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reiderwriter · 8 months

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More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

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jaylaxies · 7 months

Text

TIDES AND TEMPTATION

PAIRING: siren!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, angst, mentions of kidnapping, pirates, war, blood, sirens and mer-people, mentions of nicknames, cunnilingus, breeding, unprotected sex, underwater kingdom.

WC: 5.2k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: happiest birthday to my love @celeste-hoon this one’s for youu <3 also hihi, angels! we’ve finally reached the last fic for this year’s kinktober! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

The sound of waves crashing against one another, the sudden buzz of urgent chatter and running, and the burn of ropes digging into the flesh of your wrists woke you up from your uncomfortable slumber of unconsciousness.

It was bright, albeit the lack of sunlight as the clouds covered the sky. You blinked once, and twice before realizing exactly where you were, your mind reeling back to what had happened over the past one day—or more. You weren’t aware of how long you had been knocked out for.

You remember going out with your friends at the sea shore, your peace interrupted by the sudden screams, the pain following soon after you saw the group of pirates trying to capture everyone in the vicinity, you weren’t an exception.

Your cries were ignored. Fighting back was of no use as they easily took control, using the rope to tie you up as they carried you into the massive blue coloured ship, your body too tired to keep up, falling limp till you reached here.

You were on the deck, tied up with a lot more people who were just as panicked if not more, yet you couldn’t spot any of your friends. The pirates were in a rush, their swords out and a sweet melody lingering in the air despite the bloodshed filled atmosphere.

You cried out, not sure as to who the pirates were fighting, but it seemed as if everyone was suddenly in a trance, which kept on breaking and emerging again as they attacked the other force.

Suddenly, a guy rushed to where you were tied up, cutting your ropes and pulling you up as you struggled against his grip, tears flowing down your cheeks with the chaos around you, no energy left in you.

The ship wasn’t in control anymore, the waves overpowered the balance, the sweet melody in the background loud enough to put you in a trance, your eyes shifting from the blue of the water to the sea cave which shone bright, embedded with the prettiest set of stones you had ever seen, along with the creatures you didn’t know existed till date.

You weren’t sure what you felt as the ship flipped completely, the screams muffled as you came in contact with the water, your eyes closing as you failed to try to swim, the coldness of water making it harder.

However, you were pulled to the side by someone, your eyes barely open to take in the sight of what looked like a tail, its scales mixed with a palette of blues, dark greens, slightest shades of purple and pink merging together to form a luminescent look.

Your eyes closed shut yet again, and the creature took you deep inside the siren caverns, helping you up on the flat surface of the emerald rock, looking at you with dark, curious eyes.

You were far from the water where the bloodshed had taken place, the pirate crew along with the prisoners long gone, devoured by the mer-people, who once looked like the prettiest entities on earth, now seemed to be no less than demons with their claws out, sharp canines on display as they munched on their new food source.

But not the siren who was with you.

He looked ethereal with the white glow around which illuminated his figure, one strand of his dark hair braided intricately, tiny flowers adorning them as he looked down at your unconscious figure with a slight tilt of his head, holding himself up on the rock, letting his tail rest in the water.

Your wet dress was now clinging to your body, beads of sand on your skin and your breathing uneven, eyes threatening to open again with distress.

He didn’t move when you opened your eyes, which were full of hurt and exhaustion, you couldn’t scream in fear. Instead, you found yourself staring back at him just as curiously, taking in the pretty moles scattered all over his body, his soft glistening pink lips with fangs peeking out and resting on them. You took notice of the dainty jewelry he had adorned, from his necklace to his ear cuffs, from his arm cuff which barely contained his muscles to the gold chain he had around his slender waist, you observed it all.

He was the prettiest creature you had ever come across.

He wondered why he was so fascinated when he was supposed to hate your kind, the kind which destroyed his kingdom.

But not you. You looked lost, scared, as if the humans didn’t show mercy to their own kinds too, he was intrigued, his heart beating faster taking in the soft glow the carven stones reflected upon you.

“Let me go,” your voice came out breathless, body shaking with the cool air around you, caressing your soaked body.

His expression didn’t change, however you could see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your plea.

He took a hold of your chin, sensing your fear heightening with his move, “what’s your name?” He asked, voice smooth as if his siren tone was trying to comply you to answer him.

Your voice came out in a whisper as you told him your name, which he repeated after you to get the pronunciation right and you suddenly felt as if your name was the prettiest thing you’d ever heard.

The small moment was ruined the second other sirens came swimming into the cavern, hissing as they saw you but they stopped the second they noticed another siren with you.

“Fuck! Let go of me,” you exasperated, not wanting to become food for the bloodthirsty creatures.

His gaze was stoic all of a sudden as he addressed them, paying your words zero attention, no traces of kindness as his loud voice boomed in the area, “touch her and you die,” he warned everyone, the fear evident in their eyes as they bowed down, swimming back into the depths of the ocean.

“How?” You breathed out, and he turned to look your way again, cupping your cheek, sudden warmth blooming in your body and you were torn, trying to decide if you wanted to hate him or not.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, and you gulp, shaking your head despite knowing that you had nowhere to escape, but also slightly aware of the fact that you felt a pull towards this siren, and it scared you even further. “Don’t be difficult,” he warned.

Slowly, you parted your mouth, observing his next move. He was quick to snap open his heart shaped pendant, taking a white pearl out and placing it on your tongue, the taste buds already delighted at the sweetness the pearl harboured.

“Eat it, it’ll help you breathe in the water,” he said, eyes so dark yet shiny.

“No! What? No, I can’t go in there—” you looked horrified at the idea.

He simply looked at you, “you have nowhere else to go. So, it’s either you follow me, or you become food for the others,” he said, referring to the sirens which you had encountered a few minutes back.

He left you no choice, his gaze sharp as he waited for your answer. With a gulp, you nodded, choosing to follow him as he saved your life, finally intaking the pearl, watching him nod with the slightest upliftment of his lip.

“Come,” he extended his hand for you to take.

“Wait,” you stopped him, “what’s your name?”

“Sunghoon,” he spoke, voice rich as he finally held on to your hand, intertwining your fingers, “and you belong to me now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to react pulling you with him. Panic seeped through you, which was soon replaced by shock as you could easily breathe under the water, as said by Sunghoon, who held on to you tighter, taking you deep inside the water.

You were mesmerized by the schools of fishes around you, coral reefs of all colours decorating the sea. Nothing felt real to you anymore. It was too surreal to be real, especially the siren next to you, who had his eyes set on you.

You didn’t know what was to come.

If someone told you you’d be visiting a royal palace deep inside the sea then you would have laughed in their face.

However, now that you had actually reached such a place, trying to hold in your panic, you weren’t sure how to react, granted that you had pinched yourself a few times to wake up in case it was a dream.

Which wasn’t the case sadly.

The shock was clear on your face when the tailed guards with tridents bowed down looking at Sunghoon. The place was epitome of beauty, decorated with underwater planktons and shells, the merfolks eyed you with curiosity, to which you held on to Sunghoon’s arm tighter.

“Why are we here? Don’t tell me you’re a prince,” you said, still wondering how you got to breathe under the water, also staring at the big shell covered with foam, a few mermaids sitting there, whispering amongst themselves but it was clear that you were the topic of their gossip.

Sunghoon didn’t answer your question, taking you into a big chamber which seemed to be his room, and you stilled, thinking that maybe he did belong to the royal family.

“Jake, come here,” Sunghoon called out, revealing a siren with an elegant, green coloured tail.

He bowed down the second he was summoned in front of Sunghoon, “yes, your majesty?”

“Set up a chamber with no water. It should have the atmosphere similar to that of the land. Also arrange human clothing as per the size of my princess,” he ordered, eyes flickering towards you when he spoke the last part and Jake bowed down, leaving you both alone.

“Y—you’re actually a prince? Oh god, I can’t be staying here—and what do you mean princess?” You rambled, losing your mind, your eyes comically wide at this statement.

It must be a joke, it has to be a joke.

“Shh,” he came closer, trapping you against the wall, “I told you, you belong to me now, princess,” he spoke up in his ever so silky voice, his eyes glowing.

“But—”

“Oh, princess,” he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, “you’re cute if you think you have a choice, there’s no way to go back now, the ship is destroyed.” His voice came out deeper than you had expected, lips brushing against your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

“You know this is kidnapping, right?” You tried to argue.

“Not when you want to be here,” he retorted, looking back at you, his pointy nose caressing yours, “you can fight all you want, princess. It won’t change the fact that your heart beats fast whenever I come close to you,” he says, pulling back with a smirk and swimming away, leaving you all alone in his chamber.

You couldn’t move, as if he saw right through you when he mentioned your heartbeat, because no matter how hard you tried, even you couldn’t convince yourself that you weren’t a flustered mess around him.

You didn’t know how they managed to set up a chamber without the water but somehow it happened, and in record time too, which had you sighing with pleasure when your feet finally landed on the floor.

Meanwhile, you were conflicted again, not sure if you’d be okay alone in a room, but at the same time you didn’t wish to sleep with Sunghoon (read: you feared you’d lose control around him) but the thought didn’t bother you for long as you sat down on the big foamy bed they had arranged for you, along with myriads of clothes in all colours and patterns, majority of them consisting of silky dresses, the fabric more watery than water itself.

You half expected Sunghoon to visit you before sleeping, which didn’t happen and you couldn’t deny that it disappointed you, granted you knew no one but him.

Your feelings were all over the place, nothing felt real but you weren’t sure if the reality of being on land would be any better than the comfort you’re seeking being under the water, away from the danger as you remembered that you indeed have someone who’s willing to save you.

Yet you can’t help but want to fight him for being so unnecessarily cocky, then again, he was a prince, and a siren prince at that, you couldn’t blame him for the way he was.

Sleep came easily, especially when you were in the comfort of the foamy bed they had arranged for you while you were clad in the silkiest night slip you found in the grand closet, which again was arranged for you in record time.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but your body needed the rest, and by the time you woke up, all your little wounds and bruises were gone from the fight yesterday, not to mention how you were surrounded by a bunch of curious mermaids who were sent to take care of you, their tails had turned into legs as they entered your room.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” you spoke awkwardly, glad that they weren’t being rude to you, but they were curious about you.

“Does his highness talk to you?”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Prince Sunghoon never brings anyone back to the palace, you must be really special to him.”

All three spoke up, making your eyes go wide, “he doesn’t?” You ask and they shake their heads to confirm the statement.

You feel your cheeks beating up, trying to look elsewhere to calm down. The mermaids were nice, taking you to the royal bath first, also fetching you some human food, surprisingly the most scrumptious one you had ever consumed.

However, they were quick to leave the second Sunghoon arrived at your chamber, his tail too getting converted into long legs, his torso on display but his legs covered with a blue-green silky cloth wrapped around his waist, being the same colour as his tail.

“Slept well, princess?” He asked, approaching where you sat down on your bed.

“Don’t call me that, I won’t ever be your princess,” you breathed out.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue, face indifferent as if he was expecting this exact reaction.

He came closer, observing your face where the scratch wound had been previously, he smelled like fresh ocean breeze, the kind that makes you feel alive even on the dullest of your days, and you couldn’t help but clear your throat and look away.

“How do you have legs now?” You asked, deviating your attention, but he continued staring at your face, “don’t you have princely duties to take care of?” You asked, trying to get him to talk, but again, he continued to stare at you, his head tilting slightly as you gulped, not looking into his eyes.

“Taking care of my princess is a part of my duty,” he said as smooth as ever, leaving you speechless yet again.

You didn’t notice the necklace he had in his slender fingers, made up of prettiest shades of little shells. It was delicate, almost magical with how sparkling it looked to the eyes, “got them made from the rarest shells of the kingdom,” he spoke up, inching closer to help you wear it.

His touch was cold, juxtaposing the trail of warmth he left he left behind as he clasped it behind your neck, your eyelids fluttering close at the proximity, a shiver running down your spine as he whispered into your ear, “I found the necklace pretty, but you made it look prettier.”

It was impossible for you to stop thinking about Sunghoon it seemed, even more so when you had the prettiest necklace resting on your clavicle. It was as if the water around you had some sort of magic which made your mind drift back to the certain dark haired prince over and over again.

Maybe it was because you were in his kingdom, or maybe because he was a siren, the creature famous for its manipulative skills. Yet you knew he wasn’t using his siren voice or anything related to that when he talked to you.

Shaking your head, you focused on exploring the palace with your three new friends, the mermaids you had met earlier in the morning. The word pretty would not be enough to describe your surroundings as you observed the tiny pink seahorses moving around in a line at the back gardens of the palace.

“I see how envious everyone is, their stares could actually kill,” one of the mermaids spoke up.

“Why don’t you guys hate me?” You grimaced while asking.

“Because the prince has his eyes set on you and you only—also, we are his cousins so we don’t really like the whole idea of incest,” they explained with soft smiles.

“Oh—” you said out loud before they nudged you to look at the person who was already present in your chamber, none other than your prince.

A sudden wave of giddiness travelled down your body, leaving just as quick when you mentally reminded yourself to not fall for his antics. He was a siren chasing a human girl after all.

“Prince Sunghoon. What do I owe this pleasure for?” You ask, standing in front of his taller frame as your friends leave you in privacy, closing the door behind them as they leave.

He stood with his back facing you, and that was a dangerous sight already with his muscles flexing at every little movement of his.

To prevent this from happening (read: your mind going mush at the sight of him), you moved swiftly and situated yourself in the comfort of your big bed, his eyes observing you carefully, just like always and the action was enough for the corner of his lips to lift up ever so slightly.

“Prince and Princess should sleep together, don’t you think so, pretty?” He asked in his velvety tone.

Each time you try to step back to calm yourself, Sunghoon comes up saying something bizarre, leaving you more disoriented than before.

“W—what are you talking about? We’re not even married yet—”

“Yet. Well, I’m glad to see you being enthusiastic about it,” he mused, harbouring a lopsided grin as he neared you.

Your mouth was open as you tried to display just how against you were of the idea, “I’m not marrying you,” you confirmed.

He rolled his eyes, wrapping his fingers around your ankle, pulling you closer effortlessly, enough for your face to be inches away from him, your legs dangling on either side of him as he stood in between your legs.

“Cute,” he chuckled, taking the authority with less to no effort, his sharp fangs on display as he grabs your neck in a swift moment, the action has you seeing stars even with the lack of pressure on his hold, other hand caressing your bottom lip with his thumb, brushing the same spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—”

“Y’know what, princess? You remind me of this little creature I came across when I visited your land. She was just like you—hissing and scratching till I got down on my knees and gave her gentle caresses on her back,” he told the story, making you freeze on spot, his voice captivating, “such a sweet kitten she was. You’re the same, so violent despite being a cute little kitten, all you need is a gentle caress—” he caressed your cheek to make a point, “to have you mewling like a kitten.”

You couldn’t stop the little whimper escaping your lips the second he said so, proving his point even further as your cheeks burned with embarrassment? Proximity? His fingers around your neck? Or the way he made you mewl exactly like a cat? You couldn’t decide.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” He smirked, leaving you alone for the night, speechless as ever.

You couldn’t, for the life of you, face Sunghoon after the little stunt he pulled last night and you did everything in your power to avoid him the following day, which he found amusing as he watched you swimming away from a distance, using your pretty legs in the middle of other sirens, the necklace still wrapped around your pretty neck.

Others complained how he didn’t smile much to none, which changed when he found himself smiling with his dimples on display at the sight of his cousin mermaids giving you various sea flowers, tucking them behind your ear, which made them glow. The bioluminescence felt like magic to you as they glowed when you smiled, moving around and discovering the secrets these deep waters held, your eyes meeting Sunghoon’s for a brief second when you realized he’s watching from the balcony of his chambers. Your breath hitched, the sight of his torso never failing to get you flustered as you averted your eyes to focus on something else—anything else.

You couldn’t help but admit that you enjoyed this new life, and that you were grateful to be alive, to be saved by a certain siren who was in your mind twenty four seven, the circadian clock adjusting to your new ways of living.

You watched yourself in the big reflecting surface which served to be the mirror in your room, your skin had a newfound glow and your body looked pretty clad in the blue dress which was lighter than the air, the fabric almost felt like silky fluid.

The noise of shuffling behind you caught your attention, and you simply assumed that it would be Sunghoon who had come to visit you again, which wasn’t the case as you turned around to see an ugly siren with its claws out, reaching out to you with the most gut wrenching scream it could muster.

