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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1

The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.

Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.

The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home).

Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?

Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep).

He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that.

Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?

Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.

He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite.

Then, one day, he meets a girl.

Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.

He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back.

“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket.

“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.

“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”

She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle.

He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed.

He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth.

“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle.

“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him.

“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”

Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.

He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor.

When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue.

Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later.

In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes.

A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind.

He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself.

Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?

He looks pointedly away.

It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?

Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave.

“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”

“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.

“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”

“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”

The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder.

When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”

It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction.

Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that.

“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”

#99% chance im gonna edit this to fuck before i post it on ao3 because im trying to properly balance the pov switch #also its not done yet #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader

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ozzgin · 5 months

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Girl I love Daitou but I'm ngl I need more of Yazuya😭 if you can, can you write headcanons about him please? I'd appreciate it thank you <3

I was wondering if he’d end up mentioned at some point haha. Most definitely I can. I might just turn this into HCs for both of them, since the story parts so far didn’t have much romance.

Yandere!Yakuza x Reader Headcanons

Ultimate dating guide and palate cleanser featuring the gangster boys (Kazuya and Daitou). For those that have been left hanging for proper romance.

Main story: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Tags: @swagbucksjester @lucienbarkbark @moonieper @nu-vino @vee-love @tamaki-simp @pinkazelma

Kazuya

Kazuya was raised in a brothel, surrounded by women, so he is much more knowledgeable than the average man when it comes to feminine matters. Similar to someone who grew up having sisters, you can talk to him about anything and everything and not only will he be empathetic towards your problems, but he might offer tips and tricks you didn’t even know about. Not too shocking when he’s already heard multiple variations of whatever is bothering you.

The downside to his upbringing is that intercourse has always felt terribly transactional to him. He has a hard time associating it with intimate relationships. He will flirt a lot with you, but despite all the sexual innuendos, he won’t actually do anything until later in the relationship. He struggles with the irrational worry that sex will somehow taint the quality of your bond, making it feel cheap. Dating you has helped him realize that such things can be done out of love as well.

He is extremely affectionate and well mannered when dealing with you. Which may sometimes cause you to forget there’s a reason him and Daitou are good friends. While he isn’t as ill-tempered as his younger self, it doesn’t take much to anger him still. It’s a rare occurrence for you to witness it, but when he has it out for someone, he nearly matches Daitou in ruthlessness. He's very prideful and protective and will not hesitate to crush whoever challenges him or messes with you.

If you have a group of girlfriends, you can confidently bring him with you with the only risk being that he’ll steal your spotlight. He can charismatically slide his way into any kind of conversation and you can hardly believe that this is the same man cracking gross jokes over his latest murder to his fellow criminal buddies. You might consider him a social chameleon, having no trouble adapting to any environment.

Smokes like a chimney and you have to slap the cigarette out of his hand sometimes because he’ll just light one up anywhere (including your bedroom).

Now this one is for the girlies that are into it: God forbid you accidentally call him Daddy because he’ll ride that high until the end of time. He loves the idea and will tease about it with every opportunity. “Terrible weather today. Should Daddy drive you to work instead?”, or “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” for when you’re out in public.

Daitou

One neat detail about being with Daitou is that you get to see a lot of things you took for granted in a new light. Whatever you assumed was a common experience for everyone, like having a picnic or going to the amusement park, is utterly foreign to him. He was raised by the Yakuza and barely interacted with anyone before meeting Kazuya; civilian past times were never presented to him. So you get to witness his shocked and delighted expression as he tries all these things with you.

Thankfully you don’t have to worry about teaching him the…intimate aspects of a relationship. Kazuya has that covered. And Daitou seems to be a rather fast learner, because he’s incredibly gentle and careful with you. Part of it is due to his own fear of messing it up. He’s only ever been good at breaking and killing people. Despite that, he loves you so much. He has to be the best boyfriend for your sake. Surely these hands of his can do more than just damage.

He might actually be a little too eager to learn the ropes. More than once you’ve walked in on him reading a graphic manga and nearly choked, mumbling an apology for interrupting his…activity. He’ll look at you with a confused expression, completely unbothered and wondering why you’re so embarrassed. He was flipping through the pages for ideas, given he’s never had any kind of experience himself. Ah. That explains the random kinky gestures he’s started doing without shame or doubt. You’ll have to do some tweaking in the near future.

This may come as a surprise, but Daitou is exceptionally good at household chores like cleaning and cooking. Registering with the Yakuza involves a mandatory apprenticeship of several years where you do menial tasks for your higher ups. Additionally, the time he served in jail has left him with a lot of discipline and organization. Somewhere between adorable and comical is how you’d describe the sight of him kneeling on the floor and carefully folding the kitchen towels while waiting for the stew to simmer.

Daitou isn’t exactly what you’d traditionally call jealous. His only frame of reference is Boss, thus he will treat you with the same kind of loyalty and dedication. You wouldn’t expect a mere nobody to walk up to the Head of the Family, so anyone approaching you will, similarly, be violently kept away until their intentions are clear. You are his most prized possession, after all. He’d do anything for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #yandere original character #yandere oc #male yandere x reader

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pyro-chaos · 6 months

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Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…

Summary: Prologue. How it all started.

Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.

Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,

And they were roommates…

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read

-———-———

Mike knows you, but not well.

You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.

Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.

You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.

You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.

You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.

“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”

Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.

You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.

When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.

Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.

So that’s how you can afford a place like this.

Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.

Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.

You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.

You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.

Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.

You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.

He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”

He remembers how you made him chuckle.

The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.

You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.

He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.

But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.

A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.

The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?

Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.

He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.

The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.

You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.

Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.

You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.

His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.

He has fun.

He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.

A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.

Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.

Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.

You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.

Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?

You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.

He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.

Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.

Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.

He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.

So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”

You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”

Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.

“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.

“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.

Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.

He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.

He doesn’t know what to do.

So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.

Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.

Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.

“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.

“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”

“Does she have medicine?”

“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”

“Does she have chicken soup?”

Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.

“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”

His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.

That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.

Tomorrow comes too soon.

Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.

You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.

At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.

He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.

In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.

You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.

Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.

"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"

That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"

You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"

Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"

You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.

You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.

It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.

Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.

Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.

Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.

A few weeks go by.

You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.

“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.

Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”

It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.

You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.

You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”

The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.

“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”

He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.

“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”

He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.

You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”

He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.

Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.

“You wanna move in with me?!”

Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.

He has fun.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt imagine

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rrickgrrimes8 · 1 year

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Your Bear Part II

summary: you are found (part I)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader

warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))

not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!

also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :)

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

word count: 2.3k

22 Years Ago...

The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.

You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.

“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.

But which way had you come from?

You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.

He twitched.

Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”

He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.

You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.

You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.

You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”

The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.

But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.

A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.

“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”

You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.

You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.

You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.

You wished you remembered your dad.

Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).

In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.

They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.

But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated.

Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.

Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.

So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.

A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.

You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”

Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.

“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”

“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”

You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”

Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.

“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.

“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”

Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.

Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.

Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.

“Baby,” She cooed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”

Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion?

Joel.

Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.

Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?

She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.

But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.

But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?

“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”

A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.

“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”

You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.

You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?

The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.

He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”

Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.

“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”

“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”

“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.

“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home.

You had a baby.

You were here, alive.

You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.

You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.

You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.

The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.

Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?

And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?

Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.

It was... yours.

Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.

You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.

Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.

Different but the same.

“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.

Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.

Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.

You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.

You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.

“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.

“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”

You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.”

@meli-blacky @zaweashtonslover @3zae-zae3 @bbciwp @cloudroomblog @white-wolf-buckaroo @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @myboyfriendisbigfoot @mell-bell @hummusxx @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @dilfsaremyfavourite @specialagentmonkey @slutforstark @lizlil @unsaiduglywords @ellaprime7 @aphrcdites @zynbsblog @imonmykneessir @mandowhatnow @tomorrowseverything @livelovemusic0996 @icarusthefoolish @b-bloop @leemirna @hexaecana @littleshadow17 @sgt-morgan @adorreeabbie @abbiesxox @leviackrmnss @eternallyvenus @hai-kbai @daydreamerblues @abbyrxx12-blog @montenegroisr @chxosunbound @shqwqrma @littlemissporter @wonwoosthetic @riri53 @softsakusas @prettysbliss @katiemars @kik51199 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @ellele19 @newavenger @19891213 @dgraysonss

#joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x daughter!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x niece!reader #ellie williams x platonic!reader #the last of us imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader

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meiieiri · 3 months

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𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: after the two brats from tokyo jujutsu tech took the star plasma vessel, toji momentarily sets his eyes on an uncompensated target, you.

warnings. dark explicit sex. voyeurism. dumbification. size kink. overstimulation. unprotected sex.

a/n: help i’m writing this in the lab while waiting for my reflux setup to finish its shit. also my lab coworker just passed by me and i deadass had to cross my legs FUCK why am i so filthy

toji watched from the cctv cameras in the apartment, licking his lips when he sees someone who didn’t quite show up on the briefing sheet shu gave him. he couldn’t help it and he was alone right now, his handler had to take a call. shit, school uniforms are always so short and skimpy these days. his veiny hand finds his stiff throbbing cock, his thumb pressing against the angry tip coating it with his thick cum as the woman on the laptop casually sweeps the mess of the apartment, your cute little butt on full display as you bend over to pick something up from the ground.

and that’s what led to this — shu wondering where toji took the fucking van and him splitting you open on his cock with his head thrown back as you clench around him. “w-wait—“

“i waited the entire day, baby,” toji smirks as you squirm underneath him, your expression pained, he hasn’t even bottomed out yet, and you ‘re already on the verge of tears, gasping and clawing at his back as he slowly inches in as you adjust to his girth before slowly pulling back out only to inch back in a little further again. he stops when he is barely halfway sheathed into your pussy, his hips stuttering when he feels just how tight you are, he’s had women before – loads of ‘em, he spends his hard-earned cash on typical prostitutes but none could ever compare to virgin-tight naive little school girls like you.

toji, the man assigned to hunt down your sister or so he haughtily said when he barged into your apartment this afternoon, is just so big, you could tell just from how he towered over you earlier, his hardened cock bulging through his grey sweatpants as he tells you to be quiet and just let him fondle your dripping cunt.

