prince, she could see a dazed look in his eyes and a soft smile that she has only seen him use when she was around — she’s seen peaks of a different yet similar smile when he would listen to Helaena’s bug-related monologues.

Aegon, still dazed and heart thumping hard in his chest, gracefully removes himself from the tree roots standing opposite to her as she lowered herself down again to grab the history book from its nest in the greenery of the floor. Waiting for her to straighten herself out, he held his uninjured hand out for her to interlock their fingers when she was ready to. Even with the wound throbbing in his right hand, all he could focus on was the beauty next to him. The way her hair flowed over her shoulders when she took out the braids she put in it everyday, the light flush that would mark her cheeks when she laughed too hard, or the touch of her soft hands that seemed to stay in its delicate state regardless of the hard work she did.

Interlocking their hands, Aegon refocused his sight on the current situation at hand and started back to the castle slowly making their way back to where one of the Maesters under Grand Maester Mellos could help.

“I do hope you know where we are going, ñuha jorrāelagon. I would hate for us to be lost so late in the evening.”

“Of course, I know where we are going. It’s just a lovely evening to take a slow stroll towards that way, Aegon.” A bright grin filled the lines of her face at her prince’s remark. “And don’t think I won’t figure out what you have been saying to me in High Valyrian. One day, I’ll figure it out.”

In that moment, Aegon was convinced and determined that his amazingly beautiful handmaid would be the only one for him — in life and in death.

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pillow-anime-talk · 10 months

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cheerful and talkative reader.

request: hi, can i make a request? casically it’s some headcanon of how the kamaboko squad, genya and kanao are with a reader who is a very cheerful and talkative person but one day they becomes quieter since another person (maybe another demon hunter) told them that they’re annoying and that they should shut up very rudely, perhaps some headcanon of how they are dealing with that situation when seeing that the reader no longer speaks as much as they learned to love, i hope it is not a bother! have a nice day~

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; fluff; but also a little bit of angst; cute!reader; protective!lovers; frogs mention (in inosuke part); sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. genya shinazugawa, inosuke hashibira, kanao tsuyuri, tanjirou kamado, zenitsu agatsuma {kny}

author’s note: love uuuu!

— GENYA

↘ You are definitely the opposite of your boyfriend – you are cheerful, smiling, always willing to help other peers, you love closeness, you love jokes and you really enjoy spending time with your closed ones. Genya is rather aloof but also short-tempered and is not afraid to raise his voice at someone, dislikes being surrounded by many people and tries to avoid anything that might have to do with human interaction.

↘ It was a sunny afternoon, you had some free time for the first time in weeks; some focused on training like Tanjirou, some went to the nearest city to buy a few things like Nezuko, Kanao or Aoi, some slept for several hours like Zenitsu, and some ran around the forest and chased animals like Inosuke. You also had many things planned; you wanted to clean up, rest a bit and bake cookies with your boyfriend, but you didn’t show up at the appointed place the day before. So Genya went to the Mitsuri residence, who was your master and you her tsuguko.

↘ There he found you sitting on a wooden engawa with a cup of steaming herbal tea and a sad expression on your face. And although your partner has not shown much affection in your relationship, this time without the slightest comment he sat right behind you and hugged you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder.

↘ “We'll talk about it later, okay?” He asked, and you just nodded, slightly tilting the right corner of your mouth upwards.

↘ You knew that the stupid comments thrown at you were just to destroy your day off, but you were still very sad that day – luckily you could count on support from the person closest to your heart and you appreciated it very much.

— INOSUKE

↘ You ran to your boyfriend, showing him a tiny green frog. She looked sick – her delicate skin was dry, but there was nothing strange about it, the valley had been extremely hot for several days, and there was still no sign of rain. Scared, you started asking him questions one after another, hoping that your lover would help you with the sad-looking amphibian.

↘ You’ve always had a loud voice, so your monologue was heard by several people walking towards the pool. You never caused anyone a problem, you were really kind and helpful, but that day one of the Demon Slayer Corps members had a very bad headache, so your voice spreading between the wind noise was definitely not on hand.

↘ “Ey, will you shut up finally? It’s just a stupid frog that doesn’t even know you want to help it.” The teenager looked at you pissed, and you instantly fell silent, looking at the little frog again.

↘ “I-I’ll take her to the pond.” You whispered towards Inosuke and he just nodded towards you. At the same moment you walked away a few steps, your partner approached the boy sitting on the bench.

↘ “Want to make your head hurt even more, huh?!” He screamed, almost immediately causing another attack of health ailments in the young man and, by the way, fear visible in his eyes.

— KANAO

↘ Kanao has almost never been in public and has also never raised her voice before because of her emotions. She shunned large groups of people and the only people she had a very close relationship with were you, the Butterfly Mansion girls and Mrs. Shinobu, as well as Tanjirou, Zenitsu and Inosuke and sometimes Genya.

↘ You and Kanao have been dating for a while; it was a very calm and understanding relationship. You understood her way of being and she understood yours. You two were extremely different, but you had a really good time and you weren’t bothered by her silence at certain moments, and she was never bothered by your cheerful attitude and perpetually smiling face. She considered it an asset and an extremely cute quality.

↘ And she was sure everyone thought the same; you were a really good person and surrounded yourself with a bright aura of love and understanding every day. You were always the first to help someone, you always tried to make everyone around you happy, you often sacrificed your health for work and other people. That's why Kanao was surprised to hear two boys talking, laughing at your childish and carefree behavior. Plus, they called you ‘stupid’ and ‘fake’.

↘ That day, Kanao had a serious conversation with Oyakata-sama, who admonished her not to use the katana if there were no demons around... But he also praised her for standing up for you.