Your eyes widened, hands covering your ear to save your precious eardrums, crouching down to save yourself.

Maybe you said it too early, maybe this life was just a little something god had given to you before trying to snatch everything away from you, including your life. You waited for the attack, you waited for the trident to pierce your body.

Yet the attack never came.

With your body shaking, you dared to open your eyes, only to find Sunghoon with his eyes pitch black as he held on to the other siren by its neck. His grip was strong, the sound of bone crushing only made you look away in fear, “how dare you—” he spoke up, voice loud and shaking with anger, “—try to hurt my princess?” He didn’t hold back anymore, slamming his head on the floor, blood splattering everywhere, a few drops landing on his face.

Sunghoon didn’t wish to drag it long, especially when he knew that you were terrified, “clean it up,” he ordered Jake, who was quick to oblige his command.

“Princess,” Sunghoon spoke up once you were alone in the chamber, his voice gentle as you looked up at him through tears, noticing that the siren was nowhere to be found, “he’s gone, he won’t be back,” Sunghoon told you.

You stood up shaking, rushing into his arms. Sunghoon was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, the other hand resting on the back of your head, patting you gently to calm you down.

“Hoon,” you whispered, “why did he come after me?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“He wanted the crown, so—so he went after the person I cherished the most,” Sunghoon told you earnestly, trying not to kiss you the second you used the nickname.

“Please don’t lie to me,” your voice came out as a whisper, lower lip jutting out in a pout. You couldn’t resist him anymore.

He cradled your face, his fingertips soft against your skin, providing you with the warmth you had gotten so familiar with over the past few days, maybe it was the way he had protected you since the day he first laid his eyes on you, maybe it was how he never failed to express his emotions when it came to you, speaking whatever came to his mind, maybe it was how his eyes were full of love and a promise of something more.

That’s what made you want to kiss the prettiest creature you had ever met.

His touch was light as the feather, which allowed you to move swiftly as you got on your tippy toes, placing your soft lips against his rosy ones in a quick kiss.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, the tenderness lingering behind on your lips, but that wasn’t enough for him. He bit his lower lip, pulling you closer by the waist, his body pressing against yours as he pulled you into a feverish kiss, the kind that leaves you breathless, his lips slotting against yours in a perfect manner, as if puzzle pieces put together.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed out the second he separated from the kiss.

“Why? Don’t you want your princess now—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was picking you up with ease, lips on your again, his muscles flexing as he carried you to the bed, getting on top of you, giving you a second to breathe.

It was the way he stared so deeply into your eyes, it had you melting in his arms, “want you,” you admitted, “so much.”

His smile was wide, mesmerizing you to the point you had to lean on your elbow, kissing his dimpled cheek before trailing kisses down his jaw. The peck on his Adam's apple however, was enough to drive him over the edge.

You looked so pretty like this, lips glossy and eyes begging to have more of him, all of him. It was like a tune playing in the background when he dipped down to trail kisses all over your clavicle, sucking love marks all over your previously untouched skin, his fangs digging into your flesh slightly, providing you with the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, your back arching as he got rougher with his approach.

His touch was electrifying as he grabbed the curve of your waist, “you’re my human, all mine,” he mumbled against your skin. If his voice was alluring for you then every inch of you was alluring for him.

Your dress was easy to remove, soon thrown on the ground, exposing your body to Sunghoon, who swears he’d worship you each day. You squeeze his bicep, holding on to him tight, his finesse showing as he takes your tits in his mouth, squeezing the other one when you moaned, no room in between you for any air to pass through.

He continued kissing lower and lower, covering the expanse of your body in a silent prayer. He was claiming you his.

Lifting your legs on his shoulder, he continued peppering kisses all over your lower abdomen, your fingers tugging on his silky roots to get a grip, pretty whines leaving your lips, telling him to stop teasing.

He couldn’t ever deny you, now sucking on your clit, tongue tasting every drop of your arousal, prodding your entrance. The brush of his nose on your clit had you shivering with need, “Hoonie,” you whispered, eyes closing at the unadulterated bliss he provided you with.

He fucked his tongue into your hole, desperate to have your taste all over him, the rings on his fingers juxtaposing the warmth of your body as he held your thighs open, his shoulders providing to be sturdy and strong for your legs.

It was too much, your hands were sweaty, now gripping on the silky sheets as you stared at the watery ceiling, which reflected the lewd image back at you—Prince Sunghoon buried in your cunt, immersed in eating you out, wanting to have every inch of his princess.

Your back arched into him, craving more of him as you felt your high approaching with the spasming of your pussy, your body not being able to handle more of his ministrations, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, lewd noises all around the room as you finally orgasmed, telling him taste all of you.

“Fuck, you’re my sweet nectar and I’m obsessed,” he muttered, coming up to push his tongue inside your mouth, the kiss deeper than ever as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

You didn’t even notice when he unpinned his cloth from his waist, the delicate chain and ornaments decorating his perfectly sculpted body as you finally saw him—long, thick, and hard for you. Your mind blanked out, it wasn’t gonna fit, but you couldn’t help but whine for more.

“Make me yours,” you whispered, and he pulled you impossibly closer, as if trying to meld his body with yours, your arousal had his lips glistening, his eyes turning dark again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” he spoke in a deep breath, pumping his cock a few times, “all mine,” he pecked the corner of your mouth, chuckling as you chased for more.

And he gave you exactly that, your eager holes taking him in slowly as he pushed himself inside your warm cunt, the walls clenching around, trying to adjust to his length and for a second you forgot that you were being fucked by a siren, his cock too perfect, too big for you.

“Oh god,” you cried out as he pumped himself into you slowly, trying to fit himself into you by each thrust. You were so fucked out already, wanting to kiss Sunghoon every chance you got and you were afraid of how fast you developed feelings for your pretty siren.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good girl,” he praised as you took him in fully, his cock snugly fit inside you, your toes curling with the overwhelming sensation. He grabbed your hips, pistoning into you harder, faster, panting near your ear before keeping his forehead against yours in hopes of mapping out, learning and remembering every expression of yours.

Oh you looked beautiful.

The moonlight coming down from the mirror-like ceiling only casted a glow on you, making you seem even more magical than Sunghoon thought you are and you wanted this moment to last forever, his cock twitching and hitting the deepest spots in you, the spots that had your mind shutting off.

“So—so close,” you whimpered, and he held on to you tighter.

“Let go, princess. Come for me,” he said, kissing your tears of pleasure away as he too rushed to fuck you harder, making sure you felt every inch of him in your core, filling you up as you heard sweet melodies, as if you had reached heaven, you both coming undone together, holding each other with need.

He kissed your temple, caressing your cheek before placing sweet kisses all over, telling you how well you did, before saying something that made you cry out of what you’d call love.

“I used to sit on the rock staring at the moon, my mother told me I’d get my soulmate soon,” he said, looking at you softly, the look in his eyes was enough to confirm that you wanted to stay with him for life.

“And now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go, princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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adaelines · 1 year

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Home And More

hiii my back is killing me but horny for simon NEVER stops!!! afab but gender neutral reader, consentual somnophilia, simon eats u out whilst u sleep bc he wants u that bad, simon cums in his pants from eating u out

Ghost was always there for you.

He lived up to his namesake in that regard, always spotted in the corner of your eyesite, most of the time gone by the time moved to greet him, or ask what he was up to during some rather strange times you caught him watching.

He protected you, kept an eye on you best he could, wanted to keep you safe.

He knew you didn't need it, knew as a fellow member of 141 that you could easily protect yourself, he trusted you more than he trusted himself sometimes, but you two were close. Not in the same way the rest of 141 was, despite how strong your relationship was with them, it was different with Ghost. It was more.

Whilst neither of you outright defined your relationship, never had the time to go on proper dates or spend as much time together as you wanted, it was obvious to everyone, including yourselves, that you loved each other more than life itself. The situations you both often found yourselves in caused your relationship to blossom much quicker than would be considered usual, but nothing about your relationship was usual.

Long nights of watch often lead to keeping each other company as you cleaned your weapons, sitting together in a comfortable silence and just existing together. To him, it was the little things about you that he craved, the happiness in stolen moments together, even in the worst of situations. It was comfortable with you, even after days of fighting, after having to shield every emotion behind getting the job done efficiently, prioritising anything but yourselves.

It was these times spent together that led to Simon longing for you when apart, the silence away from you almost unbearable. It was the same as it always was, even when you were there the silence was the same, but to him it was a stark difference. Your missing presence was notable, it left him on edge and more snappy than his normal, usually friendly jabs. Fingers twitching often like he wanted to hold something, wanted to reach out and grab.

It was this pining, the want in his chest that lasted the entire mission, that led him to your room, quickened steps uncaring of the time of night, of the fact anyone of sound might would be asleep right now. Not Simon, however, not when he spent the last weeks aching to touch you, the time alone on watch usually spent by your side instead spent humping his fist, nothing being enough without your touch, your voice right beside his ear.

The way he slammed your door open he was surprised you didn't wake up immediately, the desperation causing him to use a little too much force, if the walls weren't as sturdy as they were, he was sure the door handle would have left a sizable indent in the wall behind. He just couldn't help himself, not when you were finally in his reach, finally before him, finally able to feel you again, properly.

The scent of you, your room full of everything you, was enough to make Simon shiver, hands almost shaking as he removed the blanket from your sleeping form and grabbed your hips, dropping to his knees and pulling you towards him. He knew you were okay with this, heard your voice telling him to just take you whenever, you really wouldn't mind, not when it's him, not when you've missed him just as much as he's missed you. Any touch from him is a blessing, waking up to him is an honour.

He made quick work of your shorts, your underwear alongside them, almost groaning when he could finally see all of you, finally see the hole he'd been desperate to fuck the entire time he was away from you. His hand never compared to being buried deep inside of you, how tight you were, how you would whine his name and beg for more. Shoving the mask off of his face, the balaclava up above his nose, he spread you apart with his thumbs and let a low hum at the sight, how absolutely delicious you looked.

He missed this. Missed seeing so needy for him, even unconsciously, he loved knowing that you needed him as much as he felt like he needed you.

It was easy for him to lean down, press a soft kiss against your clit, before absolutely devouring you.

It was your own loud, depraved whine that woke you up, your thighs tensing around Simon's head and hand immediately going to push him away.

"Don't," Simon all but growled at your attempt, flattening his tongue to lick from hole to clit. His voice was so deep, so gravelly, you couldn't help the whine that escaped.

You went slack against the bed, the hand in the top of his mask only tightening, no longer pushing him away but pulling him against you, thighs tense on either side of his head.

"Sweet thing," Simon's voice was low, a quiet whimper. "Sorry for wakin' you, just needed your cunt too badly."

"It's- okay!" Your voice was all whines at this point, high pitched and needy. Even when trying to reassure him, he didn't pause for even a minute. Even when you were trying to tell him you didn't mind, that he could spit in your mouth and use you so that he gets off, you wouldn't care at all, so long as he feels good.

Sleep still clouded your mind, still covered your thoughts in a blanket of grogginess, but the pleasure Simon gave you was red-hot, almost blinding. It was hard to even think when he was this close, this determined to bring you to the peak of your pleasure over and over, as much as his energy drained body would allow.

"Simon," You whined, and you could feel him grin against you, could feel the low groan he let out at you simply moaning his name at his actions. He really was pent up, if just your voice and taste was getting to him that much, and he thanked whatever God was out there that you were too tired to focus on anything, you weren't able to see how he was humping the air.

"S'okay, love, just stay still, yeah?" Voice slightly muffled, unable to pull away even to respond. "I'll take good care of you…"

He touched you, ate you, like a man starved. And he was. He missed your taste so much, missed feeling you tremble on his tongue. He would happily spend hours between your thighs, devouring you whole.

"Needy cunt just wanted attention, who am I to deny my sweet little thing?"

Suckling your clit into his mouth, it wasn't hard for him to move his fingers to your hole, for him to press inside, very little resistance as a result of his tongue and how much your pussy was practically drooling against him.

Your hands were tight in his hair, the balaclava pushed off due to your grip, your desperation to touch him, your Simon, not any mask or material.

"S'too much, please-!"

"You can take it," He muttered against you, eyes lidded and watching, tone almost stern. "You're always so good for me, always so sweet… you can take anything I give you, pretty thing."

His lips and tongue on your clit, fingers pressed deep inside, the fact he was finally here, in your bed like you dreamed of him being, was all so overwhelming. It didn't take long for you to reach your peak, not when you've been waiting for this since the moment he left, been waiting for his touch since the last time you felt it.

The hands in his hair tightened, your voice raising an octave as you moaned his name, and if Simon wasn't as strong as you knew he was, you would be worried at how tightly your thighs were around his head. You knew he didn't care, knew he welcomed anything that meant you were as close as possible, loved when rode his face and used him for your own pleasure, as you were doing now, bucking against him and holding him close.

The groan he let's out is low, needy, and if you weren't as overwhelmed as you were, completely out of it with white hot pleasure, you would have teased him for how much it sounded like a whine.

It quickly became too much, hand still holding his hair tight moving to push him away, move him away from your incredibly sensitive cunt.

The grin he gave you was devilish, devious as he moved up from his knees to kiss you, to press his lips against yours and consume you whole, based on how desperate he seemed.

"Simon," You muttered into the kiss, breathing slowly and heavily. You had missed him so much, missed feeling him against you, it was such a blessing to have him back.

"Gimme a minute," Your voice was low as you pulled away, moving to instead trail kisses down his cheek, his jaw. "You can do whatever you want to me."

"No need," he spoke quietly, slowly, like he was ashamed. You would be worried if it wasn't for the flush on his cheeks, the way he narrowly avoided your eyes and refused to look at you. "I'm uh... I'm good."

Simon, the insatiable man that he was, refusing something like this? You moved one hand to hold his jaw, pulling back with narrowed eyes. He still refused to look at you, and when he moved his hips away, you realised what happened.

Simon came in his pants from eating you out.

The grin that spread across your face was quick, bright, and it only made the flush on his face worse.

"Simon!" You whispered, grin bright and tone full of fake shock, "Really?"

"Don't," He groaned against you, hiding his face in your shoulders. "Seriously. Don't you dare. Fuckin' embarrassing."

You quickly moved to press another kiss on his lips, full of love and utter adoration. You knew what he was like, knew how easily he could turn against himself, feel bad about the smallest of things that didn't truly matter. It was easy for him to put walls back up, to pull away and retreat back into himself, and you wouldn't let that happen.

"You're so fucking hot," You muttered into the kiss, gently biting into his lower lip. "Jesus, Simon, really? God, I can't believe you're this hot,"

The low noise he let into the kiss made everything worth it. The time away, the time spent missing him, it didn't matter when he was here, finally.

Simon was home, back with you, where he belonged.

#simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #modern warfare smut #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

if the door wasn’t shut

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

▹— a/n: i don’t like the second half of this one D: but i made you guys wait long enough so i apologise!!! been super busy so this is v rushed but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

▹— warnings: angst, loss of loved ones, tlou ep 5/6 spoilers, father figure joel, reader is really scared, not proofread

masterlist | PART TWO

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known that those days in Boston QZ would’ve been the last peaceful ones for a long time, you think you might’ve treasured them more. Held them closer, let the edges sharpen when you thought of them, rather than seeing only blurred images, the memories faded.

You wouldn’t have believed it if somebody had told you. The life you lived in Boston was flawed, at best, but it was your life. Filled with violence and bloodshed, sure, but there were things you could control. Things that Joel and Tess had always made sure you could control.

Out in the wide world, the facade of control that the two adults had always kept up crumbled to dust in your hands, lost to Infected and hunters and shelters in the strangest places.

It was a difficult shift in your reality, and you tried to hide it from Joel. He had already given you so much, hell, he and Tess had provided you with a home, even when they had no obligation to do so. You owed them more than your life.

When you had met Ellie, you immediately disliked her. She grated on you, her biting words and humorous comments doing nothing but fueling your growing dislike of her. She was childish — she acted her age, showed her fear, and it was something you just couldn’t understand. You were far too used to closing down the emotion behind your eyes, to shutting away all of your baggage in a box deep in your mind.

It had worn you down, eventually. Hating her was much harder than you expected it to be, especially when she looked at you for the understanding she knew you possessed. You even watched as Joel softened up to her, far faster than he had done with you, and you couldn’t help but follow in his example, as you always tried to do.