“w-won’t fit toji,” you whimpered helplessly, “y-you’re too big.”

“maybe if you stopped squeezing my damn cock it won’t hurt so much.”

toji wants to give in to the primal urge to just slam into you, impale you on his cock as he drills into your virgin-tight pussy, but he seems to be enjoying this little back and forth between you two — every time he sinks deeper into your soaking wet cunt, you instinctively try to move away for a bit, shying away from the discomfort, as if you didn’t want this when this rugged-looking mercenary politely asked if you could be his cocksleeve for today.

“c’mon, all you do is whine but you really just want me to stuff you full with my cum,” he tangles his fingers in your hair, angling his thrusts so that he could see the outline of his stiff cock on the skin of your lower midriff. he groans when your fingernails drag across his back when he picks up his already animalistic pace. “see that? hah, you’re practically sucking me in.”

you shake your head at his lewd words, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he practically uses your body, holding you by the hips, slamming you down on his thick cock, his eyes intently watching the way his cock sinfully disappears into your hole with every sharp thrust. “to-oji! agh – s-slow down-n! y-you’ll break me—!” you whined pathetically, your hands finding his shoulders as you try to get him to slow down.

he crashes his lips onto yours, your forehead resting under his chin, relishing in the way you beg for him to slow down which somehow makes his already hardened member twitch in excitement. he always loves it when he’s a bitch’s first real fuck, unlike those stupid teenage boys that take more pleasure in having a woman do all the work.

“g-good,” he rasps, grunting into your ear as he begins to feel the familiar feeling of your walls spasming around his cock. “fuck yea — take my cock, good girl–“ he frenziedly jostles into you, admiring the way you moaned, the way your breasts bounced with every sharp movement, the way your head lolled from side to side as you fought your impending orgasm.

you sob, your toes curling, your back arching off from the bed, utterly vulnerable to your release. “not inside, p-please, n-not inside ngh— f-fuck, toji! ‘m there, ‘m cumming!”

toji tuts at your plea. “s-stupid girl,” he groans at your spasming body, his heavy balls tightening as he feels the first waves of his release. “agh,” he follows soon after you, groaning as thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, forever reminding you of the sickening fact that you just fucked your little sister’s assassin. toji languidly thrusts two more times, sloppily wiping your tears away, finally slowing down just as you begged, pushing his cum deeper into you, as he grunts into the crook of your neck, his cock twitching as it unloads the last of his release.

“y-you came inside,” you whimpered as toji rests on your dainty frame, still not pulling out.

the older man scoffs, kissing your collarbone. “shh, just take a pill later,” he hushes you and you don’t know why but he reminds you of the most charming of demons — wait but that’s because he is. nothing could be heard in the room other than your and Toji’s breathless pants. “but don’t think this changes anything.” he says after a while and you look up at him sleepily. “i still have to kill your sister.”

“but toji—“ your bottom lip quivers and you shiver when he plants a cold kiss between your brows, his scarred lip curling up into a sickening smile.

“—don’t worry, i’ll make it quick, as quick as i made you cum, that is.”

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bluebeary-jay · 4 months

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Hold me close and hold me fast

Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!

Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️

Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.

But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.

“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”

He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.

He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.

“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”

Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.

“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”

“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.

“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”

“Get lost, Tommy.”

Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”

“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”

That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.

“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”

“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”

“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”

“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”

He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.

Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.

Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.

No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…

He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.

He did. In theory.

So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.

But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.

Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.

“You’re quiet.”

Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.

“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”

“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”

“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Listen here, you little tease…”

A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.

But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.

An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.

Not that he minded.

There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.

Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.

“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”

There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.

You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”

“Joel…”

The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.

“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”

“Joel.”

No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.

“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”

Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.

“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”

“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it… it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”

“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”

“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”

“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”

“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”

“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”

“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”

He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.

But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.

“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”

“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”

Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”

“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”

Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.

It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.

“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”

“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.

You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.

“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.

“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”

You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.

So, so loving.

Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.

There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.

#space sisters secret santa 2023 #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Nerves talking - Neteyam x Crybaby!Reader

summary: after spending months teaching his little sister's friend how to hunt, neteyam is surprised by the lack of her progress. later on, he discovers then that she is just too nervous to be around him because of her not-so-small crush

wc: 3.1k

contains: miscommunication trope, reader as a sensitive mess, kiri being mvp

masterlist

incredible art by @ArtKokhan on twitter

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“Try again,” Neteyam ordered, as he watched you adjust your grip on the bow.

You gulped, trying to shove the growing frustration back into your stomach. The more you missed the target, the more embarrassed you felt to be working under Neteyam’s watchful eye. Especially because you hadn’t hit it even once since the lesson had started.

And it wasn’t like Neteyam was a strict teacher or would ever get angry with you for failing. On the contrary, his approach was gentle, patient. Even when his father first ordered him to teach his sister how to hunt, and you were pulled along into it by Kiri, Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the extra student. Though, somewhere along the way, Kiri grew tired of archery and started missing the lessons, leaving you alone with Neteyam more frequently than your poor heart could ever handle.

You had the biggest crush on the man, always so jittery and nervous to be in his presence that you could hardly concentrate at all. Every time Neteyam would correct your stance, or help you with the bow, all your blood rushed to your ears, skin feeling tingly and hot even by the faintest of his touches. And he genuinely didn’t even suspect it; always being his lovely, charming self, throwing jokes and compliments your way, as if you weren’t one of his worst students. What was more ironic that you were actually a decent archer when practicing in your own company.

As you aimed and released the arrow, it sailed towards the painted tree with a loud swoosh and hit the outer ring. You let out a disappointed sigh, shoulders hunching immediately in discomfort, but it didn’t seem to discourage Neteyam. Instead, he stepped close to you, and guided your weak stance with a gentle touch.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he advised in a low voice, and you knew for sure that he could feel the goosebumps covering your skin.

As he didn’t rush to step away, his warm breath on your neck, and his hand resting lightly on your back, you became even more flustered. Oh, this was going to suck, you thought. And just like you expected, Neteyam’s proximity to you made matters worse; this time the arrow didn’t even graze the tree, but flew downwards and dug itself into the ground. Neteyam chuckled softly.

“Well, we’re getting somewhere,” he flicked the tip of your nose, “But next time try to aim for the target.”

“Very funny,” you mumbled, shying away from his playful gesture, “I don’t think I can ever hit it.”

“Hey, what did I say about the negative-talk?”

You watched as he took out his own bow and aimed at a fruit that was hanging precariously from a far tree branch. He took a breath and released the arrow, hitting its mark perfectly.

“Bad thoughts hinder the growth,” you answered simultaneously with the thud of the fruit hitting the ground

“Good girl.”

Neteyam went to retrieve the fruit, his back turned, and in that moment you could have sworn that Eywa was looking out for you and saving you from being caught in your deepest shade of blue.

“I think that’s enough for today,” he turned around with a smile, throwing you the fruit. You managed to catch it, “Have some, you need to eat.”

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“Hey, did Neteyam teach you that?” Kiri pointed at the arrow that landed close to the bullseye, its tail springing up and down from the force of the release.

You let out a bitter chuckle, unsure of how to respond to Kiri's question. It was true that you often went to train by yourself to work on your composure around Neteyam, meticulously recalling every piece of advice he had given you. But the moment you were around him, it seemed like all of that knowledge seemed to evaporate into thin air.

“To be quite honest, I had no hopes for you,” Kiri teased.

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes at her, “I can actually kick your ass now.”

“Is that so? Let’s see it then,” she challenged, gesturing towards the target.