— TANJIROU

↘ Tanjirou was not a person who was drawn to conflict – quite the opposite. He is the calmest and most understanding guy you know; he is always honest and tries to make each party happy.

↘ However, there are two exceptions that cause Tanjiro to release a huge amount of anger, and these are situations when someone hurts his beloved sister and his dearest partner, i.e. you.

↘ The young demon hunter has an excellent sense of smell, so he immediately sensed the salty taste of tears wafting in your little house. He immediately dropped the katana, the basket full of fresh strawberries and mint, and the blanket he had bought especially for you, which you had been dreaming about for a long time. Within seconds he was in your bedroom and immediately turned his gaze to the bed where you were curled up sniffling.

↘ It took him several long minutes to calm you down and talk about how you were treated today by three members of the Corps.

↘ Until you fell asleep, Tanjirou was calm and composed. Until you closed your eyes, he kept stroking your head and telling you about the nice things you’d do together whenever you got more than a couple of hours off.

↘ However, as soon as you fell asleep, Tanjirou got up and left the house – no one had the right to hurt you and the young man was going to make the three people you mentioned aware of it.

— ZENITSU

↘ You and Zenitsu look alike! You are both walking balls of happiness, as long as there are no demons and scary people around. You love to joke with each other, you are always full of ideas and you love spending time together. Since you became close and became a couple, Tanjirou has to guard not two, but three people (and Nezuko, but she is really good and loves her wooden box).

↘ Usually when you’re walking downtown and talking, a lot of people pay attention to you - they usually don’t have a problem with your laugh and even consider you two really cute teenagers in love, however today a little incident happened.

↘ You walked hand in hand along the main street where huge tables with various delicacies and crafts were spread out. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t buy a little snack for the two of you, and in the process made a joke about something that didn’t even make sense at the moment. Your silly joke, however, didn’t sit well with the man at the stall next door, who just muttered something unintelligible under his breath and then glanced at you.

↘ “Just shut up, you’re scaring my clients away.”

↘ “I... I’m sorry?”

↘ “What did you say?” Before you registered exactly what the man said in your direction, Zenitsu immediately hid you behind his body and measured the man in his forties with his eyes. The teenager grabbed the katana, but didn’t take it out. This made it clear to the stranger that there was no point in messing with you, much less the golden haired boy.

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roseghoul26 · 24 days

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Part 1

Javier Escuella x femVirgin!Reader

Synopsis: You and Javier are to attend a party in Saint Denis, hoping to rob the owner of the establishment. Your role is to distract the man while Javier sneaks up to his room, stealing bonds rumored to be worth a good bit. The only problem is, the two of you are pretending to be husband and wife, which would be fine if you weren’t completely in love with the man. Will you be able to muster up the courage to finally confess to him, or will your personal anxieties hold you back from getting what you want?

Tags: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, fem!Reader, reader is described to have longer hair but that’s about it, reader is afraid of intimacy, but like still wants it, unwanted touch (not from javier), unwanted sexual advances (not from javier), non consensual touching (not from javier), basically any noncon stuff is not done by javier, degrading language towards women, first kiss, love confessions, virgin reader, not beta read, angst, unsafe sex

Author’s Note: i know english and german, not spanish. sorry. also i totally wasn’t projecting while writing this ahaha :D

also this was supposed to not have multiple parts but i broke it down into two just for reader digestibility

part 1 ❉ part 2

You were certain that Miss Grimshaw was trying to kill you.

If she pulled any harder at the corset currently strangling you, you’re sure your lungs would collapse. A startled cry left your lips when she tugged again, causing you to nearly topple into her. Miss Grimshaw rescinded with a disapproving nose, roughly adjusting you back upright.

The two of you were in someone's tent, Miss Grimshaw practically pulling you in a few minutes ago with a garment in her hands. You had been on guard duty, and you had seen Charles give you an almost apologetic look as she took over for you.

“You’re actin’ like this is your first time wearin’ a corset,” She reprimanded, pulling yet again at the strings.

You were no stranger to corsets, that was true, but you’ve never had to wear one this tight. Usually they were tight enough to accentuate your figure, but it still was breathable enough that you could move with ease, which was necessary in this lifestyle. This time it was pressed so snug against your body that you feared a sudden movement would pop a rib.

“Not like this!” You snapped, your discomfort causing your fuse to become short.

“Don’t take it out on me, girl. You can thank Dutch for this.”

You scoffed. “Of course. How does he expect me to move like this?”

“That’s the point. You’re not supposed to.” She emphasized her point with another tug, restricting your airflow even further.

“What?”

“He wants you to be the distraction, and the only way you’re doin’ that is if we get this corset on.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know that ain’t true. You know damn well I can distract someone without having to kill my lungs.”

“Not this time. You’re goin’ to a party, accompanying one of the men as their newlywed wife. Your story is that you used to be a working girl, but you’ve now settled down with your rich ‘husband’. You’re gonna distract the man of the house with your assets, and by implying that your new husband ain’t takin’ good care of you, if you know what I mean. Rumor has it that he’s a frequent customer of the local brothels, so it’ll be easy to get his attention.” Miss Grimshaw chuckled lightly. “While he’s taken in by you, your ‘husband’ is gonna sneak up to his rooms, looking for bonds or somethin’. You’re gonna have to ask Dutch or someone for the details. He just told me to make you look… irresistible, which is what I’m tryin’ to do, but you keep complainin’!”

“Sorry…” you grumbled. You weren’t too fond of the plan that was just presented to you. As a master conwoman, you were no stranger to using your body as a tool, using your assets to get what you wanted. But if this corset was telling you anything, it was that you were going to be quite out on display, your breasts barely contained in the garment. You knew you would probably be safe with whoever your “husband” was, but you didn’t trust the other men at the party. You were already mentally preparing yourself for the words you were going to be hearing tonight, and for the possible gropes and touches of disgusting men.