Hushed conversations when following Joel’s tense figure, something young passing over you, something that had seemed so… far away. You had always thought that bonds like this could only exist in the world before your own, trust Ellie to prove you wrong.

But one gained friendship didn’t quite make up for all the losses. It was Tess, to start with. Something that had singed your lungs and left you breathing the smoke, something of choked words leaving you when she had revealed the bite on her shoulder. She had looked at you, that understanding passing through her eyes, grief for a life she wouldn’t get to live. You understood the gaze far more than you wanted to, and you knew that the burns scarring your insides wouldn’t fade for a very long time.

Then, it was finding out that Bill and Frank were gone.

It seemed wrong. Something so untouchable, so guarded, how could it possibly be gone? You couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand how the few people you valued seemed to be dropping away before your very eyes, faster than you could even reach for them.

The journey seemed pointless to you, after that.

Though you felt for Ellie, that selfishness that had always been drilled into you rushed in, drowning out the empathy towards her cause. It left you with something empty inside of your chest, and you couldn’t figure out a way to fill it. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

It only got worse.

Warm days turned colder, the nights going to something nearby freezing, and then there was the events of Kansas City. You had been so sure Joel was going to die, that you and Ellie would follow soon after, that you couldn’t move. Your legs seemed frozen to the spot, and even as you heard the struggle in the other room, it didn’t quite register.

It was only when Ellie managed to get Joel through to the room you were hidden in that you managed to snap out of your fear-induced haze. Your eyes were cloudy, and after that, it was so hard to focus.

You and Ellie had found some comfort when Sam showed up alongside his older brother, Henry. They were a breath of fresh air in the hellscape of a city, and for once, you witnessed true childhood. Saw it in the way Sam scribbled on his board, in the way he laughed at whatever Ellie had written on it. It was contagious, almost.

That was probably the happiest you had been since leaving Boston, and it all fell apart so quickly. Like the first sparks of a fire squandered by the downpour of a storm.

You can’t even remember much of it. Not the big parts, anyway. You remember the little things, like the colour of Sam’s hoodie, or the splinters you got from the floorboards as you fell backwards, scrambled away from the only semblance of childhood you’d ever had. You remember looking to Henry, something in your chest begging to be let out, but choking on it before it could escape. Your remember the sound of something splattering against the wall, and you remember Joel touching your arm after the burial.

Everything was blurring together, but one thing stood out; that overwhelming fear that threatened to sweep you away with every sound you heard, every flash of movement in darkness, every loss you witnessed.

Each day it became harder to shake away the haze to your eyes, harder to feel something other than scared, harder to close that box in your brain and leave those big feelings in there. It became so prevalent, all of it weighing you down, pressing tightly against your shoulders, and somewhere along the line you knew that Joel and Ellie had noticed.

Whether it was your withdrawn behaviour, or the gaping hole ripped into your chest, you weren’t entirely sure. But they knew. Perhaps not to the extent that you believed them to, but they knew something wasn’t quite right.

And now it was the cold threatening to take the three of you — it was freezing the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, and you really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It had been months since Henry and Sam, but it felt like it had been both no time at all, yet so far away. Everything still felt so raw, so fresh, despite time passing as normally as ever.

Joel had somehow managed to find winter supplies for the three of you, consisting of a coat and gloves, a hat that you let Ellie take. It was enough to keep you all alive, but it didn’t stop the chill seeping into your very bones, making it feel all the more harder to keep going.

It got to the point where you just didn’t want to. Couldn’t.

“Come on,” Joel said, your name falling from him as he patted your shoulder, all of his supplies already packed up, “Time to go.”

Getting up seemed impossible, so you didn’t. Just let your eyes glaze over and watched as Joel and Ellie grabbed their weapons, glancing outside of the cabin you’d taken refuge in. Joel looked back to you, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you hadn’t packed up any of your things, hadn’t even moved.

He looked at Ellie, frowning when she noticed, too. He made his way over, crouching down with aching knees, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Kid, we gotta get moving.” Joel said, shaking your shoulder the slightest to gather your attention. You just looked at him, shaking your head. “C’mon. We don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t wanna go anymore, Joel.” You told him, finally admitting the words that sounded so much like defeat. You hated that the world had won, but you were so tired of fighting that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lose.

Joel shook his head, eyebrows creasing, an expression close to dumbfounded crossing his face. He couldn’t understand.

“We’re closer than we’ve ever been!” Ellie said encouragingly, the biggest smile she could muster on her face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in her direction, instead looking down to where your fingers pulled at the loose threads on your sleeping bag.

“I can’t,” You said, much closer to tears than you had even realised. “I can’t keep doing this. Joel, I wanna go home.”

His frown just deepened, uncertainty present in every feature on his face. Joel didn’t know how to handle this, and there really wasn’t that much time to do so.

“Kid…” He sighed, before sitting down properly beside you with a pained breath.

“No, Joel, I— I want to go back. I want all of this to go away. I want Tess.” You admitted, heart pounding so hard just at the mention of the woman you had lost, and it was painful. Your chest aches the more you thought about it, and there was the realisation that you were homesick. Though you weren’t sure if that’s as for Boston, or for Tess.

“There is no goin’ back, kiddo. Tess… she’s gone. Nothin’ we can do about it.” Joel said, taking a moment to steady the shake in his voice after saying her name. It was just as painful for him as it was for you.

“I’m… I’m scared.” You confessed, voice barely a whisper, but it echoed around the empty walls of the cabin. The confession almost scared Joel, he knew you preferred to keep everything locked tightly, never admitting to the fear he knew was there. “All the time,” You continued, lips trembling around the words, “And it’s all I can think about. I can’t keep doing this. Every time we meet something I just get so scared, I can’t move, can’t speak.”

“It’s okay to be scared—” Joel tried.

“No, it’s not! It’s like I’m frozen, and every time, I lose someone. I can’t watch you guys die. I can’t do it.” You cut him off, the tears falling from your eyes as you looked at Joel.

He couldn’t do much more than frown, unsure how he could fix something like this. He knew the feeling more than you could imagine, so familiar it was the clearest thing he could remember. Joel had felt this way for years, but he was an adult. He had people relying on him, he couldn’t shut down in the way he knew you wanted to.

“We’re not gonna die,” Joel said, hesitantly. It was stupid to make promises in this world, especially when danger and the unknown lurked around every corner. “We’re all goin’ to be just fine. Listen to me, kid, we’re gonna get this done, and then we’re all gonna find somewhere, no infected, and we’ll just live. But we need to get through this, first.”

You shook your head, turning away from him, and he glanced to where Ellie stood, the guilt flooded onto her face.

“You two listenin’?” Joel asked, beginning to pick up your things and shove them into your backpack. “We’re getting close now. It’s almost over. Got nothin’ to worry about.”

“He’s right,” Ellie said, quietly, passing Joel something to put in your bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They packed up your things around you, Joel grabbing your arms to help you to your feet, and Ellie linked arms with you as soon as you were up. Together, they managed to get you out of the cabin, back out into the cold.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You had been so sure that one of you was going to die when the people on horses showed up, guns trained on each of you in turn. You thought it was going to be Joel when he shoved you and Ellie behind him, his head spinning around, taking count of the people who were a danger to you.

Then, they brought out their dog, and your heart stopped when they directed it towards Ellie. It was going to be her, you were almost sure of it, thought that it would get a whiff of something from the bite scarred over her forearm.

You held your breath for a long time, not able to let it go even when the dog settled, playing happily with Ellie. Surely, these people would shoot you, regardless. They certainly didn’t seem very friendly.

But no, they were taking you back to their town, with you and Joel sharing a horse while Ellie rode on her own. You’d never ridden on a horse, and before, you may have enjoyed the experience, but you could only feel that suffocating fear that made you choke on your words, so scared that these people were taking you to their town just to kill you. Or worse. You’d heard of people who do worse.

You couldn’t get the words out to express your concern to Joel, forced to stay silent and cling on to him as the three of you made your way past the walls, surrounded by strangers. You shared a look with Ellie, that nervous understanding shared between the two of you once more.

Your fingers twitch, aching to wrap around your gun, but that was the first thing these people had taken. Then it was your knife. And then the axe Joel had you storing in the side of your bag. It didn’t help that helpless feeling, that fear clogging your throat.

Joel’s tense frame loosens suddenly, something like relief sinking into his bones as he shouts, “Tommy!” A man immediately looking up from where he was stood atop of some scaffolding. Joel slides off of the horse, handing the reigns to you, before meeting his brother halfway in a tight hug.

Ellie frowns, and you understand the furrow to her brows as you looked at Joel and his brother. He was all the two of you had.

The two of you stick together as you follow Joel to wherever his brother is leading the three of you, sharing nervous glances and only just about relaxing when you’re seated with hot meals in front of you.

You did your best to tune as much of the conversation out as possible, even ignoring Joel’s comment about slowing down, as you shoved as much food as you could into your mouth while the opportunity was there. After all, who knew how long this would last?

Ellie kicked your leg when Tommy mentioned about a tour, the two of you reluctantly leaving your plates behind to follow the three adults. Maria went on with her touring speech, talking about when and how they settled in the town, with Tommy pitching in about the shared resources. It was only when she talked about separating you and Ellie from Joel that your attention was really caught.

“Joel.” You said, urgency in your voice, a pleading look sent his way as he wrung his hands together, his brother already heading in his direction.

“You’ll be fine.” He said to you and Ellie, nodding in your direction and missing the look of defeat you and Ellie shared as he walked away.

“Shall we?” Maria asked, looking between you and Ellie. She was half-turned away already, but caught the way you both gazed nervously at Joel’s turned back. The two of you nodded, following behind her as she made her way through the town, clearly as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

Ellie answered all of Maria’s idle questions whilst walking alongside her, though her answers were slightly withdrawn. It comforted you, even the slightest bit, to know that you weren’t the only one who was feeling distrustful towards this place. That you weren’t the only one on edge.

Maria opened the door to the house you, Ellie and Joel were meant to be staying in, swatting a hand in front of her face as dust rose up from the untouched surfaces.

“Homely.” Ellie commented, stepping around Maria to peek into the living room, and then the kitchen, whilst you remained beside the door with Maria.

“It’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm. And it’s got running water.” Maria said, despite this being more than any of you had had in a very long time. She smiled tightly at you, head dipping as she looked around. “Make yourselves at home.”

“When do I get my gun back?” You asked, probably the most you had spoken since your slight… outburst at the cabin, just a few days prior.

“Kids ‘round here aren’t armed. Nobody is.” Maria answered, eyebrows creased as she looked at you.

“Right, well I’m not a part of your commune, or whatever, so I want back what’s mine.” You replied, with more heat to the words than would’ve been considered respectful. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, though, because how were you meant to defend yourselves if you had no weapons? Especially considering Maria clearly didn’t want Joel here, and by extension, you and Ellie.

Maria sighed, a slight exhale from her nose, and you stepped away from her, looking towards Ellie, who stared right back at you with something nervous in her gaze. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? How about you guys go take a shower, and I’ll grab you some new clothes.”

Ellie nodded, practically leaping up the stairs, and you heard doors slamming open until she finally found the bathroom, yelling an: “Aha!”

“There’s just the one shower in this house, but if you wanna have one now, mine and Tommy’s house is just across the street.” Maria offered, kindly.

“I’d rather wait.” You replied, voice snappier than you expected it to be, but you bounded up the stairs and flopped down in the first room you found.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ellie had taken forever in the shower, so it was a while before you finally took your turn. As much as you hated to admit it, the warm water cleared away much of your bitterness towards this place. It felt good. Finally being clean, properly clean, after going so long living off of what little you could take when travelling across the country. You hadn't had a shower like this since Bill and Frank’s — and you hated thinking of it.

Maria had been around earlier, bringing two piles of clothes hanging in each arm, dumping them on the bed outside of the bathroom Ellie had been showering in. You hadn’t acknowledged her, so she had nodded and left quickly.

You didn’t exactly enjoy feeling like you owed anybody anything, but you had to admit that slipping on the clean clothes that Maria had left felt good. Wearing the long sleeved t-shirt underneath a thick jumper was probably the warmest you’d been in a long time, not that you would’ve admitted that to anybody.

The small part of you that had been numbed for the past few weeks began to thaw, and you felt almost embarrassed of how you had treated Maria earlier on — despite you having every right to act in such a manner. So, with a huffed breath of annoyance, you decided to follow the note the woman had left, and made your way across the street.

She had shouted to come in almost as soon as you had knocked, and you opened the door hesitantly.

The first thing you noticed was the sound of hair scissors, and it sent a pang through your chest. Then you heard Maria and Ellie chatting, and followed the noise. The chalkboard in her living room caught your eye, and you frowned as you passed by it.

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyebrows drawn together as you stepped into the room to see Ellie putting up her short hair.

“Just a trim,” Maria said, waving the scissors in her hand, “You’re up next.”

She noticed the way you tensed, drawing your arms back up towards your chest as your eyebrows furrowed further. It was defensive, the way you immediately curled in on yourself.

“No, no, I— I don’t want my hair cut.” By you were the words missing from the sentence, going unsaid but not unheard as one of your hands reached up to hold onto the too-long ends of your hair. They were splintering, and unhealthy, but you couldn’t do it.

The last person to cut your hair had been Tess — a memory you treasured, held so close that it almost hurt to think about. It was one of those things that had come naturally at the time, but felt so taken for granted once Tess was gone. You could remember the evenings so clearly, one of the only times that she allowed herself to come across as something almost maternal.

It would feel like you were betraying her, her memory, to allow someone else to take scissors to your hair. It was a job that belonged to Tess, and Tess only. You pretended it didn't hurt, the length your hair had grown. She would’ve never let it get this long.

Maria frowned, but seemed to take your defensive words and body language for a good enough answer. She placed the scissors on the counter, an act of truce, if you had ever seen one.

“Okay,” She said, hands up in surrender, before she reached to the counter and grabbed the coat that had been laid there. “Here, put this on. We’re going to the movies.”

You had no choice but to do so, tugging the coat on and resorting to holding it closed with your arms folded across your chest when your fingers trembled on the zipper. Ellie glanced at you with a frown, and checked you were following her and Maria out of the door, just huffing out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you, hurrying to catch up.

Sitting around a bunch of kids was one of the weirdest things to happen to you. You’d spent most of your life surrounded by only Joel and Tess, occasionally Bill and Frank, hell — Ellie was the first person your age that you’d really spoken to. After everything the two of you had been through, being surrounded by children felt much stranger to you than being surrounded by adults.

You could understand adults, to a certain extent. Kids… were a different story. So transfixed on the movie projected on the wall ahead, which you couldn’t understand. You felt vulnerable, sat in the middle of the room. Out of the loop, even, as adults watched and chatted around the edges of the room.

It was why you went to find Maria whilst Ellie followed Tommy out of the place, confused on why she had brought you here. “What am I meant to be doing here?” You asked her, when you finally found her standing to the side, gazing at the movie.

“We’re at the movies,” She laughed, saying your name, “You’re meant to be watching the movie.”

“Why?” You asked, incredulously, because how did this help anybody? Watching fake people in an image against the wall might’ve fascinated you, but you were nervous. Paranoid. At any moment, they could have people breaking into the town, knocking down the walls, anything… so why waste time and people watching a movie? To you, it would’ve made more sense to have more of these people stationed as guards.

“Entertainment,” Maria offered, moving from where she had been leaning against the half-wall. “Whatever you wanna call it. You’re not out in the wilderness, anymore. You’re safe. Take some time, enjoy the film.” She told you, and you hated the sympathy that she held in her gaze.

You moved to say something, but followed Maria’s gaze to see Tommy walking back through the doors. Without another word to her, you were shoving your way through the crowd and pushing the door open, back out into the cold air.

By the time you found your way to the house on Rancher Street, both doors at the top of the stairs were tightly shut. You frowned, unsure why they would’ve shut them, and made your way up to the room Ellie was in.

“Ellie?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, seeing her turned away from the door as she lay on the bed. She was still, and remained quiet. With a sigh, you closed the door and crossed the hall, opening Joel’s door with the same results.

You tiptoed back downstairs, frowning as you laid a blanket across the couch, swatting the dust that rose to the air.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Waking up to an empty house stirred the panic that you had been storing away. You felt frantic as you tumbled up the stairs, ripping the covers away from the unmade beds as if Ellie or Joel could’ve been hiding beneath them. But finding nothing just made everything so much worse, because what if you were right all along?