You grinned with a newfound confidence, taking out another arrow. You guessed that it was definitely the effect of Neteyam and his amber eyes because you didn’t feel nearly as nervous when you were being watched by Kiri. Instead, there was a surge of sureness when you looked at the arrows you shot before, clustered around the closest circle to the middle. You adjusted your stance like a pro, and Kiri couldn’t deny it, she was actually impressed with the way you presented yourself.

It didn’t take you long to focus and shoot, the arrow landing exactly in the bullseye with a swift release. Kiri clapped her hands, releasing a loud excited squeak, and pulled you into a hug.

“You’re actually a pro!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist the sweet satisfaction of your accomplishment. You usually had to reserve it for yourself but sharing it with Kiri felt more special.

But as you let your chin rest on her shoulder, and she went on about how impressed she was, you spotted a figure not too far away. Your eyes widened at the realization that it was Neteyam, and you rapidly pulled away from Kiri in the shame of being watched by him. With heavy steps, Neteyam approached you, forcing you to lower your gaze to the ground. What if he draws a connection between his teaching and you failing miserably, and cracks your little secret about the not-so-little crush?

“Y/N, did you shoot all of these?” he asked, the slight anger in his voice catching both you and Kiri off guard.

She looked in between you confused, never having seen her brother to be so tense around you. Clearly, the possibility of Neteyam getting irritated with you hadn’t even crossed either of your minds.

“She did, even the bullseye,” Kiri shrugged, “Why are you so grumpy about it?”

"So all this time you were pretending to be bad at it, even though you knew how to shoot?" Neteyam ignored her, his tone more accusatory.

“Hey, back off,” Kiri scrunched up her nose in irritation, gently shoving Neteyam to make him move. He took a few involuntary steps back, but his expression remained cold and frustrated.

“No, I wasn’t pretending, I really didn’t know how to…” you trailed off, staring at the ground. The lump growing in your throat at the accusation was making you too emotional to remain calm. You had never heard Neteyam speak to you that way before, and you were afraid that you might burst into tears if you had to look at him.

“We have been having lessons for months, Y/N. You think this was a funny prank to pull? Do you have any idea how much time I wasted, and for what?” he let out a disappointed sigh, his hands falling to his sides.

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to meet Neteyam's gaze. You couldn't tell him the real reason, at least not like this, not here. His anger was morphing into disappointment, which was confusing, because he was usually so patient with you. But Neteyam hated being lied to, and he didn't want to feel like a fool for your own entertainment. He wondered if you had been going around with other hunters, showing off your skills while he put all his time and energy into teaching you something you already knew.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say with a sniff, tears already welling in your eyes, “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

Neteyam only shook his head in response, his expression softening slightly as he caught the glistening of the tears you were barely holding back. He exhaled loudly through his nose and stormed off, and the second he was gone, the tears broke like a rainstorm.

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If you had thought that being around charming Neteyam was difficult, you had clearly underestimated facing angry Neteyam. The cold shoulder he kept giving you was agonizing, eating you from the inside slowly and painfully. And being the way that you were, you could cry on the spot every time he ignored you in public.

Kiri was convinced that the only solution to your reconciliation would be telling him the truth. Neteyam had been burned by being taken advantage of before; girls pretending to be incompetent at things they were actually skilled at to gain his attention, and completely disregarding his time. Especially with the intensity of his Olo’eyktan training, Neteyam barely had time to breathe, let alone use it on someone who didn’t need his help.

And what you didn’t know was that it especially hurt Neteyam that it was you. Someone he had grown to care for and looked forward to meeting up with. A chore that didn’t feel like one. If he had a choice, he would spend all day watching over you, guiding you through every misstep without a care. Because being around you allowed him to drop down his guard and be himself, something he struggled with as the future Olo’eyktan burdened with heavy responsibilities. There was no pressure to perform.

Your shy nature, your sensitivity, was what encouraged him to be more open, light-hearted. You were so comforting to him, Neteyam felt like he could crack jokes and even flirt sometimes, without feeling guilty for it. Oh, he thought he was such a fool for believing anyone could ever see him for the way he was.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You gripped the handle of the basket so tightly, your knuckles had turned white with the effort. Holding it close to your chest, it was much heavier than you remembered, filled to the brim with fruits picked out from the tallest trees grazed by the sunlight, and aromatic herbs woven into bouquets. It was naive to think it could be enough to get Neteyam’s forgiveness but you still felt bad. Very bad.

As you approached the corner of their house, he suddenly sprang out in front of you, causing you to stumble and almost drop the basket. You were startled, but Neteyam seemed unimpressed to see you there.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade.

“I just wanted to give you this and apologize again,” you mumbled, offering him the basket.

But as Neteyam stared at your outreached hands with pursed lips, he made no effort to accept it. He stepped back with a shake of his head, and you could feel your heart sink.

“I don’t want it.”

"I didn't mean to offend you - ," you began to explain yourself, trying to remain calm but your vision was already blurring from tears.

“You had done enough already,” he scoffed and walked past you, leaving you standing there.

You let the basket hang in your hands, so heavy, you were barely holding it. Tears streamed down your cheeks in big drops, and despite your mind telling you to go back home, it was like your feet were glued to the ground.

“Y/N?” Kiri’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You hurried to wipe away the evidence of your humiliation but Kiri was quick to draw the connection between the look on your face and the basket filled with gifts. Without hesitation, she pulled you into their home and sat you down on the ground.

“Don’t cry, Y/N, it wasn’t your fault,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “It was all a big misunderstanding, I’m sure Neteyam will come around.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to him,” emotions were overflowing within you, and between your sniffling, Kiri had to concentrate to make out your words, “I just like him so much, he makes me shaky...”

“Well, you have to tell him that he makes you nervous,” Kiri urged with a softened gaze, “Neteyam will be flattered.”

“No, he will think I am pathetic,” you shook your head.

“He won’t,” she disagreed, "I mean, you didn't even want him to teach you in the first place. I forced you into the lessons and left you alone. Honestly, it was my fault."

“It wasn’t,” you sniffled again, “I shouldn’t have wasted his time like that. He taught me so much but I just can’t concentrate around him… I can’t even talk to him sometimes, let alone shoot well.”

A small smile stretched Kiri’s lips, the sight of her friend confessing to her such obvious feelings was amusing. Like everybody else, Kiri had known well that you were soft, taking the smallest things to your heart. And though the solution seemed too clear to her, she didn't want to interfere in something that should be left between you and Neteyam. Instead, she was prominent in only nudging either of you in the right direction. She threw a meaningful look at the entrance where she had sensed Neteyam’s lingering for some time now.

When he saw you tear up at the refusal of the gift and stormed off, Neteyam’s heart couldn’t bear it to know it was already the second time that he made you cry. And no matter how disappointed he was with you, he just simply wasn’t going to tolerate the thought of you being so upset over him. The regret pushed him to chase after you, to apologize and hope that the words he’d pour out would be enough to calm you down. And it was then when he overheard you crying to his sister, the confession stopping him in his tracks.

His heartbeat was so loud, it filled out his ears and vibrated through his throat. Neteyam came to a stunning realization that the feelings he had buried deep within himself were reciprocated. That the reason why he was never frustrated with your slowness was finally justified; all this time, he secretly hoped you would need his guidance for as long as possible, just so he could spend more time with you. The sight of your delicate tear-stained face, glistening eyes adorned with long lashes clumped together, made him want to hold you and never let go. Yet, knowing that he had such an effect on you made Neteyam feel like the happiest man on Pandora.

“I think it’s my cue to leave,” Kiri stood up, glancing at her brother.

You frowned at her sudden movement and followed her gaze to the entrance. Neteyam stepped in nervously, his eyes locking with yours. Mixed emotions washed over him like a bucket of cold water, drenching him to the bone. You liked him. And he hurt you for it. Embarrassed and flustered, you clung to Kiri’s hand, silently pleading for her to stay, not wanting to be left alone with him.

“Can we talk?” Neteyam asked quietly.

He caught your attention just enough to allow Kiri to slip away. She nudged him playfully upon her exit and there you were... Has he heard your confession? The look on his face was so sour, almost like he was readying himself to turn you down.

“Y/N, first, I must apologize for being this cold with you,” his voice was soft, startling you slightly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, never expecting it. Was Neteyam apologizing? He hesitated before lowering himself to the ground in front of you. His eyes observed the basket of gifts for a moment, as he was pondering over his next words.

“And I also heard what you said to Kiri about me. And I...I didn't know you felt that way."

Your heart beated trepidly at his words, humiliation flooding your veins immediately. You had never intended for him to find out, especially not like this.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, this must be worse than if I had pulled a prank on you instead,” your voice was so sincere with apology, it mortified him.

“No, no, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong,” he shook his head so desperately, it must have strained his neck, "And I don't want you to feel like you have to impress me or anything. I just want us to be... comfortable with each other. I guess, just didn’t think you liked me so much, I threw you off your game,” he chuckled weakly.

“This is so embarrassing,” you covered your face with your palms, but Neteyam was quick to gently peel them away. He lifted your chin with his fingers, urging you to look at him.