And because you had such little movement, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself as well as you could. The thought of being so defenseless had you shuddering, which didn’t go unnoticed by Miss Grimshaw. “You’re gonna be alright. Besides, Arthur’ll be taggin’ along with the two of you as extra muscle. Lord knows he’d never let anythin’ happen to you.”

“Arthur ain’t my ‘husband’?” You were expecting the cowboy to be your other half for the night, as the two of you had played that role several times as Mr. and Mrs. Callahan. The two of you worked well together, a natural comradery making it a very convincing act. So much so that some of the gang members had even questioned yours and Arthur’s friendship, but the two of you quickly shut those thoughts down. The two of you were practically siblings, and besides, you had your eyes on someone else in camp.

“Not tonight. He said he’ll probably be recognized and wouldn’t be able to be someone else, so he asked for someone else to play the role tonight.”

“Please don’t be Micah,” you groaned.

“Dutch ain’t a fool. He knows the two of you would never be a convincing couple.” You could tell she was imagining you and Micah pretending to be sweet on each other, and she laughed boisterously. “The two of you’d kill each other before you even got to the party! That would be a sight to see, though.”

“So who’s gonna be playing my ‘husband’, then?”

Because your back was turned, you missed the mischievous look that flicked across her face. “That will be Mr. Escuella.”

“Javier?!” The remaining air in your lungs came out in a wheeze, and you started coughing. Trying to suck in as much air back in proved to be a difficult task, and you found yourself growing lightheaded for more reasons than one.

“That’s who I said, right? I recommended him myself; I know it won’t be hard for you to pretend that you’re married.”

“What do you-”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, girl. I know you’re sweet on him.”

“Sure, say it louder so the whole goddamn camp knows!” You huffed, and you prayed that it wasn’t evident that you were blushing. Were you really that obvious?

“I apologize,” she laughed, not sounding sorry at all. “I think the ‘whole goddamn camp’ already knows, girl. Everyone but Javier, that is.” You felt her tug one final time, before tying the strings into a tight knot. Sucking in a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing heart. You were never nervous like this before jobs, but with the new knowledge of who your “husband” was, along with some more personal worries, it was hard to stay calm. Of course you got paired up with the man you’d had your eye on since the moment you joined the gang.

But it wasn’t just being paired up as Javier’s wife that worried you. You had people you could confide in for that, with or without damage to your pride. No, your other anxiety was something that you wouldn’t admit to another soul. The whole backstory that you were going to have, being a working girl, was something that was going to be hard to fabricate because you didn’t have a lot of knowledge in that area. You knew what you had to say and what to do; you were inexperienced, not innocent. You were just concerned that you weren’t going to be able to pull a convincing act, putting you and Javier into danger.

And you were partially afraid that you would have to do some things that you’d never done before, but instead of it being with someone you trusted, it would be with random gross men at a random gross party. You’d never touched someone in an intimate manner before, and the thought of doing it tonight worried you deeply. You knew that Dutch wouldn’t make you use your body in that way, but things happen, and you were always determined to get what you wanted.

You just hoped that it wouldn’t go that far.

You felt Miss Grimshaw pause a moment, smoothing down the back of your dress with her hands. “You know, he’s sweet on you too.”

Temporarily forgetting your personal worries, you stiffened under her touch. “Alright, now you’re just tryin’ to make me feel better. And you’re startin’ to sound like Mary-Beth.”

“I’m serious! You don’t see the way he stares after you, or hear the way he’s constantly askin’ me about you. Trust me when I say he’s sweet on you too.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded.

She muttered something under her breath before she was turning you around, forcing you to face her. “I’m just sayin’, tonight would be a good night to test the waters.”

How were you supposed to tell her that you were scared to get close to him?

“Now you’re really startin’ to sound like Mary-Beth.” You felt her fiddle with the neckline of your dress, pulling it down even lower. You let out an indignant squawk, slapping her hands away. “Any further down and I’m gonna get arrested!”

Holding her hands up, she scoffed and rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. “Now, you sit right here and put these on,” she gestured to the stool behind you, and handed you a delicate pair of deep red heels. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Complying, you tried your best to sit down, but found it quite hard to do so. The corset dug even further into your skin, so you ended up having to do a weird crouch on the stool. It was uncomfortable, but it worked, and you were able to slip off your old boots to put on the new shoes. The leather was stiff, practically brand new, and you knew that your feet would be blistering by the end of the night.

True to her word, she was back momentarily, her arms full of products that she dumped on to the nearby bed. You realized now that you were Arthur’s tent, the canvas pulled down to give you space to change. You’d have to thank him later.

Miss Grimshaw got to work, dusting your cheeks with pink blush and painting your lips with a deep red rouge, which matched the color of your dress. A thin line of black kohl was applied to your upper eye, and you tried your best to not blink as she worked. When she was satisfied with your makeup, she got to work on your hair, pinning it up into a fashionable yet simple updo. Without having your hair to hide behind, your chest felt even more exposed.

The whole process took about thirty minutes, the evening sun beginning to set when you stood. Your mind was racing the entire time, and you were grateful that Miss Grimshaw didn’t try to distract you with small talk. You needed time to prepare yourself, and she gave it to you.

She presented you with a small handheld mirror, and you were finally able to see yourself since the ordeal first began. You had to admit that Miss Grimshaw did a fantastic job at getting you dolled up, a newfound confidence calming your racing heart. The blush was placed in just the right way to emphasize your face shape, and the rouge made your lips look full and plush. Even the updo worked well with your features, drawing attention instead of hiding them.