Anybody could’ve come into the house, caught the two of them off guard, and what could they have done? All of your weapons were taken from you, which meant no defence, and no deterrent.

You were ripping the kitchen apart before you could think to do much else, pulling drawers out and sending the dusty contents crashing to the floor. In the end, you found nothing of use — the sharp cutlery had long since been taken, leaving dust in the empty compartment that should’ve held knives.

Your last resort was the plate you had smashed against the counter, leaving a dent in the material upon impact. Blood trickled down your cheek from a minuscule cut, the result of a tiny piece of ceramic. You grabbed the sharpest piece of the plate in a gloved hand, and marched out of the front door.

Upon entering Tommy and Maria’s house, you were greeted with nothing but silence, despite the impact the door had made against the wall when you had opened it. A small piece of paper on their kitchen counter caught your eye, and you snatched it up.

Going to the stables first thing. Love you - Tommy.

The edge of the paper was crinkled, and you figured that Maria must’ve seen it already.

Your run to the stables was frantic, and not at all subtle. People stared as you practically sprinted across the town, almost slipping on patches of ice that blended in with the snow. “Slow down, girl!” Somebody had shouted at you as you passed, but you just gripped the sharp ceramic tighter, barely feeling the way it had begun to tear at your glove.

“Joel, Ellie!” You shouted, almost hysterically, as you finally saw the two of them. Ellie was already sat upon a horse, holding the reins as Joel spoke to his brother. They both turned to face you as you approached, an almost defeated look matching each other’s expressions. “What—What’s going on?” You asked, stumbling into Joel and feeling him grasp on to your shoulders to get you to finally stop.

Joel shared a look with Tommy, who looked back at him with what was almost sympathy.

“Kid, I…” He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand down his face as his speech trailed off.

“What?” You snapped, gripping the ceramic tighter.

“Listen to me,” Joel said, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he said the words. “Me and Ellie are heading to the University—”

“Let—Let me grab my bag.” You told him, trying to turn away but feeling his grip tighten before he turned you back to face him, a bracing expression on his face. He looked almost pained.

“You’re not listening!” He told you, sounding far too close to frustration. “Me and Ellie. Not you.” He repeated, watching carefully the way your furrowed eyebrows fell, something so similar to grief presenting itself in the way your whole expression fell apart.

You looked to Ellie, only to find her gaze averted, and shook your head as you turned back to Joel. “What? You’re— You’re what? Leaving me behind?”

“It’s not fair for us to ask you to—”

You cut him off, stumbling back and away from his hands, and watched as they fell from the air where they had held on to you. “It’s not fair?” You asked, trembling from something other than the cold as you looked at the only man you had ever trusted.

The ceramic in your palm fell to the ground, fibres of your glove clinging to the edges of it. Joel frowned.

“Not fair?” You repeated, at the sound of their silence. “You know what’s not fair, Joel?” You questioned, stepping forward to push your hands against his chest, feeling your chest ache when he did nothing to stop you. “Following you two, all this way, just for you to fucking abandon me!”

“We’re not abandoning you!” Ellie said, then, her voice sounding just as childish as the words did. Because if they weren’t abandoning you, what were they doing? They hadn’t even said goodbye — if it weren’t for you running out here, after waking up to find them gone, you might have never even seen them again.

“Yes, you are!” You yelled at here, feeling your throat clog up as your vision went cloudy, “And after everything…—”

You stared between them, waiting for them to have a response, but neither of them did.

“I lost everything, following you here. Everything! It’s all gone. Tess…” You trailed off, feeling tears bubble at the corners of your eyes as you said her name. It was a betrayal, more than anything. If it weren’t for this whole adventure, Tess would’ve been alive. Bill and Frank, maybe not, but Tess.

“That ain’t fair, kiddo, we—”

“None of this has been fair. None of it! And you—you were just going to fucking leave me! How’s that for fair?” You asked desperately, despite knowing that no answer they could give would be what you wanted. All of your fear over losing them, it had never considered that they may leave of their own accord.

Maria said your name, approaching from behind you, and you didn't flinch when she placed a hand on your shoulder. You missed the pain on Joel’s face at the way you allowed her to comfort you, but had moved away from his attempts. She pulled you a step back from him, and another, until she finally turned you away as your tears spilled over.

Tommy shook his head when Joel made a move to follow the two of you, and you pretended not to notice their gazes on you as they strode by.

“How could they just…” Your voice broke off at the edges, and you felt the haze to your eyes returning as you looked at Maria, the realisation that you were alone hitting you harder than any of your fear ever had. That was fear; a possibility of what could happen, whereas this… this was reality.

And your reality was that nobody loved you enough to stay.

PART TWO

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller angst #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #joel miller platonic #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #heartpascal writes

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 2 months

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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

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moonydustx · 28 days

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Zoro, Luffy, Ace, Mihawk, and Lucci as well as Crocodile x Reader, what if the reader, one day tells them that they are pregnant, how would they react/ How would they be as parents? ( also maybe add some parenting shenanigans, knowing these guys.)

OMG! You have no idea how much I loved your request. I know, I know, it took me a looooong time to respond. But after a few migraines (and anxiety), I'm back. I was already thinking about doing something like that, but I was lacking some kind of inspiration so thanks <3 Maybe I got carried away with writing, I'm terrible at summaries and things like that , but I hope you like it.

The structure is kind of: them discovering the pregnancy, them dealing with the pregnancy and a small hint of how they deal with the children.

Warnings are placed individually in each story.

I'm dividing it into two parts so as not to be exhaustive. (I'm sorry, I reaaaally got carried away writing it).

PART 2 HERE - Lucci, Mihawk and Crocodile.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Zoro

Warnings: Fluuuff, super fluff. F!Reader has a bad health at the beginning of this one. Sanji is Zoro's daughter's favorite person for food reasons.And of course, Zoro is protective and jealous (especially towards the little girl).

It should have just been a momentary relief, you didn't expect the little escapades between you and Zoro to turn into a relationship. Much less did I expect to have seen the two blue lines on the small stick that you kept hidden in your small desk. How to raise a baby in Sunny? How to tell Zoro that the relationship between the two of you would now gain another part?

You wished you had more time to think about the solution, more time to even clear your doubts with Chopper, but the little being inside you insisted on demonstrating its existence. One of the days, you had almost passed out on top of Franky - who obviously freaked out. In the other, he had eaten twice as much as Luffy ate and had to come up with a lame excuse. This time, it was the third time in a row that you had put food in your mouth and it barely lasted minutes in your stomach.

"Hey…" you heard your name being called from outside the bathroom, but it was a female voice. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine, Robin."

"I believe that fine is not the term that best defines your situation." she laughed, still outside. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, you reached out and opened the door, giving her space to enter. "What's our plan?"

"What do you mean our plan?"

"Nausea, dizziness, food cravings, and all the noise you and Zoro make when you're alone." with every word that came out of her mouth, you could feel your skin turn pale. "The swordsman doesn't know yet, right?"

"Not yet." your face sank into your own hands, frustrated with the indecision that plagued your mind. "What do I do, Robin?"

"I suggest you talk to your boyfriend soon, I believe he might accept the idea better than you might expect." She smiled gently, brushing aside the strands of hair that stuck to your face. "However, right now he's trying to kill the cook because he thinks he gave you some spoiled food."

Robin's light laugh was left behind as you ran towards the screams, which had seemed imperceptible before now became increasingly audible.

"Stupid cook, he doesn't even know how to make an egg properly."

"You moldhead, shut your mouth."

"Mold is what you're putting in your food."

"You two stop." you stood between the two, shouting at the top of your lungs and interrupting their argument and the laughter of the others, who were entertained by Zoro and Sanji fighting. "I just… I just need…" the air seemed to disappear from your lungs and the scorching sun above you became just a black screen.

Minutes, hours, days, when your eyes opened, you felt so tired that you couldn't calculate how long you were gone. The first thing that crossed your field of vision was Chopper walking from side to side with a stethoscope in hand.

"Ah, you're awake!" he came happily by your side.

"What happened?" you knew very well what had happened, but first of all you needed to find out what the little doctor had already discovered.

"I'm sorry, but Robin told me some things." He placed the cold item to listen to your heartbeat, remaining silent for a few seconds.

"And is everything okay? I mean, with…" the word seemed to disappear from your lips, it was difficult to bring up the idea without knowing how the other party responsible for it would react.

"These days helping Franky, all this commotion from the fight, from my diagnosis, you're just exhausted. And a little dehydrated too, and that's not good for you or the baby." he explained, sweetly as usual. "By my reckoning, you must be two months pregnant. I'll talk to Luffy and Nami, so we can quickly find an island and secure supplies."

"Wait!" you held him, even though the reindeer hadn't moved. "Can I talk to Zoro first?"

"Of course, he doesn't know yet, right? But he's out there, very worried."

"Do you mind calling him for me?" you asked and saw him nod, leaving the small infirmary.

Your body still feeling heavy from fatigue, you sat down thinking about what words to use, how to bring up such an important subject. The door opened, but you lacked the courage to face the man who stopped in front of you. His silhouette on the ground began to become more real and closer, only then did you realize that he had bent down to be at your height.

"Ready to talk about this?" he whispered and adjusted his posture, remaining standing in front of you as your legs dangled off the bed.

"About what?" His eyes dropped from your face, went to your stomach and looked back at you. To his surprise, he found your orbs wide open in surprise. "How do you know?"

"I was looking for my material to clean my katanas, I missed the drawer and ended up opening yours. I found something strange there and asked Robin. As the drawer was yours, the test could only be yours." he listed with the most passable face in the world.

At the same time it lifted a burden from your conscience. You wanted to kill him for leaving you in agony and thinking of ways to bring up the subject.

"I understood." Your voice was calmer than you could have expected, but you could feel your eyes burning with pure anticipation - and hormones, which you would still discover how much they would affect you. "And what do we do now?"

"We continued sailing." Noticing your stress, one of his hands joined yours, on top of your belly. "And if it becomes too risky, beyond my ability to protect you both, we step aside for a while and then the three of us come back when it's safe."

You wanted to be grateful that he didn't freak out, you wanted to freak out yourself or even say "What do you mean we're step aside?", but the only things that came out of you were tears and sobs, as you clung to his torso.

"I-I thought you would hate me…" a lot more sobs, a lot more tears. "And you was going to leave me on some island."

"I would never do that."

"And I-I wanted to eat the salad Sanji makes."

"You can ask that idiot." Zoro gave his arm, he didn't understand much about pregnancies, but when he found out about the subject Robin explained some things about hormones and sensitivity, while Chopper, in the little time he had to call him, had warned him about the health conditions of the woman who he loved most in the world. Arguments with the cook could wait.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He had to contain his own laughter hearing you say such nonsense. "I promise to take care of you both, here at Sunny or anywhere else."

Zoro couldn't define his promise about taking care of you better. The remaining months of pregnancy passed faster than you could imagine, despite you being left out of any and all activities. No fighting, no major exploration, no staying near stairs or high places. On the other hand, there was a type of exercise that your hormones craved - and consequently, disturbed the entire team.

After long hours of labor, you didn't know who was screaming more - you, in pain, Zoro desperately wanting Chopper to do something or Luffy thinking you were going to die, seeing the blood when he decided to peek into the room. When little Kuina was born, everyone, including you, discovered a new side of the swordsman. More careful, delicate, he held the little girl like the most precious thing in the entire universe. The three swords were no longer tied to him all the time, the insults directed at the cook became a little lighter when the little girl with green hair was nearby.

"Uncle Sanjiiiii" the girl, now five years old, ran and hummed towards the kitchen, clinging to the cook's leg. "Can you make 'rispy potatos for me?"

"Of course my dear, just give me a few minutes." you saw the cook laugh at her pronunciation, but he already knew the girl's favorite dish and no, they weren't the spicy ones.

"Why don't you ask me?" Zoro grumbled, crossing his arms and forcing you not to make fun of him and destroy the little authority he had - yes, little because the man had a soft heart towards his daughter. Not to mention the small jealousy he accumulated towards little Kuina.

"Uncle Sanji's are tastier." she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing with the cook afterwards.

"You know what? Let's see." Zoro marched to the edge of the sink and took the girl from the cook's legs. "You go with your mommy there while we go prepare something."

"Please don't kill yourselves." you murmured, picking the small girl up in your arms. "And you my love, what do you think about going to see Usopp fishing?"

"Yay!"

Zoro practically growled at Sanji and began to dedicate himself to his tasks. Boiled and roasted potatoes, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside in small pieces, was his daughter's favorite dish, it wasn't that difficult, was it? The presentation wasn't the best, at least not compared to Sanji's, but he watched the girl try a little of each dish. After thinking for a brief moment, she pulled out the plate made by Zoro and began to eat happily.

"This one! The dad ones!" She offered you a small potato, which you accepted. "Daddy knows how to make it too! Now I can eat 'rispys every day."

The flavor was good, but you knew that cooking wasn't your now husband's strong point. You reached out and took a small piece of Sanji's and understood what it was, seeing the blonde blink quickly at you, unnoticeable to the other two. In this case, your husband was now holding your daughter on his lap and spinning her around while she was thrilled that he would now have a new potato supplier.

"Uncle Captain Luffy will like it. Dad, shall we take some for him?" she asked showing with her little fingers the small amount she wanted to share and as always, Zoro immediately answered her.

"You know he's going to eat it all, don't you my dear?" He took the plate with his free hand and left with the girl on his lap.

"Thanks." you turned to Sanji, who smiled.

"I may not be a fan of the mosshead, but I wouldn't accept seeing little Kuina disappointed." he replied, removing the dishes that had accumulated on the table and tasting some of the potato he had made. "I just didn't add any seasoning."

"The shitty cook doesn't know how to cook." you both heard him cheering outside and Kuina right behind. "Shitty cook, shiiiity, shit."

"Zoro!"

"I think I already regret helping." the blonde grumbled, watching you follow the two and give him a good scolding.

Luffy

warnings: Fluff, angst with a happy ending. Luffy is a lot more mature than usual in this one, mention of F!Reader being hurt (nothing serious). Gear 5 Luffy (yes, I'm still excited about his latest appearance). The child's name is Ravi, which means sun.

The floor of the small room that the two of you shared seemed to be about to sink with all the turns you had already taken and you were amazed that the test in your hands hadn't yet broken from so many times that it bumped against your fingers in pure anxiety.

"Hey, did you call me?" Luffy appeared at the door noticing that you were alone. "Finally, just the two of us!" he vibrated, about to grab you.

Since the two of you had left Foosha Village, you hadn't let go of each other. You started as rivals when you were children in Dadan's house and it took you a few months after entering the sea to understand the true feelings you had for each other. It didn't take long for him to call you his own pirate queen and introduce you as his girlfriend.

"Hi! Are you around?" he waved in front of you, taking you away from the memories of a past that was already distant and so different from what you would face.

"Luffy, we need to talk." you tried to take a firmer stance.

"As your captain or as your boyfriend?" He remembered the little agreement the two of you had made, to separate matters to maintain order - more precisely so you wouldn't kill your boyfriend when he stole food from your plate and, consequently, be left without a captain too.

"I think both, I don't know." a frustrated sigh left you, shoulders carrying the immense burden of fear. "I was feeling strange a few days ago, I was late…"

"Late for what?"

"I'm pregnant!" you spat out the words quickly. If the man hadn't been paying attention, he would barely have caught it. "I'm pregnant, Luffy."

"This is…" he sat down on the bed, lowering his head. You had never touched on such a subject, it barely crossed your mind what his attitude would be.

"I understand it's a lot, I'm scared too…Luffy?"

His laughter took over the room as soon as your feet left the floor and he turned you around, pressing your body tightly against his arms.

"A baby! A mini me or a mini you!" he vibrated and noticed your expression close. "Don't you want a mini me?"

"Not that. Just don't…" your hand went to your mouth, containing the nausea. "No spins, for a while."

"Ah, sorry." he placed you on the ground, more carefully. "How do you feel?"

"A little scared, I guess." You laughed lightly when you saw him bend down to analyze your belly. He promptly put his ear to it, trying to hear something. "Babe, the baby is the size of a grape now, it's a little hard to hear."