“No, I think it’s cute… you’re very cute.”

“W-what?”

You stammered, the words you could only wish to hear in your dreams were spilling out of his mouth. How could he have been that blind towards your affections? You were always carefree and bubbly with others, but so shy with him. And Neteyam adored your shyness, he just couldn’t believe he had never made a connection before.

He beamed at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your timid nature, delicate features, the way you blushed under his gaze. Neteyam leaned closer, the proximity sending shivers down your spine.

“I like you too,” he whispered.

You blinked in shock, your gaze darted between his captivating eyes and his plump lips. Unable to hold back any longer, Neteyam leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He kissed you, and it was as if the world around you had ceased to exist. Your mind went blank as his soft lips moved in sync with yours, and his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer in a gentle, swift move. Everything he did was perfect. He was perfect.

Neteyam pulled away for breath with a toothy grin, leaving you completely wordless. You tried to calm your own breathing, but the feeling of the kiss was still too fresh on your lips, blushing profusely as he leaned back.

He observed the basket once more before reaching out to pluck a fruit from it. As he brought it to his lips and took a bite, you couldn't help stealing glances at him, desperately appreciating the way he savored it.

"Thank you," he said, looking up at you, "This is delicious."

And with no further warning, he pressed his lips against yours once more, his gratefulness manifesting in that sweet gesture. Your cheeks flamed as you savored the taste of fruit on his lips. When you parted, Neteyam rested his forehead on yours, a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t think I can keep up with our lessons after this,” you joked, trying to ease the tension between you.

“Mhm, maybe we should just try out a new reward system instead,” he teased back. Your laughter bubbled up at his words, and Neteyam thought it was going to become his favorite sound in the world.

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added):

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @omnifanfic-copycat @crazyforteyam @sakura-onesan

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huramuna · 3 months

Text

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other.

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard.

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days.

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design.

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased.

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red.

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly.

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits.

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly.

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. “C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?”

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.”

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?”

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets.

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here.

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.”

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.”

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?”

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–”

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?”

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet!

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets.

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions.

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.”

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–”

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.”

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…”

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house.

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red.

—

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot.

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you.

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.”

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,”

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little—

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing?

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you.

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you?

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him?

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working.

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Oh. You’re still here.”

“Yes?”

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.”

“The… what?”

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.”

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?”

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?”

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you.

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins.

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?”

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?”

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?”

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.”

“... what.”

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven’t noticed?”

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours.

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.”

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves.

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.”

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?”

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.”

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?”

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh.

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone.

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil.

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat.

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into.

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded.

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off.

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt.

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.”

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was.

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?”

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.”

“How about just in my room? Please?”

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

#aemondtarqaryenssleepover #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fic #downpour #modern aegon ii #modern aegon ii x reader

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strxngewitch02 · 9 months

Text

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

PAIRING : JIM X FEM!READER ( DELINQUENT SEASON )

song : illicit affairs by taylor swift.

WORD COUNT : 8.3K

SUMMARY : You were friends with Jim but slowly you began to have a crush on him which became more than you could bear as he was already married but that didn’t stop the both of you.

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+) ! ANGST, JIM BEING SOFT, FINGERING, P IN V, NO PROTECTION, PRAISE KINK, AFFAIR, CURSING.

IT’S HONESTLY NOT THAT BAD. ( STILL HOT THO )

♱

You messed up.

That’s it. You messed up.

You allowed yourself to be carried away and swept up within the moment that wasn’t even supposed to happen. if it weren’t for the way he was gazing at you with his piercing yet mesmerizing pale blue hues or maybe the way he grazed you with his finger tips that sent small sparks throughout your body then maybe just maybe you wouldn’t have ended up bare in the sheets with the man who was already married..

Married to another woman..

The worst part out of all of this, is that you knew he was married. The fact that you knew and you allowed it to happen. You have every right to feel revolted with yourself right now. If the universe or god or any great entity that controlled this vast universe it definitely knows how much you loathe yourself right now. You needed to slow down and think about how this even happened.

You lived in a Suburban neighborhood– in Dublin, east coast of Ireland. A single mother with a beautiful nine year old daughter named Mary, a journalist for your own advice column and a part time Pilates trainer at a studio that your sister owned. As far as you knew, your life was normal. Between spending time with your daughter and your jobs, your schedule flowed perfectly together. You would be able to drop Mary off in the morning for school, teach class later on in the morning and you would be able to go home during the day to work on your advice column before picking Mary up from school, then the cycle repeats unless otherwise.

You’ve always been on your own. Having a daughter and two jobs, your love life was a punchline of a lame joke. In case you are wondering about Mary’s father, that’s a whole other story of its own, let’s just say he was completely out of the picture.

You would be lying if you told someone that it didn’t feel lonely sometimes. It was lonely, it was incredibly lonely; of course you’ve made multiple attempts to at least go out on a few dates and have a nightstand if you were lucky enough but most of the time those don’t even work out.

And It’s not because you weren’t attractive, no it was quite the opposite. In fact, you were quite beautiful– which was ironic for you because when you were younger your father called you the ugly duckling between you and your sister but then you prospered into a beautiful swan as you grew older. Like any normal person you still have your insecurities (no thanks to dad) yet overall you felt secure with yourself.

Clearly, your beauty wasn't the reason why your love life was shriveling away like a dried up raisin. It was the fact that you were picky, and you knew your heart wouldn’t always be completely in it. You weren’t that kind of person to simply have one night stands– but you admire those who do without forming any kind of connection that wasn’t only based on physical attraction.

You’ve tried and even though it felt good to have that void in your chest to be filled in that moment, the lingering feeling of desolation and melancholy always crawls its way back in. It wasn’t good for your mental health and it wasn’t good for your daughter. So you were only left with your jobs and your delusions of a love life to suddenly appear. But you knew deep down that Mary deserved a good father figure while she’s still young and you shouldn’t put so much hope into your fantasies.

Mary was a sweet girl, too sweet for her own good– she has a beautiful mix of your features and her father’s. The features that she shared from her father never bothered you either as you knew it wasn’t her fault that she was placed here on this earth because you didn’t wrap it until you tapped it. Of course, you and Mary’s relationship wasn’t always perfect but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You love her regardless– with all of your heart. Mary was the ray of sunshine you had in your life and you were more than happy to be her mother.

Knowing how kindhearted and smart your daughter was, she had many friends in her school. Even during teacher and parent conferences you’ve always been told many times how she loved helping the other kids, and the only times she would get in trouble was due to how talkative she was and you didn’t think it was a problem either.

And that’s how you met him.

It was a gray and cloudy weekday, as you got off the phone with Mary’s teacher claiming that it was after school and Mary was waiting for you. Accidently getting caught up with your advice catalog time went by over your head without even realizing and now your child is sitting in the school alone and you knew she was going to be a little..not little definitely upset with you.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Curses and all other kinds of profanities spilled from your lips as you frantically slipped on your mini cotton black trench coat. Your foot practically kicked down your front door before running like a trackstar to your car. Fortunately you didn’t live too far from the school and, without getting caught speeding past red lights, you managed to arrive at school where your daughter was currently waiting at.

Your hasty footsteps echoed throughout the hallways of the school as you moved through with only one destination in mind, which was your child’s classroom. Once you were close to the classroom where Mary was, you halted in your footsteps as you watched Mary leave the classroom with two other kids, a boy and a girl and then a man. A man that you knew well wasn't Mary’s teacher so you assumed that it must be the other children’s father.

Furrowing your slightly together you couldn’t help but to feel a little confused but relieved that at least you weren’t the only parent that wasn’t perfect. But it also did make you feel a bit skeptical as it is why a random man would be with kids and your only daughter.

“Mary!” You called out to her, your tone airy yet smooth which caught the attention of your daughter and the man. Immediately, your mind stopped racing and your heart leaped from your chest as his entrancing stunning ocean eyes met yours. It was as if his eyes had some deep hidden meaning behind them, it almost made you feel a little intimidated– how tired yet pierce his eyes were. His figure was lean but the broadness of his chest also stood out, along with his dark but slightly graying tresses, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, his plump yet light pink lips, and smooth yet freckled fair skin…

Pretty.. You thought.

But as quickly as you fell in a captivated daze you quickly pulled yourself out of it the same way, you knew well that you were attracted to this man but considering how he was here and with kids– you can assume he is married or hope he wasn’t a random stranger.

“Mom!” You hear Mary call out happily as she walks towards you. A wholehearted smile took over your lips as you lovingly gazed down at her, allowing your hand to gently caress her back pulling her to your side. Thank god that she wasn’t upset with you. “I am so sorry, babygirl, I lost track of time.” You said softly as you felt Mary raise her head up to look at you. “It’s okay, I was with them.” she responded looking over at the alluring man and his kids who were in fact walking in your direction.

With each step he took you could feel your heart pound in your chest as he was now approaching you, his hands stuffed in his dark blue puffy jacket along with his kids who followed behind him and soon had their own conversation with Mary.