Taking a step back until you were able to see more of your body in the mirror, and you had to stifle a gasp. Everything about you screamed lust, from the way the corset hugged your hips, to the way it pushed up your breasts, causing them to nearly spill over. The deep red of the dress, like you saw, matched perfectly with your lips, the velvety material pleasant to the touch. Thin black lace lined the sweetheart neckline, the material surprisingly soft against your skin. The black lace pattern continued down the bodice, continuing in places down the skirt, which halted right at your ankles. There weren’t any sleeves on the dress, and you felt Miss Grimshaw place something into your hands: two elbow length gloves the same color of the dress.

Quickly sliding them on, you felt her clip some ruby earring to your ears. She stepped back, a pleased smile on her face that mirrored your own. “I told Javier that it would fit!” She exclaimed, and you gave her a confused look.

“He picked it out. Although, I don't believe he thought it would be this… revealing.”

“He… He bought this for me?” Your cheeks were as dark as the dress.

“He picked out every part of that dress, had it handcrafted just for you.”

You pushed down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. All of this had to cost so much! Instead of facing your heart, however, you put on an air of annoyance, placing your hands on your hips. “So he knew ‘bout this job, but I didn’t?”

She didn’t respond, but the smirk on her lips told you everything you needed to know. “You found out in time, didn’t you? Now,” he clapped her hands together, and grabbed the final item off the bed. It was a small black clutch, and you watched her place the rouge in there before handing it to you. Inside, alongside the rouge you saw a small tooth comb, one you recognized to be a knife in disguise, along with a small handkerchief.

You gratefully took it, tucking it under your arm. You went to try and leave the tent, but you felt her stop you with a hand on your wrist. Before you could register what she was doing, she had sprayed a few spurts of perfume on you, the floral scent ticking your nose, nearly causing you to sneeze. She let go of you then, practically shoving you out of Arthur’s tent, your new shoes catching on the mud.

Blinking away the setting sunlight that blinded you, you were startled when a loud wolf-whistle cut through the camp, causing you to nearly drop your clutch. Sean stood a few feet away, unabashedly staring at you as you walked out of the tent. “Nice fuckin’ tits, lass!” He said it so loud, and if people hadn’t turned their heads at the whistle, they sure were looking now.

You flipped him off, a scowl crossing your features as you marched away. He didn’t get the hint, and you knew that he was trailing after you. “Hey, don’t be like that now!” He was very clearly drunk, stumbling over his steps, nearly falling face first a few times.

Standing at the center of camp, you crossed your arms, trying your best to cover your chest. “Fuck off, Sean.” You glanced around, and you found a few pairs of eyes on you. Some of the looks were kind, like from Arthur and Hosea, who regarded you without any lecherous intent behind their eyes. You heard Hosea comment on how you cleaned up nice, and Arthur, who sat next to him, nodded in agreement. Smiling warmly at them in response, you felt a tad bit less exposed.

“Well that ain’t no talk for a lady. Where's your manners?”

Fighting the urge to shove him away from you, you smiled with malice. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you put on your best posh voice, resting your hand over your heart. “Please fuck off, Sean.” Not giving him time to respond, you stalked over to the other side of camp, where you saw Tilly, Karen, Mary-Beth, and Abigail gathered around one of the fires. Clemens Points had its advantages, the multiple fireplaces away from the men in the center of camp being one of them. You did a quick detour, stopping by your belongings and grabbing a silver ring, tucking it into the clutch, before heading over to the girls.

Wolf-whistles and cheers left the girls' lips, and you put on a little show as you made our way over. Instead of feeling degraded like you did with Sean, you felt confident. You halted in front of them, doing a little spin with an almost proud smile on your face.

“Goddamn, girl! Where’ve you been hidin’ all that?” Karen teased, and you waved her away. “You look incredible!”

“I feel incredible,” you beamed.

“Where did you get that dress? It looks so expensive!” Tilly commented, and you moved close enough so they could feel the material, letting out unanimous content noises when they felt how soft it was.

“Well…” you almost didn’t want to tell them, knowing their reactions were going to be extreme. They knew you had feelings for Javier, and this was just going to add fuel to their conspiracy that he felt the same. “Javier got it for me.”

Stunned silence was all there was, until they all erupted at the same time, questions and comments spilling from them so quickly that you couldn’t even hope to process them. Rolling your eyes, you pulled away from them, your skirts falling back around you.

”Javier bought it?” Mary-Beth was eating this whole situation up. “Does that mean… are you two…?”

“No. He was just being nice.”

The girls gave each other knowing looks, and you watched as Karen rolled her eyes, and Mary-Beth gave you a disbelieving look. “Now, I know you ain’t dumb, but you’re makin’ it really hard to say that,” Karen muttered, and you scoffed.

“I’m serious! He was just being nice, nothin’ else!”

“Sure,” Tilly laughed. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

You glanced over at Abigail, the one person who had yet to say anything yet. “Abi, please, tell them.”

She sighed, setting the embroidery that she was working on in her lap. “Well, it’s not a simple friendly gesture to buy someone a dress like that…”

You groaned. “You were supposed to be on my side.”

Abigail just shrugged, barely able to hide a laugh. “Did he just buy the dress, or…” she gestured to your earrings.

Whatever expression that was on your face was a sufficient enough answer for the girls, who in turn began to laugh. “So, not only did he buy you a beautiful dress, but he also bought you earrings? He’s in love.” Mary-Beth said in almost a sing-song manner.

“He is. Don’t you dare try to argue otherwise,” Karen threatened.

“I…” you trailed off, defeated. “Even if he is, nothin’ is gonna come from it! Don’t get those ideas in my head!”

“We are doing nothin’ of the sort. We’re just stating the facts.” Tilly’s eyes flicked to something behind you, and you watched her playfully smile. “But if you don’t believe us, why don’t you go ask him?” She pointed behind you, and you turned your head. Javier was indeed there, but luckily his back was turned to your group, in the middle of a conversation with Dutch and Hosea.