"But I know he knows I'm here. A boy!" He placed a quick kiss on your skin. You wouldn't question the fact that he's sure the baby is a boy.

"I think this is the best treasure I could find." you murmured, hugging your boyfriend and allowing yourself to stay there for a few seconds.

"Love?" his voice called to you quietly. "Can I tell everyone?"

"For sure!"

"Guys!!!" He barely waited for you to respond and pulled you out the door, shouting for his friends. "Let's have another crewmate."

"What idea is this Luffy?" Nami cut off her own scolding when she saw him pointing at her belly.

"We're going to have a baby!" your fear ceased for a while when you saw everyone vibrate with the news.

The time you had to find your balance, you lost when you felt Nami and Robin hug you together, happy for the news. It didn't take long for your other companions to congratulate you on the new life that had emerged there.

"Luffy, we need to stop at an island soon so I can get some materials." Chopper warned and the captain immediately agreed.

"Sanji, can we have a feast to celebrate, please." Luffy asked for cook, being interrupted by you who joined him.

"Meat…" the word alone brought the flavor to your mouth. "I need to eat meat and a pie, please Sanji. It could even be meat pie." you asked, clinging to the cook, in the best Luffy style. Noticing the attitude, you soon resumed your posture. "I think I have a little craving… for meat."

It was undeniable that Luffy's genes were strong in the little child who was growing month by month. Restless, the unborn baby was always making you incessantly hungry and seemed to think your belly was made of elastic. Anyone who looked at you would find you with a small package of snacks in hand or grumbling to Luffy about why he had to insist on poking your belly when the baby was quiet, making the child start kicking again. Luffy still didn't seem to have much of an idea of what having a pregnant girlfriend was like. Occasionally he would steal your snacks or make plans that involved you, getting slapped by other companions.

"She's strong and I'm sure our son will be too." was his common response every time.

The contour of the bulge of your belly was already noticeable at six months of pregnancy and even so, you liked to follow Luffy and the others on each new island they stepped on. This time, you didn't expect that a little shopping break would turn into a horror so quickly. An enemy of Luffy had found you along with Nami and Sanji and even though the cook was capable of fighting, he couldn't hold off the man and his henchmen for so long.

Your head was small compared to the man's hand that held it. The instinct taking over your body made you bring your arms to your belly, protecting the being that was developing there, while he dragged you to where Luffy was. As you approached, for the first time in a while you saw terror in your beloved's eyes.

"I see there have been interesting changes." The man's slurred voice irritated you more than usual. He lifted you off the ground and gave your stomach a little poke. "As far as I know, I bet it's a little straw hat."

"Let. Her. Go." the threat implied in Luffy's voice was different than most times. You remembered seeing him like this when a tenryuubito decided to hit Hatchan, but still, he seemed to have more hate in him than you had ever witnessed. "I told you, keep your hands off her."

"As you wish."

Disdain was present in the man's every attitude and in the same way that he had barely used his strength to lift you, he did the same to throw you meters away. With the wind against your body and the screams of your friends like blurs passing by you, you cringed and waited for the impact that didn't come. Instead, you felt something wrap around you and your body land against something soft.

When you opened your eyes, you found Luffy holding you, putting you on your feet even though he didn't let go.

"You're okay, you're alive, you're okay…" the words came out of his mouth like a mantra. It was like seeing relief and fear walking side by side.

As soon as his hands released you, you felt yourself staggering, being supported by someone behind you. Luffy's hands held your face delicately as if a breath could take you away. He took off his straw hat and placed it on you and one of his hands rested on your belly, feeling the agitation under your skin, which seemed to bring the lucidity he needed.

"Jinbe, take her back to the ship." Luffy didn't bother to look at his companion who had just approached, his eyes roamed your face in search of any discomfort. The hand that remained on your face wiped away a small tear that insisted on falling. "Take Chopper with you, get all the tests possible."

"I am fine." you tried to reassure him, seeing that your words had been in vain. "Baby, we're both fine."

"Zoro, protect them." Luffy asked and only then did you realize it was the swordsman supporting you. "Don't let anyone get close to them. Don't let anyone lay a hand on my girl and my son."

"Okay. Jinbe, you carry her. Chopper, stay alert too, but your priority is to get to the ship with the two of them." the mate gave the orders and before your feet left the ground, you felt Luffy place a quick kiss on the small gap between your forehead and the straw hat.

"Those who are left, don't let any of his idiots get out of here. I'm going to finish that bastard off." the last glimpse you saw of Luffy was of his hair turning white.

Something changed that day. The baby was fine, you were fine - enough for Zoro to restrain you and prevent you from returning to the battlefield. Lying on your bed, you curled up again, this time wracked with worries about your captain and boyfriend. Using the straw hat as your companion, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and wait. The sun was already gone when you woke up from your brief nap to feel arms squeeze you tightly.

"Lu?" you turned around and found him smiling, even if a little lighter than usual. Some scratches on the face, but apparently fine.

He took your lips voraciously, capturing them and holding them to his. Your hands soon tangled in the dark strands of his hair and gave him space to fit around your legs, but Luffy moved away.

"Chopper said you're okay, just scared, but you need to rest so our son can be okay too." the captain slid on the bed, until his face was aligned with your belly.

Luffy lifted the cloth that hid your skin and covered your belly with kisses, in silence. Your hands, which previously sought to get tangled in his hair, opted for a light caress.

"I promised to protect you two and today…"

"Today you protected us, love." you interrupted before he even considered finishing the thought. Taking one of his hands, you led him to where the child was kicking. "And someone agrees with me."

From that day on, you saw Luffy change and consequently, you did too. He no longer teased you about your strange diet and didn't even make jokes about the snoring you started to have every night or because you looked like a cuddly ball - except when he, with the help of Usopp and Chopper - tied a watermelon to his belly. and pretended to be you at the end of the pregnancy. Now the words you had said to him "I think this is the best treasure I could find" made more sense to him.

It was early morning when little Ravi was born. The sea water was more crystal clear than usual and your body was sweating cold even though the night was hot when the first contractions hit and lasted throughout the morning. Chopper had chosen Robin and Nami as assistants while Luffy remained there by your side, using the power of the fruit to avoid feeling the strong grip of your hand against him.

Along with the first rays of the morning sun, Ravi came into the world and illuminated Luffy's face. As soon as the boy stopped crying in his father's lap, it was like watching two long-lost friends reunite after so much waiting, Luffy didn't know that he had been waiting for this his whole life and now he knew that he would never be able to stay away from the boy. In a way, it reminded you of the way little Luffy looked at Ace with admiration when they were still children.

He took the feeling seriously since little Ravi became his father's shadow and Luffy didn't make much of a point of preventing the boy from doing something wrong.

"Luffy!" you screamed as you saw him about to throw the two year old into the air.

"But he likes it."

"Sun…Ravi." the little one mumbled a few things.

"See? He wants to reach the sun." Luffy laughed, throwing the child at a much lower height than he intended at the beginning, eliciting a laugh from the baby. "Who wants to go again?"

"That's enough, you two." You stretched your arms to catch the baby, who promptly reached towards you. "It's time for someone to eat!"

"Yay! Let's eat some good food, kid." Luffy ignored you and headed to the kitchen. Before he reached the door, you took little Ravi from him.

"Just little Ravi." you corrected him and saw him mumble.

With each passing year, he became even more like his own father, which meant double work for you. At least at 8 years old, Ravi still had a little more calm than Luffy.

"Zoro!" he walked across the deck to the swordsman "My father said he was going fishing."

"That's good, it means fresh fish for lunch."

"The problem is that the fish caught him. He hasn't come back to the surface for a few minutes." Ravi said without much concern. "Can I go get him? I know how to swim, I don't think my daddy can."

"What the fuck Luffy!" Zoro dropped his swords and threw himself into the sea, attracting his other companions.

"Do not even think about it." Nami warned the boy who was about to reach for one of Zoro's swords.

"But Nami…" he mumbled, lacking the patience to argue. In the same way that she imputed fear to the father, it worked on the son.

"They're too big for your age." you saw him mumble just like Luffy and you had to hold back your laughter.

"Ravi!" Luffy's voice attracted the two of you to the end of the ship where he was, soaked and being scolded immensely by Zoro.

"Wow dad, what a big fish. All this for us?" the boy poked the little monster lying in the deck.

"That's right." Luffy laughed alongside the boy. You thought it was adorable that their laugh was identical.

"Hey Sanji, I'm hungry." they both shouted. Apparently, the appetite was also similar.

Ace

Warnings: fluff, a little angst until Ace finds out, Marco and F!Reader are best friends. Ace just wants to be loved by his baby. And for the record, I know Whitebeard would be a badass grandfather.

"Wait…" Marco began, analyzing your figure standing there biting his nails in front of him. "I thought you heard me when I explained it to you. You know, condoms, medicine, yoi."

"I heard, but maybe I forgot one…" his critical look made you change your tone. "Okay, I forgot to use protection a few times."

"Sit there already." he gave up and waited for you to curl up on the stretcher. Once you did, you watched him prepare a small kit.

"Why do you keep a pregnancy test kit?" You tried to take the object from his hand, but the doctor quickly dodged it.

"I don't keep it." Your eyes watched him concentrate and insert the needle into your arm, drawing a small amount of blood. "You've only been vomiting for two weeks and you've also been refusing to drink with alcohol. I'm a good doctor, yoi."

"And now?"

"Now…" he dripped the blood onto a small white spatula and placed it next to you on the stretcher. "We waited, for five minutes."

"All of this?"

"I've been waiting for you to bring this up for two weeks, don't complain." he replied.

"I needed Ace to be busy or out of here." you simply responded, turning your attention to the clock hanging next to one of the cabinets.

For the remaining minutes you stood there, legs shaking from side to side and watching a Marco as anxious as you. As soon as the hand reached the long-awaited minute, the two of you turned to the test together.

“Two risks…” you started.

"Positive. Looks like I've been promoted to uncle!" the man smiled, containing the feeling when he saw your face.

"I'm pregnant." the phrase still sounded strange to your ears, so sudden and unexpected. "I'm pregnant." you tested again, trying to improve your expression.

"You're pregnant! Now we need to do some more tests to make sure everything is ok. Dad will be happy when he hears about this." Marco placed the test results on a table away from the two of you. "I suggest an ultrasound, it would also be good to see some blood tests."

"My God, Marco, I'm pregnant!" A certain happiness crossed your expression, eliciting a laugh from your closest friend and brother.

"Now you're ready to jump…"

"You are pregnant?" you both turned as you heard a third voice join the room.

Ace looked at the two of you, waiting for some kind of justification, but at the same time it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. You were still there, the same girl he had left to follow to a nearby island a few days ago, but now it seemed different. There was almost a glow emanating from you to his eyes.

"Ace, can we talk?" your voice reached his ears, but his mind was in a distant place.

Ace took a few steps back, moving away from the small infirmary and disappearing from your field of vision. You and the doctor looked at each other, surely this was the last reaction either of you would have thought of having.

"Are you feeling good?" Marco's voice pulled you back to reality. "Hey, look at me, yoi."

"I need to talk to him." You ignored your friend's question and went in search of your boyfriend.

From his reaction, you knew you had two options and to solve the first of them, you leaned over and saw that the Striker was still docked and with no one around, you immediately ran towards your room, finding the door closed.

Two knocks weren't enough to get his attention, so ignoring any possible chaotic scene you were going to encounter, you entered the room unceremoniously. The idea of finding the room on fire crossed your mind, but was soon dismissed when you found Ace sitting on the bed, his face buried in his hands.

"Babe, please." You asked, trying to keep your tone calmer - despite the internal desperation in him hating you. "Please talk to me."

"Y-You…" his dark irises met yours and only then did you realize that your beloved's eyes were full of water. "I'm going to be a father?"

"My love, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Urgently, you moved closer, holding his face in your hands. "I know it's kind of scary, but I promise we'll figure it out."

"No, no. That's not the problem." he sniffled, not allowing any of the tears to flow. His hand threatened to touch your belly and withdrew. "What if I'm not a good father? What if this child doesn't love me."

"Think about how much I love you Ace, how much you love me." you stated almost obviously, gaining his attention. "What can come out of here, besides love?" your hands found your belly for the first time after the discovery.

Your body was enveloped in a tight hug, his face was almost buried in your belly, while you caressed his dark locks.

"I love you so much." He turned to you, noticing the slight discomfort, he moved his chin away from your stomach. "Oops, I'm sorry."

"It's okay…Ace!!" you screamed as you felt your body hit the bed, now with him fitting between your legs.

When it came to loving you, Ace could be as hot as the fire that emanated from him, strong as the waves that insisted on crashing against Moby Dick. Except that day. His lips touched yours gently, his body didn't press against yours, just covered it lightly. The delicate kisses went down to your belly, being placed as if they always belonged there. His lips found your face again, his smile hovered over yours.

"We need to talk to Marco." he began, interrupting himself to allow his kisses to cover your face again. "I need to know everything that's going on."

"Well, you know now."

"Not this." he grumbled. "We need exams, to know if everything is ok with you two, we also need to know what a baby needs. My god, are you going to give birth here at Moby Dick? We barely have room for the two of us…"

"Calm down, stay calm." you asked as you watched him spiral. With his support, you got back on your feet, holding out your hand for him to get up. "I have a better idea of what we can do."

You expected some commotion, of course. Maybe even a few tears. You didn't expect to see Ace crying like a baby when telling Whitebeard that he was going to be a grandfather and consequently, bringing some tears from your old man and several other colleagues also shedding tears. It was good to know that your little baby would arrive surrounded by love.

The months that followed the discovery were more peaceful than you imagined and even though for a long time you had insisted to your father that there were too many men on that ship, you couldn't complain about being so spoiled.

Want to eat something different? Thatch had it ready within minutes of you ordering. Marco walked like a shadow behind you and Ace - this by his own choice and by Whitebeard's direct order, since on one of the days you were sick, you had almost killed the three men of the heart. It was adorable to see how Ace worried about the mission that was getting closer every month. More than once, you found him in Whitebeard's room, asking for tips on what to do with the baby, how to help you at this time and how he could be a good father. The idea of not being loved by his own son haunted him more than you might expect. Everything seemed great, except one detail: the two of you couldn't agree on the name.

The little baby decided to arrive a few weeks ahead of schedule, which caused widespread chaos on the boat. Ace was having dinner with the other commanders when your scream reached his ears, along with Whitebeard's scream that echoed louder than any earthquake he had ever created, prompting them to speed up the preparations for the birth. Apparently, immense pain arose when you and your father were talking, which led you to stay in the ship's medical wing for hours. Your screams were heard throughout the ship while Ace served as your support point. The little boy was born and if you hadn't been feeling so weak, you would have laughed at the screams of joy coming from outside the room as they heard his cries.

"Ace?" you called to him, who held you even tighter in his arms. "I think I have an idea for the name. Can you see if we can use it?"

You whispered in his ear, making Marco curious. Ace delicately left behind you, who was holding the little baby and ignoring the blood that still stained his hands, he left the ship in search of a specific person. A few minutes later, you saw your beloved enter the room again, accompanied by your dad.

"Can I take that as a yes?" you saw Whitebeard bend down to get closer to the baby. "Meet your grandson, Alev Edward Newgate."

If you were spoiled during your pregnancy by Ace, you couldn't imagine what it would be like with little Alev. The child was never alone - or at least walking on two feet. There was always one of his uncles who could pick him up and carry him around the ship. Marco, who called himself the child's uncle and godfather even though he had not been baptized, had already lost count of how many times he had to redo the serums and medicines he applied to Whitebeard, since Alev - with his grandfather's permission, used the height difference to make it like a little personal slide.

And Ace, who was completely in love with the little piece of love you two had brought to the world, even when he messed up.

"Papa!" you and Ace, who were playing cards with other friends, heard the child scream and a laugh soon after. You already lowered your deck knowing that it anticipated some new prank.

"What is it Alev?" Ace spoke loudly so the boy could hear him and know where he was.

You don't know how your blood pressure didn't drop or how Ace didn't have a heart attack when he saw the child in your not-so-calm and serene days coming twirling a burning cloth in one hand and in the other a lighter that only God should know where he found.

"Look papa, I can control fire just like you!" the boy rolled the cloth and you prepared to move forward and take it from him, but you were anticipated by Ace, who placed his hand exactly where the cloth would hit Alev's freckled face.