The man only gave you an awkward half smile as his gaze never left your form, you can tell that he was definitely on the reserved side. “Hi, you’re their father?” You asked giving him a little smile in return, then you couldn’t help but to mentally slap yourself a little bit with the question as you noticed in fact the boy and girl that were talking to Mary did in fact look like him. You watched as the man blinked in confusion for a moment, being thrown off by your question– you could feel the conversation instantly dying before it even started.

A dry airy chuckle left your lips as you felt yourself cringe, “I-I’m sorry, stupid question– I was just..” before you could finish your sentence you heard a deep chuckle coming from him stopping you from rambling. “No, No it’s fine.” He says softly, shaking his head for a second with the same ghostly smile. “I get it, I would wonder the same thing if a random man would be standing with my kids too, it would be really weird..” he paused for a moment before continuing, “I-uh, I was also late picking up my kids so yeah..” He briefly elaborated as you felt yourself relax as another gentle relieved chuckle left your lips, watching him. His voice was smooth and sonorous, it sent unwavering shivers throughout your body. Just by looking at him– he had a lingering forlorn yet cryptic aura surrounding him and it was reeling you in like a moth to a light. You hoped you didn’t look too obvious.

“I totally get you, I was just caught up with work that I didn’t realize that time flew by, you know?” You smiled warmly and for a moment you thought you saw him falter.

“I’m Y/N.”

You watched as his little timid faint grin formed into a genuine smile. It was as if air was caught in your throat, your heart fluttered at the sight of his smile. You felt proud of yourself that you managed to make him smile.

“Jim..Nice to meet you.” He introduced himself politely as he extended his hand towards you which you did your best not to look eager to grab and shook his hand in a little handshake. You immediately caught the golden band on his finger indicating he was indeed vowed to someone else. You couldn’t help but not be able to suppress the disappointment that flooded through your body. He had a wife and kids.The forced mentality of ‘it is what it is’ came into mind. And the attraction you had for Jim will most likely be temporary.

Unfortunately, the kids manage to break the tension between you, asking if they can walk together. You and Jim didn’t mind as you all walked out of the school together. You managed to hold a longer conversation with him, taking the opportunity to get to know him better.

Jim was definitely a man with a few words, and was more listening to you than you listening to him but he still present with you in the conversation. You both share a mutual affection for your kids, and you both worked at home– it was nice to share similarities with someone, to you it always made you feel like you were understood better, and you hoped he felt the same way. Although it's not uncommon to understand another parent- but between you and Jim you both just want to get through the day.

Luckily, It wasn’t just you that genuinely enjoyed his company as he offered to exchange numbers before parting ways. As this began to possibly be the start of a beautiful friendship for you.

You knew you were going to see him again soon, maybe for the rest of the following week. And you were right, when you picked up Mary on time for the rest of the week you would sometimes see Jim walk out with his kids. You two would exchange waves and polite smiles then carry on. Despite exchanging numbers neither of you made the first move to send a text first. You felt a little disappointed but you knew that maybe it was for the best and you shouldn’t look for some sort of connection that wasn’t there in the first place, let alone a text.

Jim has a wife. That is that — you two are also just acquaintances, and your kids are friends. That is all. Yet, that didn’t stop your thoughts always trailing back to him– and you began to feel a little angry with yourself for it. Were you truly so lonely to be thinking about a man you only had spoken once?

What is wrong with you?

Get over this crush already.

This would go on until the end of the week on a Friday, just as you and your daughter got home from school, a gentle ding emitted from your pocket. Stepping into the house, closing the door behind you, you took out your phone. You didn’t get to see who texted you as you heard Mary’s loud footsteps run off to the kitchen leaving her jacket on the floor along with her book bag..

“Mom, I am going to have a cookie!” she said loudly before you could respond you already heard the cabinet shut. Shaking your head you released an exasperated sigh, “Mary, please pick up after yourself! And don’t eat all of them!” You responded raising your voice a little bit while locking the door behind you.

Another ding went off on your phone once more adding waves to your annoyance. Who was trying to contact you? A gentle frown painted over your lips as your hand reached into the buttpocket of your jeans to grab your phone to see that you got a message from an unknown number.

Hey, It’s the random man from school.

Kidding, it’s me Jim.

You felt your heart stop beating in your chest for a split moment as you vacantly stared down at the gray text bubbles that were on your little phone screen. You felt many waves of emotions crash down on you– denial, shock, guilt, and then excitement. Gradually a ghostly smile was painted on your lips replacing the gentle frown that was present a few moments ago, just when you began to accept that nothing was going to happen.

It was funnily convenient.

You didn’t gloss over the fact that he remembered your conversation when you guys first spoke to each other as you felt your heart skip a beat once more.

Had he been thinking about you as well?

You can still be wrong that maybe he just wanted to ask you something about school or your kids and that would still be fine. This was nothing, harmless– this wouldn’t escalate to anything more. Just keep it short and simple.

After a few minutes of typing and deleting your message multiple times to think how you should respond due to your mixed emotions of anxiety and excitement— you finally responded to him.

Hi, Jim! Lol. How are you?

You had no idea that after sending back that one message, you guys would be texting for the rest of that day.

♱

It is strange how someone can go from being a stranger to a good friend to someone you ended up falling for. You knew it was a bad idea the minute you laid your eyes on him and somehow like a black hole Jim effortlessly sucked you in. Ever since the first text he had sent you, you guys began to talk everyday; through texts, and eventually calls. It only has been a few weeks since you guys first met.

You even discovered that he only lived a few blocks away from you which resulted in a lot of Mary having playdates with his daughter. This became a normal thing, almost every Friday Mary would have these playdates. The first time when he was at your house it was a bit awkward since you were used to only talking to him over text or calls but with a cup of coffee you both relaxed and talked how you guys normally do in the dining room while the girls would be hanging out in Mary’s room.

It also didn’t help how being around his calming presence made you feel so comfortable, made you feel like you could tell him anything and he would just listen to you.

You often wondered if his wife knew about your friendship with him, or if she even knew about you at all. She probably does since her daughter occasionally hangs out with Mary almost every Friday, you knew you shouldn’t even be thinking about those kinds of things.

Everything felt good, way too good. And with your luck you knew when things feel way too good, that means things were going to take a painful turn.

Sitting criss cross on your living room couch alone in the house on a Tuesday afternoon, you were on the phone with Jim. As usual with a dumb happy grin on your face you guys talked and it ended up with him assisting you with your advice column on your laptop.

“A twenty year old girl in college got heartbroken by her boyfriend she dated since childhood because he cheated on her and she wants to go back and talk to him but she knows it’s wrong. What should she do?” You asked as the grin never wavered from your lips.

“Maybe go to more parties and get wasted and she’ll find another guy by the end of the second semester?” You jokingly snickered as you leaned back against the couch, your muscles easing into the cushions. Hearing Jim’s light chuckle on the other line of the phone.

“God no. What kind of fucking advice is that?” Jim asked playfully, still chuckling softly, you could feel your heart flutter at the sound that came from him.

“Okay, Okay, fine– I am not going to say that. But she is only twenty and she has so many other things to worry about other than a boy. Like her possible career and her friends and her future! And she should try and focus on that instead.” You exclaimed.

“That is much better. Way better than the last answer.” Jim responded, causing you to laugh softly, shaking your head slightly as your gaze stared down at your laptop, your fingers gently pressing on the letters on your keyboard, typing up your answer.

“Alright done, give this a listen.”

“Shoot.”

You cleared your throat a little bit as you began to read. “You lost someone important to you, and how you feel is completely valid. But you have to feel your feelings out, and try to focus on what’s really important. Such as yourself, your career, and future– going back to him won’t change what happened. Remember that you have friends and family to support you. And that you’re not alone in this. All you can do is try to take care of yourself.”

Jim was silent, as you finished reading which caused you to fiddle in your seat a little.

“Thoughts?” You asked wondering what he was thinking.

“That was good, pretty good.” He responded nonchalantly, almost being blunt which caused you to worry a little bit, your grin faltering slightly.

“Is that all? Should I add more? It sounds like you don’t like it.” You asked reluctantly.

Jim was quick to encounter your statement. “No,no,no! I do. I really do like it. It’s really sweet of you, It’s lovely, you’re lovely.”

You could feel the blood rushing up into your cheeks, turning into a harsh crimson hue. Who knew a simple compliment could make you feel so smitten? Silence hovered over the two of you for a moment until Jim was the first one to break it.

“Y/N?” He called out to you softly pulling you out from your daze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go silent on you.” You chuckled nervously. It was just his last comment.

“No it’s fine..” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know what has come over me.” Jim said softly back to his timid tone. This only made your heart race once more as you sighed softly.

“I appreciate it, thank you for being my assistant.” You did your best to save this conversation from turning tense. And it felt like it didn’t make the slightest difference.

“I mean it, you know?”