Even from the glimpse you got, you knew he was dressed up well, a black blazer fitting tightly to his form, accentuating his shoulders and tapering down nicely to his waist. His pants matched color wise, and were just as tight as the jacket, doing little to hide the thick swell of his thighs, and his ass-

Someone clearing their throat had you turning your head back around, finding a group of amused girls waiting for you. Karen produced a handkerchief, practically throwing it at you. “For your drool,” she smirked, and you felt your ears burn. You hadn’t meant to be that obvious with your ogling.

“Shuddup,” you threw the cloth back at her, and she laughed uproariously, the other girls joining in as well.

“Why don’t you tell him?” Abigail asked, a sincere curiosity in her question. “You’re obviously both taken with each other, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Rather you get your heart broken and know then spend the rest of your life wonderin’.”

“I-I’m not quite sure. I’ve never had a relationship before, and I guess I’m just scared of them, I guess. I don’t wanna do somethin’ wrong. And besides, he’s a ladies man, suave, a charmer. And I’m just… me. I’m rather boring compared to him, and I don’t wanna make him feel, I dunno, trapped with me.” You weren’t quite sure how to explain to the girls that you feared he might find your lack of experience unappealing, how he would want someone that could keep up with him. Additionally, you felt ashamed to admit your fear of intimacy after hearing your entire life that it was something you should want. And you do want it, but you couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

“Just do somethin’ before you can’t, alright?”

You watched again as Tilly looked behind you, nudging Mary-Beth who sat beside her, and the two of them shared a look. “What?”

“Oh, nothin’,” they smiled, yet they kept their eyes locked behind you.

“Please don’t tell me he’s comin’ over here.” Their responding giggles told you that, yes, Javier was indeed making his way toward your group.

“Do not say anythin’. Especially you,” you pointed at Karen, and she held up her hands in defense.

“Hey, I’m just sick of seein’ the two of you dance around each other.”

“We are not-” you pinched the bridge of your nose, annoyed. “Why does everything keep thinkin’ that?”

“Because we’re not blind. Now,” Karen did a spinning motion with her finger, “go greet your ‘husband’.”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw that he was only a few feet away, a warm smile gracing his features when you made eye contact. You reciprocated, trying your best to not look as nervous as you felt.

As you did a quick scan over his body, you felt your heart rate pick up. He looked good, which he always did, but even more so now. Wearing a simple white button up under the black jacket, you saw ruby cufflinks peek out, and you noticed some more details now that he was closer. The inside of the jacket was a deep red, similar to your dress, and was made of a very fine looking silk, and his usual red necktie was around his neck. A gold pocket watch hung from his vest, and you were shocked when you noticed that it looked exactly like the bodice of your own dress. Upon closer examination, you realized that it was indeed made out of the same fabric of your dress.

By this point he had reached your side, standing close enough next to you that could feel his heat, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. You were glad for the dimming light, as it made it harder to see the darkening of your cheeks. If this is what your reaction was to him simply standing next to you, then you had no idea how you were going to react when he was pretending you were his wife.

“Hello, Javier.” Was your voice shaking? You’re certain it was.

“Hello, ‘wife’,” he winked, laughing when you scoffed. Thankfully he didn’t seem to catch the way you blushed even deeper. “Good evening, ladies,” he nodded to the other girls by the campfire. They responded in unison, but you noticed that Javier didn’t pay them much mind, his eyes only on you. “You ready to go?”

When you nodded, he held a palm up for you, which you grasped gently in your gloved hand. And because of course he had to, you watched as he bowed slightly, kissing the back of your hand with soft reverence. He kept his eyes on yours the entire time, making the act feel more intimate than it was. He’s just playing the part, calm yourself. Forcing down the panic, you watched the edges of his eyes crinkle when you giggled lightly, a smile on his lips when he stood upright. You felt him keep his grip on your hand, tugging you away from the girls, who called on you to have a good night between giggles.

As Javier led you away, your hands interlocked, you felt him lean close to you. “Do you like the dress?”

You secured the clutch under your arm. “I love the dress! Thank you, Javier. For everything,”

He shrugged with an uncharacteristically bashful smile, but it was quickly replaced with his usual confident one as he leaned closer to you again. “You look beautiful, mi amor.”

You’d heard him use that last phrase with you before, its frequency increasing over the last couple of months. You had no idea what it meant, and every time you asked he would change the subject. Even when you asked the others around camp, they refused to tell you, a look on their faces that you couldn’t quite recognize.

“So do you. I mean, you always do…”

“Do I, now?” You could hear the smugness dripping from his voice.

“Oh, hush,” you shoved him with your shoulder, finding yourself barely able to move the man as you slowly walked, still getting used to your new shoes. You hadn’t meant to say that much.

“No, no, tell me more,” he laughed, and you shook your head, laughing as well.

“I ain’t inflatin’ your ego any more, Mr. Escuella. I’m sure someone else will do that for you.”

“Sure. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Nope.” You emphasized the p sound with a pop of your lips. “My lips are sealed.”

With his free hand, you watched as he placed it over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me. I thought you loved me.”

His comment had you panicking, but you hid it behind a laugh. Did he know? Did someone tell him? Oh God, please don’t let him know.

He continued, unaware of your current inner turmoil. “My ‘wife’, refusing to compliment me. It’s outrageous!”

Right. He was just playing into the role again. With an inaudible sigh of relief, you were able to calm your thoughts. “Well, if our backstory is to be believed, then there ain’t much to compliment you on.”

Javier barked out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s the story we’re running with, aren’t we. Rich husband and dissatisfied wife.” The mirth in his eyes dissolved into something more serious, something more… amorous. “It’ll be a hard role for me to play, because I could never leave you unsatisfied.”