"You can't do that, ever again." Ace raised his voice, taking the cloth that was half ash and the lighter from the boy. "You are crazy?"

"But daddy, I want to be like you."

"That doesn't mean setting everything on fire, my little flame." you warned and saw the child threaten to cry. Ace noticed immediately, regretting the little scream.

"I can't believe you're such a crybaby." Ace said in a teasing tone, throwing the boy over his shoulder. "Does your grandfather know about this? He won't like having a crybaby pirate at all."

"No daddy, I already stopped, I already stopped." you heard your son mumble in the distance, drying his tears. "I just wanted to be cool like you."

"My son, you are the coolest kid ever." Ace let Alev slip out of his arms and hugged him, stopping him from reaching the ground. "You know I love you very much, don't you?"

"I love you sooooo much more daddy."

#fiction #one piece #reader insert #no use of y/n #requests open #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy x you #luffy x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #ace x you #requested

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ashwhowrites · 1 month

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Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, maybe she was gonna go to the table at the woods to spend some time with Eddie when she saw Chrissy there and she thought that they were flirting so she ends up storminess from there and Eddie sees her and tries to tell her to stay but she goes home and cries until she falls asleep. Eddie goes to her house and talks with her and explains things and they end up cuddling

I hope this is what you wanted and you like it. Thank you for requesting! 🫶🏻

The look

Eddie and Y/N haven't been together for that long, just a few short months. Before they got together, word spread that Eddie and Chrissy were beginning to get closer. Of course, nothing happened between the pair, Chrissy had a boyfriend. Eddie hung around with Chrissy as friends, which brought Eddie and Y/N together. Y/N felt like a high school girl around Eddie....which she was, but he made her all gushy.

Chrissy was the last girl on Eddie's mind when he met Y/N. The pretty cheerleader had him smitten in seconds. Sure, he used to like Chrissy and wished something could have happened. But he had a real connection with Y/N, he felt things with her that he didn't know existed.

Y/N sat bored at lunch, she knew Eddie was out doing some type of deal because he walked off to the woods. She touched her lips, remembering the soft teasing kiss he left. Why miss him if she could go find him?

She threw away her trash and skipped out of school. She couldn't wipe the big smile on her face as she filled with excitement to spend time with Eddie. But as she walked to the opening, she saw Eddie wasn't alone. Chrissy was across from him, giggling into her hand and swatting Eddie with the other. Y/N felt her stomach turn uncomfortably as Eddie chuckled back with a big smile.

Y/N stood silently and watched. Their body language seemed to be flirty. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Eddie had this look of adoration in his eyes. Y/N gulped as she went to turn around, not watching her step as she stepped on a large branch.

The noise caught Eddie and Chrissy's attention, Eddie smiled as he saw his girlfriend.

"Hey, baby! Come over," Eddie smiled, but it dropped when he saw the water in her eyes.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt your date, Munson." She sneered and marched off. Eddie was quick to get off the bench.

"Don't be silly, it is not a date" He said softly as he walked after her.