You paused once more the burning sensation in your cheeks didn’t change. Now intently listening to him as you can hear him about to say more.

“You really are lovely, Y/N..I mean it.”

There it was…That tension again, the suffocating tension that made you feel like you were drowning. And within that moment, like a wave crashing and meeting the ocean shore, you knew that you were falling hard for him, wiping the grin that was on your lips away.

Then the golden band on his finger flashed in your mind.

No, you can’t do this.

“Jim, what do you mean by that?” You asked him hesitantly yet firmly as you removed your laptop from your grasp before grabbing your phone, taking it off of the speaker and pressing it against your ear.

“What do you mean by what I mean?” He asked, sounding a bit taken back by your sudden question. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I was just…I don’t know how to explain it but that felt like more than a compliment.” You stated as you paused once more, were you overthinking this? You were about to open your mouth to cut the silence but then Jim interrupted you.

“Because it was more than a compliment.”

In that moment, It was as if something took over your body and possessed you, this confession spilled from your lips like vomit.

“Jim, I think I am falling for you.” You breathed out.

Then a tense silence completely consumed the both of you.

Oh fuck, did I really say that!? You mentally wanted to slam your face against the table. Fuck, you had to fix this quick. No, there was no way of fixing this now, you fucking blew it.

“Jim, I'm sorry. You’re married and I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, I am an idiot, I am so so sorry.” You began to ramble, not letting Jim be able to interrupt you. “Y/N wait, wait-” but you weren’t listening as your thumb slammed on the red at the bottom of your screen ending the call.

This was a long awaited painful turn that you’ve brought on yourself. Now all that was left was you and your panicked and raging thoughts. You clearly took it too far, getting caught up in the moment that it left you feeling like an idiot.

♱

It was your day off today from the Pilates studio and you didn’t have to do much for your advice column. So for the rest of that morning you took the time to clean up the house. Mary was in school so it was just you alone at home– singing softly to yourself as you were finishing up with doing laundry. Neatly folding what was last of the laundry in your basket, feeling the warmth of the fresh cotton fabric between your fingers before placing it with the other piles of clothes on your bed.

It has been two days since your confession with Jim. You did what was best for you, and you began ignoring his texts and dodged his calls. This was morally wrong and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more.

“And you know damn well..For you, I would ruin myself, A million little times..”

You sang softly as the tender melody came to an end on your phone dying down, you would glance at your phone a few times that was sitting on your nightstand, in hopes you would catch your phone displaying Jim’s name across the screen but to your disappointment it didn’t, why would it? So you can ignore it more or have a war with yourself whether you should drop the silent treatment or not? No. At this point you would understand why he would give up.

A gentle sigh leaving your lips as your mind begins to aimlessly wander about your conflicted feelings. You want to believe that it would remain as a friendship but you knew damn well that slowly this entire time it turned more than a friendship to you. Feelings were completely one sided, he was married and he was only being kind to you because both of your daughters are friends. You were scared that harboring these feelings would become so heavy that eventually it’ll crush you and it did. You were playing with fire and you got burned.

Just as the next song on your phone began to play, a loud knock on your front door echoed throughout the house shaking you out of your thoughts. Feeling your brows knit together you walked out of your room heading towards the front door.

Who could that be?

You wondered as your hand gently grasped the doorknob pulling it open to reveal Jim gazing at you with a bit of desperate yet defeated expression with his phone in hand.

It was like you were faced with a jumpscare as you felt your eyes widen and without thinking you tried to close the door on Jim but he was too quick as he managed to slip his shoe between the door leaving it ajar. “Y-Y/N, please can we talk? Please just for a second.” He said in a deep raspy tone. His voice crack manages to burn itself into your mind.

You stood still for a moment before opening the door more widely for him to step into your house, now alone just between you and the married man you had fallen for. You took a few steps back away from him with your arms folded over your chest, your gaze not leaving his form. Once he was inside the house he closed the door behind him– “You didn’t think of picking up your phone when I called you? Or my texts?” He asked, sounding a bit tired as his piercing yet stunning ripples of ocean blue gaze bore into yours, spawning goosebumps on your skin.

“How could I after that? So I can embarrass myself some more?” You asked with sarcasm evidently dripping from your tone as you watched Jim roll his eyes a little at your remark. “I am serious, Y/N.” He said, sounding a little more soft as he took a step towards you.

“So am I, Jim. You’re my friend, I was stupid, I shouldn’t have said what I said, you’re married and–” You weren’t sure how much your heart could take at this moment. It was hammering so hard that it felt like it was building something, along with the backflips your stomach was doing it was becoming agonizing.

You could feel his warmth from where you were standing as you broke away from his gaze as you turned your head away from him but only for Jim to gingerly cup your cheek turning your face back to look at him immediately putting an end to your rambles. “Hang on a second, hang on a second Y/N..” Jim said his tone was still soft, as he looked down at you his lips curled slightly down forming a frown his eyebrows knitted slightly together causing a little wrinkles to form between them. His touch was so warm you did your best not to melt into him.

“This is so fucking mortifying Jim, you shouldn’t even be here.” You could feel your throat go dry as your eyes became misty, placing your hand over his shoulder weakly attempting to push him away but he stayed still in his spot. “Listen to me, please.” You kept your gaze down refusing to meet his gaze.

“You’re not an idiot for telling me how you felt that day alright? Don’t think that I haven’t thought of you the same way. I have. If I didn't, I wouldn’t have told you that a compliment was meant to be more.” Jim exclaimed quietly a gentle airy dry chuckle leaving his lips as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone. You only shook your head as you used your freehand to gently pull his hand away from your cheek and it only resulted in him intertwining your fingers together.

“You’re lying.You were just being polite.” You said your breathing became uneven, clenching your jaw slightly– you didn’t realize how you were shaking in his grasp. Jim only continued to keep you close and you couldn’t find yourself pulling away from him, your hand still in his.

This was happening, really happening.

“I-I, Why would I lie to you about that?” He asked in a genuine yearning tone. “Because you feel bad for me. I am a single mother alone here with no one to talk to of course you would.” You snapped suddenly feeling a little aggressive but Jim didn’t seem fazed by it.

“That isn’t true at all, Y/N. Not even close.” You can detect the hurt and how despondent he felt in his voice, the need to prove himself to you. You remained silent as you continued averting your gaze from his and he seemed to notice it as he called out to you once more.

“Look at me..”

You closed your eyes for a moment, keeping your chin faintly down completely avoiding his gaze, as you knew if you looked at him you would completely succumb to him.

“Y/N… Look at me.” He softly implored once more.

After a few moments, you sighed quietly and you finally complied, opening your eyes looking back up at him as he gazed down at you with a gentle expression. It was like he knew how fragile you felt in this moment. You watched at how his eyes flickered at your features to your eyes then back to your lips, causing your features to soften.

Both of you remained silent as he gently squeezed your hand before releasing your hand, attentively, he placed your palm against his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly against your palm, like his heart was trying to burst free from his chest cavity. “Feel that?” Jim breathed out as he gazed down at you, keeping your palm firmly against his chest. “My heart is beating out of my chest, Y/N.. Can you feel how fast it’s going?” He asked, a bit breathless with a faint smile.

You didn’t realize how close you two were as your faces were inches from each other, breath gently fanning against your lips–the tip of his nose gently grazing yours. “Yeah..” You only murmured now a little airy laugh slipped from your lips at how this felt like you were in a scene of a movie, but it wasn’t this was in fact real as your forehead lightly rested against his.

Jim wasn’t lying as you could literally feel how anxious he was in your palm. His heart beating against your hand, you knew you weren’t just feeling how nervous he was. You were feeling how much he cared about you.

How his heart was beating for you…

Feeling his dark tresses brush against your forehead, you released an inaudible shaky exhale. Your fingers curling up now grasping his shirt, his lips gently brushing against yours sending sparks throughout your being. This was all becoming too much, as it felt like Jim read your mind. “Fuck it..” He whispered as he closed the distance between you, eagerly capturing your lips with his as his fingers now rested on the side of your head keeping you still.

That’s right.. Fuck it.

You could feel your heated skin crawl by how powerful the emotion behind his kisses. His kisses fill you with nothing but thoughts of him, you didn’t hesitate to return his kisses matching his passion. He was invading your mind, body and soul– you desperately pulled him closer. Wanting him to take everything you have, wanting his thoughts to be filled with you too as your lips moved languidly together with fervor.

A gentle gasp left your lips as you felt his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth tasting you. A deep groan erupted from his mouth, god you loved his groans, he wanted you and he wanted to let you know that he did. The way his lips moved with yours, the sound of your breaths swallowing each other’s as your hands explored each other’s bodies leaving a firework like sensation through your clothed skin.

It left you ravenous for more.

“Jump..” Jim whispered against your lips, you immediately obeyed as you jumped, and instantly you felt his hands catch you. Your legs draped around his waist as his hands were under your thighs keeping you still now walking you to your room impressively without breaking the feverish kisses, tongues tangled, and hands squeezing and gripping each other.