“What do… oh.” You were at a loss for words, and the intensity of his gaze had you melting. It wasn’t the first time that Javier had flirted with you, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time he’d ever teased the idea of the two of you being intimate. It’s not that you were fully opposed to the idea, but it scared you. Actually, it terrified you. Throat suddenly dry, you cleared it, no doubt looking quite taken aback. “Well, I-”

“Oh, so he gets treated kindly, but I get told to ‘fuck off’’,” Seans loud complaining had you snapping your head to the side, the moment between the two of you shattered. You hadn’t even realized you were back in the main camp, too engrossed in your conversation with Javier.

Glaring at the red haired man, you flipped him off again, and you heard the man beside you chuckle. “And I’ll say it again. Fuck. Off.”

“Y’know what, lass, I’ve tried bein’ nice-” “Complimentin’ a woman’s tits ain’t nice, Sean.”

Anger flashed across his features, and he started making his way toward the two of you, still as drunk as he was moments ago. Stiffening your shoulders, you braced yourself for confrontation, balling your free hand into a fist. Sean’s attention was momentarily taken off you, his eyes going behind you. Whatever he saw must’ve frightened him, his normally pale face going even paler. “I- Well… have a good night then.” He quickly scurried away, leaving you very confused. Glancing back at Javier, you failed to notice him tucking his knife away, hidden under the layers of clothing.

“What was that all about?” You asked him, falling back into a casual stance. He shrugged, and you grinned. “Guess I’m just that scary, then.”

“Oh, yes. You’re terrifying,” he jested, sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Hey!” You slapped him on the shoulder, and he snickered. “I’m plenty scary. Have you seen me with a knife?”

“Honestly, I’m more scared of seeing what you’ll do to yourself than anyone else.”

You scoffed, but you were still smiling. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to teach me.” You definitely weren’t coming up with an excuse to be with him more, and you definitely weren’t coming up with an excuse to watch his dexterous fingers work their magic with a blade.

Javier had a soft look on his face. “I guess I will, then.”

The rest of your short walk to the edge of camp near the entrance was done in easy silence, and you were about to ask how exactly you were getting to the party, but it was answered when you saw a two-horse carriage pull into the camp, with a very discontent looking Bill atop it. He stopped a few feet from the two of you, annoyance evident in his body language.

“What kind of party are we goin’ to that we need a carriage? And how the hell did we get one?”

“An expensive one. And you’re asking a group of thieves how they got their hands on a carriage?”

“Fair point,” you laughed, laughing even harder when you saw how absolutely ridiculous Bill looked. He was dressed in a suit as well, but it was very clearly a size too small, the pants riding up far enough to expose what felt like half of his lower leg. A large top hat sat on his head, with a single, meager looking feather sticking out of it, bent in all the wrong directions. A scowl crossed his face when he saw you laughing, and you tried to hide it behind your hand.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” you gestured to his whole getup.

“Ain’t my fault the old driver was short. And don’t go laughin’ just yet, I’m the one gettin’ you to the damn party.”

“You’re right. My apologies,” you sighed. “How ‘bout this. To make it up to you, I’ll see if I can’t steal some whiskey. The expensive stuff.”

You saw that he pretty much immediately made up his mind, but he still took the time to think, just for the sake of it. “Fine. But I don’t wanna hear another laugh from you.”

You nodded as Javier brought you to the side of the carriage, opening the door for you. Helping you into the carriage with the hand that held yours, you quickly sat down, adjusting the skirt to rest comfortably around you. There wasn’t much you could do for the bodice, the frame of it digging into your skin, but you refrained from grimacing. You expected Javier to follow in after you, but he didn’t, simply stepping back and slowly closing the door.

“You ain’t gettin’ in?”

He shook his head. “Not just yet. I gotta go talk to Arthur before we set off.”

In all honesty, you had completely forgotten that your friend was accompanying the two of you. “Is he riding in here with us or…?” The carriage was big enough for two, and you’re sure you could squeeze a third person in if you tried hard enough.

He shook his head again. “He’ll be riding behind us on horseback. He’s security, after all.”

Nodding, you settled back into your seat, at least as best you could. “All right. Well,” you shooed him, “I won’t hold you up any longer.”

Smiling gently, he closed the door, lacking shut with a soft click. It was eerily silent within the carriage, and you were sure that you could scream, and no one outside the carriage would be able to hear you. All the sounds from outside, from the chirping of crickets to the water lapping at the shore were silenced, leaving only your labored breathing and your thudding heart.

Glancing out the window, you were able to see the receding figure of Javier, most of his form indistinguishable in the dimming light. Like every other time you interacted with Javier, you were going back over the conversation in your head, overanalyzing everything that you said and did, pinpointing moments where you should’ve said something different, or just kept your mouth shut all together.

But now you found yourself thinking over what he said. You were replaying the moment where he called you beautiful, following it up with that one phrase that, whenever he said it, had a look in his eye that almost seemed like… longing? You weren’t quite sure.

The sincerity behind his words had you temporarily questioning everything that you knew about your relationship with the man, but you quickly pushed those thoughts away. You were scared, to be honest, to imagine the two of you as anything more than friends. Because what if you were better off as friends, a romantic relationship ruining whatever connection you had. What if he found you boring, or he grew to disdain you?

Why couldn’t things be simple? Why were you so scared of getting close to him, so scared of him touching you? Why couldn’t you be more confident and straightforward with your advances? Why couldn’t you just tell him how you felt and hope it all works out?

Groaning, your head rolled back, hitting the wall of the vehicle. You still watched him, a black silhouette that had his back turned to you, deep in conversation with Arthur, who was standing next to his horse.