"Leave me alone!" she snapped and raced back to school.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think she would be upset," Chrissy said, she was worried for her friend. She felt sad that Y/N would even think she or Eddie would hurt her like that.

~~~

Eddie realized at the end of the school day that Y/N left. He spent every hour running to her classes to see where she went. Eddie didn't waste a second to race out of the parking lot and drive to Y/N's house.

Y/N groaned as she felt someone shaking her body. She felt like her eyes were glued shut from all the crying she did. She found a way to flutter them open, and she saw Eddie standing above her.

His frown deepened as he saw the puffiness to her red eyes.

"Oh sweetheart," he sadly sighed and sat next to her on the bed. He leaned down and softly kissed her lips.

She didn't kiss back, still hurt from his earlier actions. He pulled away as he felt her stiffness.

"Can I explain?" He whispered, his fingers played through her hair to help her relax. She nodded and closed her eyes. She melted into his soft touch.

"Chrissy and I are just friends, I only see her as a friend and she sees me as a friend. I love being with you, and I really like you. We were just hanging out." Eddie explained.

"You gave her that look," Y/N argued. She kept her eyes closed as the words felt like a blow to her gut.

"What look, my girl?" He asked, his finger under her chin as he tried to get her to open her eyes.

"Like she was the only girl you've ever seen. Like you were in love with her." Y/N whimpered, salty tears started to run down her cheeks. Eddie could feel the tears hitting his fingers.

"I'm not in love with her."

"Then why did you give her the look?" Y/N snapped, she opened her eyes and shoved Eddie away from her. She sat up and glared at him. She ignored the sad kicked puppy look on his face.

"I don't know what look!" He defended.

Y/N scoffed and grabbed a pocket mirror on her bedside and shoved it in his hands. "Talk about her." She snapped.

"What?" Eddie was confused as he looked into the mirror.

"Talk about her and watch your stupid eyes light up like a Christmas tree."

Eddie sighed and did what she asked. He talked about their friendship. Y/N grew irritated as his eyes never changed.

"Now you are hiding it!" She spazzed and stood up.

"I can't hide a look! I don't know what you are talking about!" Eddie laughed in confusion.

"What do you like about her?" She pushed further, she threw the mirror on the bed and stared right into Eddie's eyes.

"I like that she's my friend." Eddie shrugged.

"What do you like about me?"

Eddie perked up the question, a smile on his face. "I like everything. I like the color of your hair and how bright your eyes get. I like the feeling of your skin and how you smell. I like when we kiss, and do the other stuff." He said with a wink at the end.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes but then she saw the look in his eyes.

The look of adoration.

"what were you and Chrissy talking about?"

"You." Eddie said with a smile.

"When I saw you? You were talking about me?" She asked for clarification.

"Yes, baby. I was talking about our date from the other night. When we went on the rollercoaster and I puked behind that mom and baby."

Y/N laughed as she remembered the event. Chrissy must have laughed too, and that's what she saw. The look of adoration wasn't because Chrissy was there, but because he was talking about her.

"I'm sorry. I got jealous and got in my head." Y/N sighed, she walked and sat in Eddie's lap. She wanted to feel his body against hers. He happily wrapped his arms around her.

"It's okay. I get jealous too." He admitted. "But I only want you."

"I only want you too."

Eddie set her aside to lay her down, then he cuddled up next to her.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #ashwhowrites

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north-noire · 2 months

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My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

#yeah in this au my michael and william actually have a decent father-son relationship even after the bite. even after all that will's done.#michael just... isn't aware of what his dad did yet for the meantime.#ik william isn't a great father at ALL in canon but let me WRITE my AU the way i want okay?#hidden hands au #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf fanart #michael afton #mike afton #fnaf michael afton #fnaf mike afton #long post #my art

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andvys · 3 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

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Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through.

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it.

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you.

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room.

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features.

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him.

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back.

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you.

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you.

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.”

Steve nodded.

He too was still in disbelief.

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you.

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you.

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won.

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces.

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little.

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.”

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her.

“Huh? Who jumped first?”

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name.

You were the first to jump.

You were the one to go after him first.

You wanted to save him.

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him?

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would.

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second.

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second.

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you.

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it.

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you.

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are.

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once.

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day.

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state.

But he had never seen you like this before.

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form.

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!”

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say.

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.”

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now.

How did you feel last night?

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.”

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you.

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest.

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again.

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you.

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you.

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up.

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.”

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod.

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces.

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before.

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning

You hesitate.

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks.

He runs his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.”

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night.

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent.

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage?

You carry guilt, just like he does.

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other.

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words.

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you.

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped.

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.”

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room.

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box.

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words.

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.”

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you.

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..”

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table.

Polaroid Pictures.

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy.

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985.

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one.

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen.

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.”

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand.

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile.

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding.

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.”

“Had?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy.

Oh no.

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.”

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes.

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before.

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.”

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school.

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost.

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need.

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity.

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.”

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you.

“I let some see.”

Right. Some.

He nods and looks away.

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham.

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling.

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy.

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him.

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted.

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend.

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before.

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one.

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with.

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time.

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984.

You were friends with Billy Hargrove?

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him.

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture.

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before.

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face.

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content.

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were.

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them.

Were you and Billy dating?

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car.

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you.

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it.

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets.

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question.

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him.

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.”

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips.

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches.

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother.

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.”

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears.

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship.

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble.

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him.

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you.

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head.

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over.

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her.

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about.

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again.

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did.

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again.

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life.

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about.

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you.

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will.

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye.

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday.

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did.

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.”

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way.

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname.

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing.

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day.

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers.

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile.

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead.

“Are we.. good?”

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes.

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply.

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week.

Oh.

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows.

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.”

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting.

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding.

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.”

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you.

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again.

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second.

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again.

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie.

You blink, looking between them, back and forth.

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes.

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything.

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max.

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room.

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles.

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh.

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up.

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box.

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy.

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly.

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock.

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little.

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain.

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke.

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too.

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds.

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.”

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning.

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either.

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more.

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar.

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need.

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat.

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them.

You won’t have to live without them.

They will be more than just a short time.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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gglitch1dd · 2 months

Note

After all the things that happened in Cheating Dilf Izuku, all we need to heal a little where it hurts would be a scenario with Izuku and his family just being stupid together

Do you know the movie Grown Ups? Izuku's family along with the others sometimes remind me so much of them skskwkk

I 100% agree HAHA!!

Baking Mayhem 1

DILF IZUKU AND THE MIDORIYA FAMILY

Note: Normal Dilf Izuku AU

"Wait- no! Did the recipe say fifty minutes or fifteen minutes?"

"..."

"ASAHI!"

"WHY ARE YOU TRUSTING THE ONE WITH GLASSES TO READ?!"

"WE THOUGHT YOU COULD USE THEM, IDIOT!"

"TOSHINORI!"

"Dad! There's smoke coming out of the oven."

"Shit- Toshinori grab Koda so that he isn't standing by the oven."

"Dad said a bad word!"

"It's okay when Dad says it."

"That's hypocritical."

"You know what's hypocritical? Me helping you guys make cookies for mom when i don't have to do anything."

"But it would make her happy if we all did it."

"She's my wife! My very existence is to make her happy."

"..."

"I don't think she would agree."

"WHY DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE CHARCOAL!"

"CLOSE THE OVEN!"

"I think one's on fire!"

"That one looks ugly."

"IT LOOKS LIKE UNCLE KACCHAN!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON DOWN HERE!" You shouted as you came down the stairs with a frown on your face. You had been taking a nap, just trying to get two hours of peace because you felt so drained today, but woke up to the sound of shouting downstairs.

The hysterical laughter died down and so did the shouting as standing there, red handed was your husband, holding a baking tray with green oven mitts on surrounded by your boys. Every single one of them was covered in flower in some way, the kitchen was a mess, there was a cracked egg on the counter and icing sugar packet opened.

Koda had a baking spoon in his mouth, eating the batter off of it, Shoyo had his hands covered in what must have been icing sugar, Hero was standing at Izuku's right hand side, Asahi stood at his father's left hand side and Toshinori was standing somewhere at the back holding Koda.

All sets of green eyes turned to you.

On the tray were what you hopped were cookies, but looked like burnt little gingerbread men that looked like they all died in a fire.

All the boys looked at one another before looking back at you. They all put on tense smiles, knowing how this situation looked.

Izuku let out a nervous chuckle. "We made cookies.."

You were absolutely speechless. You wish you had a camera. You put your fingers to the bridge of your nose as you tried to hold back chuckles.

"I knew she would be mad."

"She wouldn't have been mad if ASAHI KNEW HOW TO READ!"

"SAYS THE GUY WHO FAILED HIS LAST ENGLISH TEST!"

"I DIDN'T FAIL! FIFTY-SIX ISN'T A FAILURE!"

"It is in Japan."

"Maybe we should try again."

"Can the bunnies eat them?"

"Definitely not. I think they could kill one of us, let alone the bunnies."

"ALL OF YOU!" You shouted, you pointed a finger to the sliding door that led outside. "OUTSIDE NOW! Go hose yourselves off and then come clean my kitchen!"

Hero frowned. "But mom!" He whined.

"It was Toshinori's idea!" Asahi pointed to his oldest brother, adjusting his glasses as he did so. Said eldest brother had whiplash looking at him. "He should clean it up!"

"Why you rotten little piece of-"

You moved to pick up your slipper.

Suddenly all the boys kept quiet and started silently filing outside, Izuku putting down the tray on the counter with a laugh from his chest. You shook your head watching them all head outside as Hero went to go and grab the hose.

Izuku folded his arms as he watched the boys. It didn't take longer than a minute before all of them were running outside, chasing each other with waterguns and a hose, laughing and having fun. You couldn't help but ease at the sight of your little sprouts. Even though they made a mess, you knew that they were gonna remember this for a long time.

Izuku turned to look at you with a smile. "Did you enjoy your nap?" He asked.

You were going to respond before you realised something. You put your hands on your hips as you looked at him. "Why on earth are you still here Zuzu?" His face dropped at the implications. You pointed a finger to the outside, where all the boys had ditched their shirts and raced around the back garden, avoiding the bunny half of the garden all together. "Outside! Now!"

Izuku looked at you in disbelief. He let out a chuckle. "Honey I-"

"OUT!" You motioned back outside.

He sighed, knowing there was no arguing with you. Before you could do anything, he reached down and pulled you into a kiss. You let out a surprised squeak before easing. You allowed him to kiss you and let the butterflies in your stomach fly. He moved back with a smirk on his lips. "Yes ma'am."

He turned around and headed outside. The moment he stepped outside-

"QUICK! GET DAD!"

"Wait, WHAT-" Suddenly Izuku was tackled to the ground by five boys.

You couldn't help but laugh as you picked up Izuku's phone and quickly snagged a picture of all your boys together.

-Glitch1d

[Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]

#izuku midoriya x reader #mha x y/n #izuku x reader #mha #deku x reader #izuku fluff #izuku midoriya fluff #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #bnha #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku x reader #dilf midoriya #deku fluff

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neptuneiris · 6 months

Text

Behind the Scenes (02/05)

Behind the Revelation

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: after running away for second time, the past returns and you force yourself to remember as Aemond demands explanations.

word counter: 9.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

warnings: language, angst, discussion, mention of abortion, aemond being a dick.

Aemond remembers perfectly well the moment you disappeared from his life without warning.

It was precisely after his manager and all his team left your apartment once everything was clear and somehow "solved", on the same day you let him know that you were expecting his child.

He stayed a moment longer with you, comforting you and wanting to be there for you, to make you understand that you were not alone and that despite everything, he would be there supporting you and would not leave your side, ever.

But unfortunately he never knew what was really tormenting your mind. He didn't realize how hurt you were when you both made the decision.

And he didn't realize at the time what an idiot he was to you and the bad decisions he made. He only realized after you left, without warning and without a trace, as if you never existed in his life.

Stress, frustration, worry and anguish clung to him, thinking he would go mad, and he quickly turned to Criston and his entire team for help.

At first, worry gripped him. He thought something bad had happened to you when messages didn't reach you and when you called, your number was forwarded straight to the mailbox.

He asked your makeup partners about you, but none of them had any relevant information. They had only seen you the same day you told him the news.

Your disappearance, however, was not convenient for Criston, who needed to know your condition, to know about the baby.

However, when you were reported missing to the police, it was only a matter of time before they discovered that you had, in fact, run away.

He learned that you had spoken to the owner of your apartment to inform him that you would no longer be living there and also that you had quit your job. You never revealed your reasons, you simply handed in your resignation and left.

As the pieces fell into place, Aemond realized that he could not ignore reality. Your expression, described by everyone who had seen you one last time, was the same: deep circles under your eyes, a face marked by fatigue, eyes swollen with tears and sadness.

And Aemond, try as he might, could not accept it.

After you left, he pushed his entire team to find some clue to your whereabouts. He used all the resources his celebrity status afforded him, keeping a small police back-up, hiring private detectives and even trying to locate your parents, but it was all to no avail.

You simply vanished along with his child in your womb.

And Aemond could do little more than immerse himself in his thoughts, in despair and worry as he found nothing of you.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, while Aemond persisted in his search without success. In those moments he didn't care about his work, he only fulfilled the filming time of some projects, avoiding interviews, red carpets and any other public activity.

Until it was only a matter of time before in the midst of his misery, he was forced to return to the recording studios and face the cameras, continue with his work, but all the time his mind was focused on you.

Between takes and script lines, you were always on his mind and what you had once been.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to touch you and hold you tight against him, not wanting to let you go, to apologize for his behavior and beg you not to leave him, regretting over and over again that he had kept you hidden, that he had allowed so much of his work to affect you both.

And every time someone did his makeup and fixed his wardrobe, he couldn't stop thinking about you, wishing, longing for it to be you and no one else.

His one nights were only worse, he couldn't sleep and got caught in a whirlwind of his own mind, questioning himself over and over again:

Why did you run away?

He knows his behavior wasn't the best but why? Why not give him an explanation?

He could only continue to stare at a spot on his ceiling while guilt and remorse invaded him, recognizing his own mistakes, the decision he made and the one he convinced you too carry out, a selfish decision for his own benefit that now takes its toll on him.

And there in the restlessness of his luxurious apartment on Visenya Hill, Aemond is alone with his thoughts.

And he couldn't help but imagine you in scenarios you never shared, of both of you holding a little person you both created in your most intimate moments, probably with his characteristics or yours as well.

But every time he imagined it, he could see a little boy or girl with silver hair and blue eyes, making him smile softly with sadness and with his eye full of tears.

But he didn't even know if his child was still in your womb or if you had made the decision you refused to make at first. And he couldn't help but wonder, among the same questions that always torment his mind:

Where are you?

Are you all right?

Why did you run away?

Did you decide to have the baby?

Did you find support somewhere?

He just didn't know and that frustrated him too much, not knowing if you were even okay, staying in uncertainty and worry, longing to find you, to see you and know what happened.

And those same questions haunt his mind when he sees you again after almost two years. The face he desperately searched for so long is finally there, a few steps away from him, watching him with the same surprise and disbelief he feels, unable to assimilate reality.

But when you decide to escape for the second time, it is as if he receives a blow to the stomach, stripping him of all the air in his lungs.

He is paralyzed, unable to move, as he faces the reality that you are finally there, in front of him, after almost two years of searching without success.

His heart beats with overwhelming intensity and a persistent echo of confusion and surprise resounds in his mind. It is a moment when reality and emotions intertwine in a way that is almost unbearable for him.

Why did you run away?

I'm sorry!

I miss you!

But he remains motionless, as his brain tries to process the wave of emotions that threaten to drown him.

But not just from seeing you again, but from remembering every moment he shared with you, every laugh, every caress, every one night they spent together, all overwhelming him.

The need to understand, to discover the truth, engulfs him completely. And without hesitation, an inner voice screams in his head, "Move, you idiot!"

Everything seemed to crumble around him, with questions echoing back into his mind, unanswered questions. And thanks to that, a spark ignites, pulling him out of his paralysis: despair.

And that is the call to action that drives you to react immediately, determined not to let you escape again.

Every step he takes is charged with urgency, an urgency to get answers, to know what happened with a tight lump in his throat, especially at the thought of the baby.

Everything at that moment seems overwhelming, but his desire to know, or rather his need to understand your escape and to know what happened to his child, eclipses all other considerations, filling him with worry and longing.

The thought of that little being that would have been a fusion of the two of them envelops him in desperate confusion.

The vision of a part of him and you floating in the air like a faded dream haunts his mind, asking himself questions about whether you decided to go through with the pregnancy or not.

Aemond advances through the corridors of the studio with a totally worried look on his face, desperately looking everywhere to find you. And in the distance, he spots your running figure and instantly rushes after you, determined not to let you out of his sight.

You both plunge into a busy atmosphere, where you hear the subtle sound of indicator lights and the distant hum of electronic equipment.

And there you were, trying to run away from it all, with your trembling figure, having an emotional breakdown and tears streaming down your cheeks, while Aemond with desperation in his eyes, tries to catch up with you.

"Y/N, wait!"

His voice, piercing and close, only manages to increase your anxiety. You try to move away from him, desperate to evade him, willing him to lose sight of you while you don't stop.

"Wait!" he shouts in desperation, pleading.

But you can't. You don't want to and you can't face this. Not now. Not when you thought you'd never see him again.

Aemond rushes towards you, reaching for you, grabbing your arm tightly and stopping your steps, scaring you. He turns your body towards him, watching you with desperation and need, instantly catching the tears and suffering on your face.

"No!" you exclaim with concern, trying to free yourself, "No, please, let me go!"

"Y/N—" he begins to say, confused and worried, breathing agitatedly.

"Let go of me, Aemond!" you demand.

You manage to wriggle free of his grip, straining to keep your distance from each other, avoiding any contact, but he grabs your arm again, stopping you and showing irritation.

"Can't you wait a fucking minute!?" he hisses at you, annoyed, though the pain lingers in his gaze, "How do you expect me to let you go like this!? After everything that happened—

"I don't want to talk to you!" you sentence, the pain palpable in every word.

"Y/N, please," he begs you, his voice taking on a sad melody.

Her eyes search yours, desperately seeking understanding in the midst of the emotional storm you both face.

Your chest pounds with a mixture of pain and confusion, where again you try to break free from his grip, but he gives your arm a firmer grip, preventing you from pulling away, firm and resistant to your efforts.

"I told you to let me go!" you shout angrily, crying.

"Why do you keep running away!?" he demands to know, his voice annoyed, full of confusion and pain, "We need to talk and you know it! I need to understand!"

You remain silent, your gaze fixed on his face and your eyes filled with tears, as Aemond feels all his emotions threatening to boil over.

"What happened?" he demands to know, hurt, without letting go, looking for an answer in your gaze, "Where did you go?"

Again you remain silent, feeling the lump in your throat, as the tension between the two of you is palpable and the held breath of both of you is in anticipation, waiting.

"Why did you disappear?"

He insists, completely frustrated and insistent.

"I've been looking for you all this time and I could never find you. I never knew who to ask where you were or where to try to find you."

Nothing.

You say absolutely nothing.

Aemond's hand trembles slightly as he gently releases you from one of your arms, but his determination and insistence did not waver.

"Talk to me, please," he pleads, "I need to know."

And the whole moment only becomes more intense when he mentions your son.

"W-what… what happened to our child?"

A silent pain crosses your face, but your lips remain sealed, trembling slightly. Frustration increased in Aemond's chest as he receives no response from you and it also makes his anger increase.

"What happened to him, Y/N?" he snaps, his patience reaching its limit.

And you, still trembling from all this, find yourself caught in the vortex of it all, your eyes reddened, your gaze hard and hurt, where you couldn't find the courage to answer the questions accusing you.

And Aemond, for his part, let the anger and resentment flow like a raging tide against you.

"How could you just walk away? Disappear without a word?" he says, his voice carrying with it the weight of betrayal he feels, "I was willing to help you. I-I thought we could get through this together, but you just took off, left me and vanished as if you never existed."

His every word echoes around you, the accusation hangs heavy in the air, and you, feeling the courage flowing through your veins, decide to answer him with the same intensity.