Jim effortlessly shoved away your neatly folded laundry off the bed before gently placing you on the mattress. Everything seemed to fade into a beautiful blur as you felt your back melt into the mattress, his body hovering over yours, as nothing else seemed to matter anymore. What only mattered was you and Jim in this moment, exploring these intense emotions that you both held for each other. Keeping your legs around his torso, diminishing the space between you two, you felt his restrained erection from his jeans as he gently grinded his hips against yours causing a moan to escape from your small frame but only to be muffled by his soft lips that were against yours.

There was no stopping now, as you could feel the warm dampness pool in your underwear– your bodies molding together like colors on a canvas. Your hands slipped underneath his shirt feeling the movement of his back muscles moving beneath your touch. Jim then pulled away from the kiss now sitting up causing you to grunt quietly out of disapprovement wanting him to come back as he quickly discarded his ebony quarter sleeve top revealing his chest. With half lidded dazed eyes you watched as he gazed down at you with his sharp sunken ocean blue optics that were clouded with nothing but desire for you.

Both of you were breathing heavily, aching to taste each other’s lips once more. “May I?” He asked softly as his fingers gently fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You nodded your head giving him consent to remove your white oversized t-shirt. You knew you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your shirt. You were at home, so why would you wear one?

He swiftly removed your top, revealing your breasts– the cool air nipped at your heated skin feeling your nipples turn hard from the little breeze. In a pleasurable haze you continued to watch the way his lashes fluttered against his freckled cheeks as your heaving bosom was now exposed for him to take in. His gazed burned into your skin causing you to shiver once more, watching his lust filled eyes rake down from your exposed neck to your torso. You felt so bare in front of him, it was as if your skin was translucent and he could see right through you.

Reading your thoughts, your emotions, your heart– it made you flushed. That was another thing you adore about him, how blue his eyes were and how a simple glance from him can make you shiver. Jim then leaned back down over you but this time you felt his fingertips delicately trace your body feeling every contour of your skin, trailing his fingertips from your abdomen to the valley of your chest to your cheek, while he was using his other arm to hold himself over you so he wouldn’t crush you completely with his weight.

You sucked in a sharp inhale as you felt his face lean in towards you nuzzling his nose in the nape of your neck before pressing featherlike kisses on your neck. Your eyes fluttered to a close tilting your head more to the side giving him more access to your neck, your cheek resting against his palm. Jim didn’t hesitate to nibble and kiss as much of your skin as possible leaving you breathless.

You were aching so bad for him that it began to hurt. You could feel his lips at one spot before going to another and next thing you know he was everywhere, just worshiping you with his lips. His lips trailing down to your body, going from your neck, collarbone, then to your heaving breast. “You’re so beautiful..” Jim whispered as he kissed the center of your chest where your heartbeat was. His praise causes your pussy to clench at nothing but air.

“Jim..” You whimpered out softly as you needed him. “I got you, sweetheart. Just let me enjoy this.” He murmured as he then lowered his mouth to your breasts and glided his tongue across your nipple, earning a moan out of you as he covered your right breast with his mouth completely. While his other hand slipped past the waistband of your pajama shorts, into your underwear. You gasped softly at the cool sensation of his fingers feeling the slit of your wet folds. “You’re so wet, for me Y/N...” Jim chuckled quietly before moving his mouth to tend your other breast giving it the same attention.

Patience was treading on thin ice with you, and you knew Jim was teasing you. And you damn well knew that he wasn’t lying either. Your underwear was beyond saving considering how aroused you were, seriously you swore you felt your arousal drip between your inner thighs until you felt Jim’s middle finger flick against your throbbing nub between your legs causing your body to jolt with a moan spilling from your lips.

Jim took notice as he continued circling your clit with his finger feeling up your juices before slipping in his middle finger into your pussy with a gentle squelch noise. “Fuck Jim!” You whined softly in ecstasy feeling your head fall back deeper against the pillow your eyes still clamped shut as Jim pumped his finger in and out of you in a slow pace before building speed, his middle finger curling up inside of you hitting your g spot within your warm tight wet walls.

You felt Jim pull away from your breasts before pressing his lips back onto yours muffling your moans as his tongue slipped back into your mouth mingling with yours, he then added another finger stretching you out once more causing you to whimper against his lips, as he fucked you fast and hard with his fingers despite the little room he had in your shorts and underwear.

Clearly he was preparing you and this was the only start of what was going to happen. With so much pleasure you were desperate to hold onto something, as your hands found his shoulders gripping him for dear life, the knot in your tummy beginning growing tighter, your folds fluttering shut against his fingers.

God, you have forgotten how good it felt to be touched like this, to have someone’s undivided attention on you and your pleasure alone. As the only times you had sex they would either finish too fast and leave you unsatisfied or they would make you focus on them. Not Jim, he wanted to infiltrate your thoughts with his touch, his lips– everything he possibly could and you were letting him.

Jim then pulled his fingers out of you, quickly slipping off your shorts and underwear down to your ankles and you kicked them to the side before Jim reattached his coated fingertips to your clit. Swiping his fingers against your anching nub once more, he pulled away from your lips as you both breathed heavily in unison. You could feel your mind submerge into a euphoric haze feeling your climax creeping up on you. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this with you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear before nibbling your earlobe causing you to gasp softly. “M-Me too Jim..” You breathed out shuddering against his body feeling each rub from his finger sent more intense ripples of pleasure to your stomach.

Jim then sank his fingers back into you to the knuckle curling them immaculately against your g spot once more with precision. And just like that you felt the knot become undone in your stomach as immense waves of pleasure your orgasm ripped through you sending you over to the edge. Loud mewls escaped your lips as Jim stilled his fingers inside of you, feeling your throbbing walls clamp down on his fingers.

You both laid there breathless for a moment as Jim pressed gentle kisses around your face while you were coming down from your high. “You okay?” He asked you softly as he placed a gentle kiss on your neck pulling his fingers out from you causing you to whimper quietly from the loss of his fingers. Weakly, you nodded your head slowly catching your breath, “Jim, I want you..” you said in an airy tone as your hand reached down to his erection that was bulging from his jeans, your fingers tracing the outline evicting a sharp inhale from him.

Jim immediately obliged as he helped you pull down his pants along with his boxers allowing his cock sprung free from it’s restraints making him sigh out of relief. You couldn’t help to drool slightly at the sight of his length– how long and thick it was as it hung from his body. You weren’t sure if you wanted to taste him or have him inside of you- either way both of those thoughts were making you ache heavily with desire.

Jesus, his wife really did hit the jackpot with this man.

A shaky exhale left your lips as Jim gently caressed your cheek with his thumb before gently pushing you back against the mattress, his eyes fixated on you. He rose on his knees as you were now able to take in the sight of his exposed body– now his firm erection only a few inches away from your dripping entrance. “Open up your legs for me, darling.” He demanded softly with his large hands pushing your legs apart gently. His voice was deep and breathless that sent another wave of shivers throughout your body.

Fuck, these pet names he was calling you — were going to kill you.

Without hesitation you spread your thighs wider for him, now being completely bare and open to him. “Good girl..” Jim praised with a little smirk tugging on his lips, causing your heart to flutter.

You were holding in your breath as you watched his hips with one gentle fluid motion he thrusted into you making you cry out loudly, your walls stretching with an intense pressure slowly filling you up only halfway in. “Are you alright? Do you want to stop?” He asked with concern as he gazed down at you; his dark graying tresses disheveled, his large hands holding your thighs keeping you still. He was so kind, it was making you melt beneath him. “I-I’m okay, keep going.” You whispered as you began to grip his shoulders once more, your nails sinking into his skin .

“That’s my girl..” Jim praised once more as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was so hot, you never would even think Jim would have this side of him. He then shifted his knees before thrusting into you completely, his cock deeply sheathed into you. Your mouth fell open as a loud moan spilled from your lips, your eyes clamped shut once more– god, you felt so impossibly full. Jim completely invades you as your bodies are finally connected in the best way. Your thighs squeezed against his waist but he only pushed them apart tenderly. “Ah, F-Fuck..” He groaned out shakily, as he admired the way his cock completely vanished inside of you before closing his eyes allowing his head to fall forward slightly.

You opened your eyes as you breathed heavily, adjusting to his size– his moans making you clench around causing him to gasp. Your desire growing insatiably stronger, you rolled your hips against his desperately pulling a loud moan out of you as you felt the head of his penis kiss your cervix. A deep grunt left his lips as he leaned down towards you releasing your thighs– his chest now pressed against yours as both of his elbows were resting on either sides of your head.

Immediately he began thrusting into you with a slow moderate pace as your body moved up and down slightly with a string of moans spilling from your lips– pleasure completely consuming your body. Jim released a breath as he managed to grab both of your hands intertwining your fingers together pinning them next to your head as his hips slammed against yours.