The click of the door had you snapping out of your thoughts, straightening up immediately. Javier greeted you with a small smile as he climbed in, stopping mid-way when he heard Arthur shout something at him, which you weren’t able to make out. Javier rolled his eyes, and you thought he was blushing for a moment, but you played it off as a trick of the light.

“What did Arthur say?” You laughed as Javier settled into his seat across from you. The carriage was large enough to fit two people, sure, but you still felt his knees brush against yours. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, nearly causing you to jump.

“He was just being a fool. It doesn't matter.” He clearly didn’t want to continue talking about it, so you let it drop, ignoring the curiosity nagging at you. “Are you ready?”

As I’ll ever be. “Yes.”

In response, you heard him knock loudly on the window, signaling for Bill to start moving. The carriage suddenly moving caught you off guard, causing you to fall forward. You caught yourself, your hands on his knees. You didn’t hear the light gasp that came from Javier, smiling sheepishly as you righted yourself, placing your hands back on your lap, securing your clutch there. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His voice was breathless, and you figured that he was nervous as well.

“So, tell me about this party.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was about a twenty minute ride to Saint Denis, where the party was being held. It was one similar to the one Arthur, Dutch, and some of the others went to a few weeks prior, happening in one of the extravagant houses that lay on the edge of the town. The owner of the house, one Lee Edward Reginald III, was known to have bonds that he constantly bragged about to anyone who asked, apparently worth a fortune.

The two of you formulated your story during the drive. Your names were William and Anna Howard, and the two of you had been married for two years. Hailing from a small town east of New Austin called Fairington, the two of you had stuck it rich when you found a vast supply of oil under your homestead. The two of you had traveled all this way to hopefully establish business partners in the west, and to begin creating a name for yourselves in the more “civilized” Saint Denis.

You saw a wooden sign that marked you were close to Saint Denis, and you felt your anxiety begin to return. Trying to calm yourself, you repeated in your head that this was no different than any other con job you’ve done, and you weren’t nervous before those. This should be no exception.

“So, how did we meet?” Javier’s question halted your spiraling.

“Hm?”

“How did we meet? Someone’s bound to ask.”

“I think the story Miss Grimshaw told me is that I used to be a working girl, and we met at the bar when I tried to offer my services.”

“Not too different from how we actually met, no?”

You laughed. “The only similarities between our stories is that we met at a bar. From what I remember, you tried to rob me as I drank alone.”

“I thought you were an easy target. I was mistaken,” he rubbed the side of his face where you had punched him all that time ago. “And I didn’t realize you had robbed me until way after.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever returned that ring back to you. How many months ago was that? Seven? Eight?”

“Something like that,” he smiled, reminiscing over your less than pleasant meeting. You’d joined the gang not long after, Javier having recommended you to Dutch himself. If anyone could rob a member of the Van Der Linde gang and get away with it, they deserved a place with them.

“That reminds me…” you reached for your clasp, pulling out the ring you grabbed earlier. You almost wanted to slide the ring on his finger yourself, but instead you held it out to him in your palm. “A married man’s gotta have a ring, right?”

Gingerly taking it from your hand, you watched him examine it in the low light, shock causing him to laugh lightly. “You still had it? I would’ve thought you sold it already.”

You shrugged. “I just kept forgettin’ to sell it.” The truth was that you couldn’t bring yourself to sell it, always tucking it away whenever you’d bring your haul to the fence. Eventually, you just kept it with your small pile of belongings in the small lean-to tent you shared with some of the girls, a small token to remember him by. You’re not sure why it meant so much to you, but it brought a smile to your lips every time you saw it. “You can keep it, after we’re done.”

“No, you earned it. I’ll make sure you get it back.”

You held back a sigh of relief, having grown surprisingly sentimental toward the piece of jewelry. “So, how long did it take you to notice it was gone?”

“An embarrassingly long time,” he rescinded. You weren’t satisfied with that answer, and you raised a challenging brow at him. He sighed. “About ten minutes after you left.”

A loud bark of laughter left you. “I took it from you right as we started talking! And we talked for, what, half an hour? It took you that long?”

“In my defense, I was distracted.”

“How? If I remember, you weren’t even drunk.”

“All my attention was on the gorgeous woman in front of me. Someone could’ve held up the place, and I wouldn’t have even noticed.”

“Sure, I looked real pretty,” you rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “With the mud in my hair, and the scraps I was wearin’, I’m sure I was the prize woman of the town.”

“You didn’t have mud in your hair,” he laughed. “It was on your face.”

“Oh, that's much better, then.”

He laughed, his mustache following the movement of his lips as he smiled. “Even if you were covered in dirt, or if you were dolled up like you are, I’d still think you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” It was now that you wished he was sitting next to you, rather than in front of you, just so you didn’t have to feel his eyes on you.

“Really?” It sounded less confident than you’d like, sounding more like disbelief than anything. You knew you were pretty, but to hear it from him made you believe it with full certainty.

“Would I lie to you?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. When you shook your head, you felt him gently grab your hand, holding it palm-up in his own. Instinctively, you pulled it away, and you immediately regretted it, even more so when you saw the hurt and confused look on his face.

“I…” you swallowed, shame burning your face. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “You confuse me. I can’t tell if you want me too, or if you’re disgusted by me. I honestly cannot tell.”

So he did feel the same. Swallowing, you mustered enough courage to set your hand back in his. “I do want you, Javier. I really do. It’s just… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet it sounded like you were shouting to your ears.

“What are you scared of?” His question wasn’t judgemental, simply wanting to know.

“It’s real stupid,” you sighed, no longer being able to look him in the eye.

“Mi amor, look at me. Please.” When you did, he smiled reassuringly at you. “Tell me. I want to help you.”