"Help me?" you repeat, earnest and hurt, "Oh, right, you mean that 'help' you were planning to offer by not acknowledging your own child publicly and legally so as not to ruin your career?"

The words leave your lips with a cutting tone, like a sharp blade aimed straight at his heart, where surprise flashes all over Aemond's face, as if that revelation had come as an unexpected blow, even though he already knew.

And before he can articulate a response, you continue, your voice echoing with pain, annoyance and defiance.

"I left so I wouldn't ruin your career, whether I had the baby or not. Because if I had an abortion, eventually the media would know, right?" you inquire regretfully, "But that's not exactly why I left," you clarify, "What other choice did I have if I decided to have it? Hide with my child until you decided the time was right? Live in the shadows while you enjoyed the spotlight?"

The recording set, even with its cinematic sounds and the frenetic activity of those working on it, now resonates with the clash of arguments and emotional charge unleashed between him and you.

And he, still processing the raw truth being revealed to him, tries to defend himself, but you don't give him a chance.

"I stand by my decisions, Aemond. I wasn't going to be a prisoner to anyone's expectations, even if it was you," you spit, your gaze still pained but defiant. "You weren't going to acknowledge your child for the sake of your career, at least not in his early years or who knows after how long. And what was the benefit if you did it later? We would finally see the light after all we would have gone through with your manager and your whole team to keep saving your reputation?"

Your words float in the air, creating a dense silence that fills the space between the two of you.

Despite the raw, exposed emotional wounds, Aemond desperately searches for words that might calm the intensity of the moment somewhat. However, neither you nor he can deny the truth, as it becomes clear that you are right.

But still, with a lump in his throat, he tries to defend himself with a vulnerability you haven't seen in him in a long time, exactly since you let him know of your pregnancy.

"I didn't mean to… I-I… I didn't know how to handle it," he mumbles, his expression reflecting confusion and remorse.

You sniffle and let a couple more tears fall down your cheeks, your eyes full of pain but also determination.

"That's the thing. You always thought about your career, your image, but what about us?" you ask him in your broken voice, "What truly mattered most?"

The question echoes between the two of you, leaving Aemond without a convincing answer.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, looking at you with regret, "I shouldn't have done that, I know," he tells you honestly, "I shouldn't have let Criston and the others interfere too much. But…" he sighs, "I-it wasn't easy for me."

And you, undeterred, feel disbelief wash over you and reply bitterly.

"It wasn't easy for you?" you repeat, "And what about me?" you inquire, "Did you ever think about what it would be like to put yourself in my shoes?"

"Y/N—

"You only thought about yourself, just like everyone else, while I also had to think about everyone else but me," you say hurt, "And I didn't want to cause you any more trouble. I had to have, raise and care for my son all by myself."

The revelation hits Aemond like a bolt of lightning, his eyes widen in shock and disbelief, staring at you in disbelief.

"A son?" he repeats in a whisper, taking it in.

You stare at him for a moment, not understanding, but after you realize that in all this time you have told him nothing concrete about your son, you see the realization all over his gaze, that regret and longing.

You let out a long breath as you look away from him for a moment and bring one of your hands to wipe away your tears, feeling that sharp pain in your chest.

While Aemond, he really couldn't say a single word that could ease the pain he has caused you.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible, "I was selfish, I didn't think correctly."

"No, because you only thought of yourself and I faced everything alone. I didn't want to cause you trouble or be a burden, I decided it was better not to drag you into this for your career, so as not to affect your life, so I decided to leave. And I don't want to affect you now either."

You say as you begin to back away and Aemond, feeling the ground crumble beneath him, again stops you.

"Y/N, please, we can fix this, just… don't leave, not again," he pleads with you, his gaze full of anguish as he urges you to stay.

"There is nothing to fix," you tell him with hopelessness in your voice, completely broken, "Your life remains the same and my only priority is my son."

"He's my son too!" he exclaims, frustration and annoyance creeping into his voice. "You think I don't want to know him, take care of him and do the right thing? Of course I do!"

He, glassy-eyed, tries to make you understand by looking at your face, but you can't.

You can't and you don't want to.

"But, Aemond, it's not just that," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Your career, your life, it's still the same. And I don't want my son to live under the gaze of the entire press, making speculations about you and me. Nor do I want you to feel obligated to be a part of his life out of guilt."

He, feeling helpless, tries to hug you, but you pull away, but he again with his worried look full of determination, holds you again.

"No Y/N, I swear it's not like that, I promise," he clarifies to you, sad, "And this is not only for our son, but also for you. I want to be a part of your life, his life."

The dilemma hung in the air, the tension between the two of you forming an invisible barrier. And you, with tear-filled eyes, know this is not possible.

"I can't," you whisper to him in your broken voice.

And despite this, he doesn't give up, rather he persists with words laden with pain and determination.

"I know I made mistakes and that I failed you, but I'm not going to let this go and you must know that."

His words send a shiver down your spine and you feel the urge to scream at him to leave you alone, that everything is already done, that he can't just come and change something that is already built between you and your son.

And before you can respond, a production assistant rushes over.

You understand that you made the mistake of running away and not informing him absolutely nothing about what happened with you and his son.

But at least you're right about one thing now: you don't want your son to become the next entertainment in magazines and all the media, in case Aemond decides to publicly acknowledge him just to make amends.

"Mr. Targaryen, we need you to finalize your makeup and wardrobe. The producer is upset because the scenes are about to shoot," the concerned man announces, interrupting the intensity of the moment.

Aemond, without taking his eye off you, nods with a mechanical gesture.

"I'll be there in a second," he replies, but his attention remains anchored on you.

The man persists, trying to make him understand the urgency of the situation, but Aemond is unwilling to let you go. His gaze, full of pleading and determination, watches you intently.

"Please don't go. Wait for me to finish rolling so we can go somewhere else and talk," he pleads in his voice laden with urgency.

And you feeling caught between the intensity of the situation, you inhale deeply, feeling the man's annoyed and desperate gaze on you as well as on him.

"Fine," you say without emotion.

"Fine?" he repeats, thinking maybe he has misheard.

"Fine," you affirm.

He nods gratefully and his gaze reflects both relief and gratitude.

"I promise I'll try to finish soon," he states softly, his voice with determination.

You don't say anything back, only he finally turns away from you but his eye continues to watch you longingly and intently, as if he fears you're going to vanish again right there.

And as he begins to walk away, you inevitably dive into memories of the past, reliving both the good times and the bad times you shared with him, as Aemond wishes today's shooting would come to an end so he could get close to you again.

However, once he is no longer in your sight, nor you in his, the weight of remorse becomes evident in your chest.

Although you told him to stay and talk to him later, you find yourself unable to do so. And you quickly make your way to the nursery, take your son in your arms and leave the film set without wasting another second.

You are truly sorry for him, but this is necessary. All you want at this moment is to protect your son and also your broken heart.

ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO

"We need to approach this with caution."

Criston Cole speaks, completely serious and as he paces around the living room of your apartment, you sitting on the couch and Aemond standing with an attentive and anxious look to him.

"And there's no need for us all to make fools of ourselves, we know the most viable option at this point is an abortion."

This immediately grabs your attention, watching Criston with your eyes wide as Aemond beside him frowns and stares at him in confused disbelief.

"An abortion?"

"I'm sorry, Aemond, but your image is everything," he tells him seriously, "A pregnancy at this time will affect your career," he explains, "Right now you are supposed to be in a relationship with Cerelle Lannister and how do you think people are going to react when they find out about this?"

"We would have to make confidentiality agreements if you decide to accompany her to the clinic," his publicist speaks, "Deny rumors and manage your public image."

"But if she decides to go into the clinic on her own, it won't be so complicated," speaks a man on her PR team.

"And an abortion at home?" suggests Criston, as if it's the easiest and most normal thing in the world.

"An abortion at home is not the best, it will be more difficult and anything can go wrong. The safest thing is the clinic."

You all start talking about different techniques to preserve Aemond's reputation, which is his job, while you stand there among everyone in silence, horrified at the thought of an abortion and overwhelmed by the magnitude of the decisions they are suggesting around you.

You look at Aemond completely panicked and looking for his support, but he is completely focused on his team.

"And how could we hide it? I mean, how exactly would that be handled if I decided to accompany her to the clinic?"

Disbelief washes over you completely, watching him confused and hurt.

He can't seriously consider—

"We'll implement a diversionary strategy on your behalf, like a charity event with attention-diverting photo shoots where we can work with some media to make sure the news prevails," the woman explains, "All while she goes through the process and you accompany her."

"If you are going with her to the clinic you must be completely covered," Criston tells him, "I will form a security team for you, we will lock down the entire clinic so that only she is attended to and so no one can recognize you."

"The best thing to do would be to create confidentiality contracts," suggests the same guy from before.

"Yeah, do that," Criston points out, "No one can know about this, not even the production company or your family, Aemond, you know what I mean?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asks annoyed, "How do you expect me not to tell my mother about this? Y/N's parents don't live here, she doesn't even talk to them and we need that kind of support," he says incredulously.

"Do you want this to come to light by accident?" he asks between his teeth, "It doesn't matter that it's your family, no one can know, besides all this could have been avoided if both of you and especially you had been more responsible," he reproaches him.

You listen as Aemond speaks again, but you don't pay attention anymore, you just keep silent, observing the emptiness with tears falling down your cheeks.

All while around you they keep talking about more strategies, while you, you feel that you are the spectator of your own life, feeling hopeless, sad and scared.

And that's when Aemond finally notices your state and his gaze changes, looking at you with concern and understanding, feeling like an idiot for not knowing what you want to do. You haven't even been given the option to abort, just everyone and he has already decided for you.

"No, wait," he says serious and firm, stopping his entire team, to quickly turn to you, kneeling down and taking your hands in his, "Hey, darling," he looks at you worriedly, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, "Are you okay?"

You blink softly as you lower your gaze, trying to chase away your tears but it is impossible, while the eyes of the others also watch you, where finally your voice has space in the conversation, but you look at him hurt and worried.

"Do you really want me to do this?" you ask him with your voice completely broken.

"You need to think about what's best for both of you," Criston answers you instead, "This is an accident, it's not planned, neither you nor he wanted this to happen, so the best option is an abortion."

"B-but I'm scared," you say weakly.

"And you must not only think of yourself, you must also think of him and his career."

"That's enough," he says annoyed turning to Criston rudely and annoyed, "Didn't you hear her? She's scared and she's not having a voice here. She has as much right to decide what to do as I do."

"Aemond," he warns him, "We're here to protect your career."

Aemond clenches his jaw, tension beginning to emerge throughout the room.

"Yes, I understand that, but this isn't just about me, it's about both of us and especially her. We can't make a decision without considering what she thinks."

Criston folds his arms and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Aemond, I understand your point but the reality is different. The press can be ruthless–

"Sometimes, Criston, there are more important things than the press," he replies in his firm tone. "And this is one of those times. I'm not going to sacrifice Y/N's happiness and decision for the sake of my career. We need to find a solution that works for both of us."

Criston shakes his head as he purses his lips.

"Fine," he says seriously and looking at him expectantly, then looks at you, "So tell us, Y/N, what do you want to do? Have the baby?" he asks clearly incredulous.

And you, feeling everyone's piercing gaze, making you feel nervous and scared, respond with all the fear in the world but not being unwilling to not let them know what you think is best.

"Yes," you reply quietly and with a completely vulnerable tone.

The expression on Criston's face worsens, not believing it, as well as the woman publicist and the entire PR team look shocked and annoyed.

And Criston, frustrated, can't contain his anger.

"Y/N," he calls you in a serious voice and wanting to make you understand, "This baby was not planned and all of us can help you handle this correctly and privately. We simply cannot let this affect Aemond's career."

His words echo throughout your living room, feeling the tension, as you feel the weight of all the expectant stares, feeling completely vulnerable and helpless.

"B-but I'm afraid of going through an abortion and I don't think that's—

The anger in Criston's eyes increases, while some of the team members exchanged serious and uneasy looks with the atmosphere becoming increasingly tense.

"This baby wasn't planned, Y/N," he repeats to you seriously and with a firm tone, "You can't ignore reality."

"Look, we understand that this is a complicated situation and a difficult decision," the publicist tells you, "But you must consider the impact it will have on Aemond's career if you decide to have him."

"Besides the fact that the news of an unplanned pregnancy could generate a negative narrative in the media," the PR man says.

"And it will affect his career, definitely," adds another woman.

"But I—

You try to speak, with desperation in your tone of voice completely broken and tears still streaming down your cheeks.

"Y/N, our job is to protect Aemond's reputation at all costs. And that's exactly what we're going to do."

Criston tells you as a final answer and you can only look at him completely bewildered, sad and hopeless, while in an attempt to seek support in all this, as they are deciding everything for you, you look at Aemond with clear despair in your eyes.

And he watches you with tight lips and a look of sadness, frustration and resignation, and then turns his gaze away from yours and immerses himself in his own internal struggle between his feelings and the reality of his career as he lets out a sigh.

Until finally he breaks the silence.

"Okay," he looks at everyone with a tired but determined look, then looks at you, "We'll have the baby."

Disbelief and surprise wash over you, watching him with relief beginning to reflect in your eyes, as Criston and his entire team, look on in complete bewilderment and alarm.

"Aemond��

Criston tries to speak, with clear dissatisfaction all over his eyes, but he won't let him.

"This is my responsibility too," he tells him firmly, "But it's her body and she decides."

"You're not thinking clearly—

"Listen," he interrupts again, serious, then looks at you again and turns to you, "Y/N," he says softly and with some caution, "We'll have the baby, okay? You will stay in my apartment, I will settle all the necessary expenses and I will be by your side always, making sure that you and the baby have everything you need, as it should be," he assures you.

That relief and that little spark of hope and happiness persists, until all that was beginning to bloom vanishes in a second when Aemond says the following words:

"But I cannot recognize the baby publicly or legally."

Then, everything around you stops.

His words echo continuously in your mind like a distant echo and you watch him completely bewildered, confused, hurt and even with some betrayal as your breath catches.

"Actually that might work," says his publicist, "Up to a certain time but it might work."

"Really?" asks Criston seriously but thoughtfully.

"Recognizing the baby legally and giving him his last name will be a public record and document, anyone could access it and it would be too much of a risk to Aemond's career. But by not doing so, it gives us more time and an advantage."

"You'll still be able to take care of him and be there for him, privately. And when the time comes, giving him your last name won't be a problem, you could even set a date."

Aemond listens carefully, then turns his gaze back to you, while you can't take your eyes off him and ask him silently, completely hurt: why? Why do something like this?

You understand perfectly well his job and what is at stake but what about you? The baby? Does his career really matter more?

But you can't formulate words, you just continue to watch him, until there is simply nothing more inside you, only pain and betrayal, unable to believe that he said those words and it breaks your heart even more when he says to you with remorse and seriousness.

"Y/N, please understand that I want to do the right thing, but I also need to protect my career. And this is the best I can offer you right now."

You watch him in complete silence, your eyes relieving your sadness, disappointment and sense of abandonment.

"We need to make sure that during the pregnancy Y/N and the baby are well taken care of, postpartum as well, preventing either of them from appearing in public until the time is right, keeping the news from leaking out."

"Or Y/N can go out publicly but she can't be seen with you," the man says to Aemond, "And the baby must be in cover all the time, especially if his hair is silver like yours afterwards."

And you again stand in the middle of it all, silent and resisting the urge to just cry louder. Your heart is beating too hard, where your emotions are tangled in confusion and pain.

"So it could work? For a while?" asks Aemond, hopeful, but with clear frustration and worry in his eyes, realizing that he really doesn't want to do this.

"Sure. As long as she's not seen with you during and after the pregnancy and the baby is fully protected, everything will be fine."

taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak

there were some of you that I could not tag:(

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #modern aemond

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heartless-tate · 3 months

Text

Hopelessly falling ❀ Azriel X reader

summary: Azriel is hopelessly pining after you. He rescued you two months ago and now you live in the library and help the priestesses. He spends everyday wrapped in thoughts of you, but you barely even seem to know he exists.

A/n : Hey guys! This is my first fic for this fandom, I had another account for a different fandom. But I’ve always loved SJM world and I think it’s time I started writing for it. If you want part two let me know! <3

word count; 2k

warnings; disturbing details of gore? Cussing, death, family death, mentions of murder, reader forgetting to eat, depression, blood mention, I think that covers it all? No use of y/n

Blood- blood was everywhere- and all he could focus on were eyes filled with terror staring back at him- Azriel shook the horrendous memory out of his head, wishing it had never happened this way.

Thousands of memories had compiled in his head over the 500 years of his existence, most of them being horrifying and kept him awake at night, but that night seemed to haunt him the most. But as much as he hated to say it- that night was the only reason he met you. Oh, fate was such a cruel, cruel, cruel- creature. Because that night was the same reason he never had the pleasure of seeing you smile. You now worked in the library with priestesses who had endured the same trauma as you, and while he was hoping one day you would heal mentally, he knew the chances were rare.

Azriel stretched his stiff wings and adjusted to standing on his left foot, letting the other rest. He was cloaked by his shadows as he watched you re-shelve books and push along the book cart. You seemed lost in thought, your mind in a far, far, far away place. He watched as that doll-like, lifeless, depressed look came over your face, and he wanted to growl and rip to shreds whatever was upsetting you- but he knew that he couldn't shred memories- and it made him feel more hopeless than anything. He hated it. He wanted to make you feel safe again, and make those beautiful lips spread with joy, your eyes gleaming with happiness.

He had saved you that night, wrapping you in his arms after he had killed off the attackers. He flew you to a healer, and let you make the choice of where you wanted to go- which was here. He hadn't had contact with you ever since, but thoughts of you plagued his mind making him desperate for a lick of attention from you. He wanted to give you time to heal but at this point it seemed the stench of depression on you had grown stronger everyday.

A thump sounded, snatching him away from his thoughts, as a priestess dropped off a giant stack of books in your cart to shelve. He watched as you winced at the noise, turning and sighing at the amount of books in the cart. Your eyes darkened and he knew that your mind went back to that awful place. He couldn't stand it- at this rate he was ready to put underwear on his head and dance like a maniac if it would make you smile.

You. You, you, you, you. Every time he saw you, it was like everything else stopped- the world stopping, and you- your mere presence was demanding his attention. A room full of hundreds of females and males pining after him- wouldn't even take his attention from you if you were hiding in the corner.

Azriel cursed himself, realizing he was so- hopelessly and shamelessly falling for you.

__________________________

Your cart was filled with at least 60 books at this point. People never realize how much work goes into helping at a library. After- that day, you spent your time in between the shelves, putting books back where they belonged. Usually, the work was enough to distract you from what happened two months ago. But when it was late in the hours of night and it was just you and the quiet darkness, your thoughts always went to that same place.

Screams- men shouting- and then utter silence. Piercing hazel eyes were staring at you. Arms were wrapping around you, everything was eerily quiet now. You swear you could hear blood dripping onto the floor from the body of your sibling.

“No- my- don’t take me from them please-“

Your words fell on deaf ears, whoever was carrying you pushed your head into their shoulder. You couldn’t see your sibling anymore- your hands started clawing at the jackets of whoever was taking you away- they were taking you away from them-

“Hey- it’s okay, you’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’m gonna take you to a healer, okay?” The man said. His voice was oddly gentle and sad in a way- why was he sad? It wasn’t his family who was brutally murdered in front of him. It was yours, and he was taking you away from them. Your mouth opened to scream at him to let go, but your mind processed his words. Healer? Why did you need a healer? You couldn’t feel anything. It was like everything was numb. You forcefully lifted your head despite his hands trying to block your sight. You were now in your living room, and everything reeked of death. Blood was everywhere. In the corner your fathers corpse laid still, eyes wide and unblinking. His stomach had been cut open, his organs spilling onto the floor.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream. “Papa-“

You gasped as you heard a loud noise of something falling. It was late in the evening- barely anyone was here. It was just you and a few other priestesses, and they were graceful. They rarely made loud noises like that.

Your head snapped to where the noise was from, and you spot him.

The shadowsinger was squatted on the ground picking up a book he had dropped. His eyes scanned the room as if making sure nobody had seen him being clumsy, until they landed on you. His cheeks flushed a little, and he offered you a shy smile as he stood and placed the book back in its proper place.

You wondered how he managed to drop a book- he was the night court’s spy master for cauldron’s sake! His eyes didn’t leave yours once. Some of the priestesses gossiped of his beauty, and fuck. They weren’t lying. It obviously wasn’t your first time seeing him, but it was odd to see him down here. He must’ve had Clotho’s permission. His staring was enough to make you squirm uncomfortable, and you watched as he went to take a step towards you. Nope.

You slammed your last book for this section on the shelf and grabbed your cart, rolling it away- far away from the shadowsinger. You didn’t bother turning to see his reaction as you stomped away, the racketing of the cart loud.

——————————————

Clotho shook her head with a sigh as she watched you run in. She waved a hand as you arrived at her desk, signaling she wouldn’t report you were late this time.This wasn’t the first time you had been late, here lately it was getting harder to get out of bed. The only reason you had managed to crawl out of your bed was because the memories were becoming too loud.

You thanked her, nodding your head appreciatively as you walked to where you last left your cart. It had about 50 books, and without a doubt that number would rise as you made your way through the floors. You gave the cart a test push, and a squeaky racket sounded from it. It was getting louder everyday. Clotho flinched at the sound a look of distaste towards the cart would be on her face- you’re sure of it. She holds up a sticky note that reads, ‘I’ll put in an order for a new one today.’ You gave her a thumbs up before pushing your loud cart to where you would start off for the day.

Time passes by either slowly or fastly depending where your thoughts are for the day, and you wonder if you’re going insane by the time it gets to 3 pm. Whether the growing insanity feeling is from the squeaky racket of your cart or the fact you forgot breakfast and lunch today, you’re not sure. The library gets old quick. The first month you were here, it was easy to be distracted by the towering bookshelves and the thousands upon thousands of books you see everyday. But here lately the sights grow old, and the sound of this cart is enough to make you wonder if you should check yourself into a therapist. But atlas, you don’t. You continue the waltz of shelving books everyday. As the library grows more boring everyday, you wonder if its the right place for you. You wonder if it was the right decision to stay here, considering you feel worse then you ever did.

If it wasn’t for the fact if you left you wouldn’t have any idea what to do with your life, you would’ve asked the high lord to assist you in moving to Velaris. But what would you do with your life? Rot in bed all day?

You hear a loud grumble, and you look around the library before realizing it was your stomach. It had been making unearthly sounds since 1 pm, yelling at you to eat. But it was too late, it was 3 pm. Your hands clutched at your stomach, begging it to stop. You’d eat dinner later around 5, just a few more hours away.

Oh well, there wasn’t anything to be done. You grasped a book from your cart, turning and shelving it. Your stomach growled again, distracting you from the squeaky noise your cart made. But it didn’t hide the loud thumping noise- as if someone had tripped. You turned, only catching a glimpse of a dark shadow behind the bookshelves. Your steps were loud as you stomped out of the corner you had been in, looking for whoever it had been. But there was nothing. Nobody was near. This floor was empty except for you. Were you finally insane enough to hallucinate? You groaned in sync with your stomach as you turned back around, walking to your cart. A delicious smell- of chocolate and butter invaded your nose. You cursed whoever had entered the library with food that smelt so good, until you spotted the box sitting on your cart. That hadn’t been there. You approach your cart, eyeing the box. It was a white paperish box. You looked around again, scanning if anyone had left it here on accident but no one was near.

Curiosity got the best of you and you slowly opened the box. In it was a collection of pastries. Chocolate croissants, cookies, cupcakes, fudge- the whole bakery practically! Your stomach growled in desire. You snapped the box shut- this wasn’t yours. Right? Someone probably accidentally left it. But one bite couldn’t hurt? No! You shouldn’t. That box was clearly worth around a 100 gold coins, it would be wrong to indulge in its wonderful contents.

Fuck it. They shouldn’t of left it on your cart. You made quick work of opening the box and grabbing the most appetizing pastry there and shoving it down your throat. The flavors melted in your mouth, earning a moan of appreciation from you.

Cauldron bless whoever was dumb enough to leave this box near you.

———————————————

Azriel sat in his room at the house of wind, in the floor. His hands clutched at his face as he mentally cursed himself for tripping.

He had tripped. The first time in his entire 500 years of being alive, he stumbled trying to get away from your cart. He could feel his face burning red as he rushed out of the library, Clotho with a knowing smirk as she observed him. Clotho had been granting him permission to enter the library on the excuse of wanting to get into reading more. And they both knew it was complete bullshit. But Clotho didn’t care, knowing he stayed away from all the other priestesses- except you.

He had been watching you for a while now, realizing you had seemed to be getting worse. You had been coming in later and later every morning, forgetting meals every now and then. It was nerve wracking to him, he just wanted you better. And it seemed the library wasn’t helping you. He’d give it some time before he went to Rhys and asked if there was something else they could do for you. He just wanted you to be alright. He didn’t care if you would never fall in love as he did, as long as you were happy he could live peacefully.

Azriel hoped you would enjoy the pastries he had picked out for you. He hadn’t known what you would like best, so in a panic, he asked the manager to shove in a variety of their most popular pastries.

Azriel still couldn’t get over the fact he had tripped. His mind has been going haywire ever since he rescued you. All he could think was you, you, you and, you! We’re you alright? Did you get up this morning? Did you eat? At this point it became clear he couldn’t even focus on the simplest of tasks like staying hidden.

You had him in a chokehold. He was wrapped effortlessly around your finger, and you didn’t even know it.

I hope you enjoyed! Lmk if you want part two. 💕

#Azriel X reader #azriel x reader angst #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel acotar #Imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar 5 #acosf #acotar #x reader

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