God, why was he so sweet? And how was he able to crash down the walls you build up in your mind, to never tell another soul about your fears? You turned your hand so that you could grasp his fingers lightly. “I’m scared of this,” you shook his hand. “I’m scared of your touch. And I’m scared of changin’ what we have.” When he started pulling his hand away, you gripped his hand tighter, keeping him there. “But I want it so badly. And I want you, so, so badly. ”

He certainly looked confused now. “I’m trying to understand, I really am, but…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing.

“It’s like, whenever I feel your hands on me, my heart is elated, but my brain freaks out, and not in a good way. And I guess I’m afraid that you ain’t gonna like what you see when you get close to me.” Both physically and personality wise. When you were met with silence, you were mentally berating yourself for practically dumping your issues on the poor man. “Look, if this just changed the way you feel, I understand.”

“I never said that. It doesn’t change anything.” His words were short, but he wasn’t angry. “But I guess I’m just curious as to why?”

“Because I-”

A loud rapping on the glass cut you off, and you jumped slightly. Bill stood on the other side of the window, looking pissed off. It finally occurred to you that you had reached your destination, the carriage long since halted. With a sigh, Javier leaned back, pulling his hand away, giving you a look that says we’ll finish this conversation later.

As he got out, your mind was reeling. He felt the same way towards you, but you didn’t know if you should feel elated or terrified. You didn’t know what was worse, having feelings for someone and them not knowing, or having feelings that were reciprocated and being too afraid to do anything about it.

Sighing, you barely noticed him holding out a hand expectantly to you. You hadn’t budged from the carriage, pretty much forgetting about the party. Sucking in a breath, you took his hand, letting him help you out.

The heels of your shoes clicked pleasantly against the cobbled street as your feet made contact with the ground. Looking around, you saw that Bill had parked the two of you a block away, giving you plenty of time to prepare yourselves.You could hear the music from the party already, a lively jig mixed with laughter and cheers. Waving goodbye to Bill, he left the two of you alone. Quickly, you took out the rouge, applying it to your lips with practiced movement, not even needing to look in a mirror. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Javier watch you, looking away when you focused your attention on him.

Tucking the clutch in your hand, you took in a deep breath. “Arthur’s already there. Ready?” You heard the man beside you ask, and you nodded. He began to move, resting a hand on the small of your back to lead you, before almost immediately retracting it.

“Are… Is that alright?”

“It doesn’t matter right now. We’ve got a job to do.” Javier opened his mouth, ready to protest, but you cut him off. “I appreciate it, I really do, but right now we just gotta pretend that the conversation we just had didn’t happen.”

Nodding, you felt his touch return, but not where it was. Instead, you felt him link his arm through yours, and he continued to lead you toward the party. “You’re almost worse than Arthur, refusin’ to touch me anywhere else than my arm.” You joked, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Does he know?”

You shook your head, and the two of you fell into a semi-uneasy silence. You could tell that Javier was overthinking things. “Don’t worry too much, Javier. I knew what was going to happen tonight. Do what you need to do in order to pull a convincing act.” When he didn’t respond, you glanced over at him. He smiled back at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You leaned in to him. “You do remember I said I did want your hands on me, right?”

He relaxed a bit. “I do.”

The two of you were growing closer to your destination, the music growing louder and louder. “I think the only reason why I’m scared is because it’s… unknown to me. You know when you’ve never done something, and it seems terrifying, and then you do it and it turns out it ain’t all that bad? That’s what it is.” You took a moment to breathe. “So, basically what I’m tryin’ to say is I’m alright with you touchin’ me tonight. Please.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “I trust you, Javier.”

Deep brown eyes peered into your eyes, looking for any uncertainty. When he found none, he relaxed even further, and you watched as the smile now reached his eyes. “Only tonight?”

There he was. There was the confident, flirtatious man you’d fallen for.

You laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Escuella.”

He tsked, shaking his head. “I don’t know a Mr. Escuella. Are you cheating on me, my dear wife?”

You dramatically gasped in horror. “I would never, Mr. Howard! You insult me by merely suggesting the idea!”

The two of you fell into laughter, and you felt the hand around yours move back to your back, rubbing soothingly there. For the first time, you felt yourself not immediately wanting to jump away, and you instead settled against him.

As the two of you walked into the party, you ignored the eyes that immediately jumped to you, eyes racking over your body in a less than kind way, from both men and women. All that you could see right now was the soft way Javier regarded you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Pressing yourself against him so that he was holding you in a side hug, you felt him brush his lips atop your head, so lightly that you would barely call it a kiss. But the gesture had you melting, nearly turning into a puddle on the floor.

You saw Arthur out of the corner of your eye, in the middle of a conversation with some rich looking folk, and you regarded him with a small smile, and it barely even noticed by the other man. The hand on your back tugged slightly, pulling you alongside Javier as he led you toward the group with Arthur in it. Javier introduced himself, and you shook hands as well, introducing yourself with the names you’d come up with.

As Javier talked, you found yourself zoning out, too distracted by the hand on your back to join in fully on the conversation. You failed to notice the way that the other men, besides Arthur, ogled you unabashedly, and you felt his hand curl around your waist, fingers wrapping around your waist and pulling you tighter to him.

Despite what you thought, you found that you were at ease, not even a hint of feeling uncomfortable. A warm feeling settled in your chest, something that you always felt when you thought of Javier. But it was turning into an inferno, threatening to consume you, taking over every thought and feeling in your body.

You were so in love with him.

Before you could even register what you were doing, you rested your hand on his back. Javier was clearly not expecting this, based on the way he stiffened, but you felt him relax instantly. You could hear the way his tone changed as he talked, barely able to fight a smile.

But what shocked you the most is that you found yourself wanting more. And you wanted it now. Every nerve in your body craved his touch, and you were finding it harder and harder to detach yourself from him. And you were supposed to pretend that you didn’t want him?

It was going to be a long party.

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