You turned your head away as you whimpered loudly at how he continued hitting your cervix with perfect precision, “Y/N… Keep your eyes on me.” Jim demanded his voice dark and low. Your body shuddered as you obliged, turning your head to look at him to find him already gazing at you with half lidded eyes that were nothing but filled with affection and lust.

Both of your gazes burned into each other as his thrusts became more relentless, making you feel like you were on cloud nine of pleasure and ecstasy. Jim groaned as he felt your walls clamp around him tight not wanting to let him go– nevertheless he didn’t ease his hard and fast pace. All that was heard in your bedroom was the sound of wet bodies clashing together, as his cock brushed against your clit causing you to arch your back, your chest melting into his, your hands squeezing his. “S-Shit, you feel so good, Jim..” You mewled as your bodies continued moving together in sync.

The friction between you made you burn with desire. “You feel even better, Y-Y/N..Fuck..” He gasped out as his face scrunched up slightly at how tight you were, his mouth hanging slightly open as heavy breaths escaped his parted lips as he aimed to make you come first. You could feel yourself slipping, getting lost in Jim, truly no other thoughts that weren’t anything else but him.

You then wrapped your legs around his hips causing him to sink deeper into you making you both moan out loud in unison, the familiar coil in your stomach began to form knowing you were about to reach your climax for the second time as your heavy breathing began to become unsteady.

Jim then pressed his lips against yours in an eager open mouthed kiss, like he knew you were close and he continued plunging himself deeply into you as he was getting close to his own climax as well.

“I-I’m close..” You breathlessly stammered against his lips as his teeth sank down at your bottom lip before pulling away and releasing it. “Come for me, sweetheart.” Jim whispered as he watched you tremble against his body squeezing his hands tightly as your body was pressed deeper into the mattress. You then cried out as your body arched against him, you felt the knot in your stomach finally snap as your climax washed over you with the familiar waves of pleasure.

Frail moans left your lips as Jim quickened his pace as he used your limp body to chase his climax before releasing a loud groan, his hips stuttering slightly before being buried deep inside of you as he ejaculated his semen, staining your walls.

Jim stayed still for a second trying to catch his breath before slowly pulling out of you causing you to whimper softly as he collapsed on top of you, his head resting against your chest, both of your naked bodies lightly coated with sweat. Your head was spinning, your mind completely lost in a fog as you both basked in the afterglow of this moment.

Once your breathing became steady again as you slowly came down from your high you felt Jim roll off of you as he laid next to you leaving you still laying on your back as you two went silent.

Even the silence felt so loud.

He then pulled the comforters over your naked bodies as he laid on his side facing you. You could feel his gaze burn into the side of your face as you kept your eyes on the ceiling finally processing what just happened.

“Hey..” Jim called out to you quietly as he scooted closer to you draping his lightly freckled arm around your body pulling you close as you turned to face him on your side, you can tell that he hated when things go quiet like this.

Your little panic gaze burned into his, and he already knew how you were feeling. “Y/N..Talk to me.” Jim begged as he gently cradled your cheek with his palm which you instinctively melted into.

You sighed deeply into his touch, your mind unsure if having sex even fixed anything between you two, if anything it added more fuel to the fire of your problems.

And this is where you knew that you messed up..

Big time.

***

PART 2 COMING SOON ;)

I hope you guys enjoyed it ! First one shot for this page. And honestly this is the first smut I’ve ever written so I hope I did Jim Justice but bro was so romantic. I apologize for any grammar error or anything that looks weird- But anyways, thank you guys for reading! ♡

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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

Text

It’s Alright, It’s Okay

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader {Could be platonic but that’s not where my brain was}

Setting: Alexandria era

Warnings: Mentions of self harm, struggles with mental illness

Summary: You accidentally allow Daryl to see your scars.

A/N: Yesterday sucked for me for a million different reasons. This is really a way for me to vent more than anything. I’ve never done a y/n before so I’m sorry if I screw it up. No beta, all mistakes are cause I suck.

“I got the dishes!” You volunteered, probably a little too cheerfully, before collecting the empty plates from the coffee table and shuffling along to the kitchen. You had a dining table but it had never seen a single use.

It had been a rather uneventful day in Alexandria, for which you were thankful. That meant no one had died just trying to complete what used to be mundane tasks for everyday living. Now, since the world had gone to shit, everything was a risk. Just scrubbing the sauce from those dishes could somehow very well lead to your demise. Regardless, you rolled up your sleeves and ran the water.

Daryl had brought home a deer earlier in the day. It was a large buck that would feed the town for a while if the meat was rationed properly. He had been given his own portion, as per usual, for being responsible for the kill. The archer had used the meat grinder in the kitchen at his and Carol’s place, meaning, of course, that Carol had offered and he had shrugged while sharpening a knife.

You had chosen that moment to knock on their door. The silver-haired woman had shown you a cookie recipe but the pantry was out of an ingredient. Carol usually had the things you needed or would at least know something you could substitute.

“Oh, man! My sister used to make venison spaghetti!” You had commented while she had stepped away to get what you needed. You had half a box of angel hair pasta and a can of sauce at your place. “Hey, Dixon?” You continued when he hummed in acknowledgment, “think I could steal just a little of this to make some?”

He had stared at you for a moment before giving a nod. In your excitement, you had thrown him an invite to share the meal just as Carol returned and handed over the ziplock bag with the ingredient you needed for the cookies.

“Alright.” He drawled, sheathing the knife he had been working with.

You quickly invited Carol as well, realizing what you had done, but she smiled knowingly and shook her head. You had at least waited until you were on their porch before slapping a palm to your forehead and calling yourself an idiot.

Still, dinner had gone over without a hitch, even if you did sit side by side on the couch with your plates on your laps. You had laughed when he’d tip back his head to dangle the end of the noodles over his mouth so he could descend the forkful carefully. He had even chuckled when you had dropped half a bite onto your shirt when trying to mimic his actions. It had really been…nice.

Now you stood in your kitchen, rinsing the dishes and placing them in the strainer. You hadn’t heard him enter, but you rarely did. The man moved like a ghost for someone his size.

“S’that from?” His sudden inquiry from just behind you had startled you enough to send the plate clattering into the sink. It didn’t break, thank goodness.

“What’s what from?” You replied, casting him a brief glance before you continued your task. The last dish was quickly rinsed and placed with the others.

“Them scars.”

You were drying your hands on a towel when you suddenly stilled. Fuck. The pale, raised imperfections stood out starkly on your forearms and you instantly felt nausea creeping up your throat, burning at the back of your tongue. “Oh, that’s nothing.” You dropped the towel and quickly started to roll down your sleeves.

But he was faster.

His calloused fingers felt rough against your skin in contrast to his gentle grip around your wrist. You felt electric pulses centering from where he was touching you, but the shame erupting from within you wouldn’t allow you to dwell on how right that felt.

Tears were already forming on your lashes as he studied the myriad of scars littering your arm from wrist to elbow. Some were larger or more jagged than others, but each one contained a story of your past; a hurt you inflicted upon yourself to cope with the hurt done to you by someone else.

“Don’t look like nothin’ to me.”

You had never heard him speak so softly and it made you feel that much worse. Daryl Dixon was anything but soft. For him to pity you must mean you were a real piece of work.

“Please,” you begged, your bottom lip quivering. You were barely holding yourself together. “Just…leave it.”

Those striking blue eyes left your arm to focus on your face. You quickly looked away, lest he see how pathetic you were. He released you and took a step back.

“Thanks for dinner, Y/N.”

You nodded and tried to smile, but never met his gaze before you heard the front door close. You sat on the kitchen floor and cried for hours, finally dragging yourself to the couch a few hours before you’d have to be up for the start of another day.

Months passed by and things changed, as they often did. You started to find Daryl sitting on your porch steps, cleaning his crossbow or tinkering with some motorcycle part. Most days, you just offered him a greeting and went on your way. Some days, when you were feeling brave or especially curious, you would ask about his weapon. His replies were always short and gruff but never rude or angry.

Eventually, this became the norm. You started bringing him water or lemonade, sitting with him while you drank your tea. Conversations were never lengthy but enough to ensure any silence was comfortable. You started to miss him when he was gone for runs or recruiting. Then you’d open your door one morning to find him perched in what you had long ago deemed ‘his spot’ and the smile that would grace your features was unbidden yet genuine.

One warm summer evening, while you sat together on the top step, your head was laid against his shoulder while his arm was draped around yours. The first time you had tried to lean on him, he had flinched so hard that he had dropped the water glass and you had apologized profusely while cleaning up the mess. At some later point, you both had started dropping your walls, bit by bit, and now here you were.

Still, even with the contentment you found in each other's company, something lingered.

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?”

You could feel him move and knew he was looking down toward where your temple rested against the front of his shoulder. “I’d like to tell you about it now,” you paused for a breath, “if you still want to know.” You waited for him to ask what you were talking about but, as he tended to do, the archer surprised you.

“Ya can tell me if ya wanna talk ‘bout it. Ya don’t hafta though.”

You smiled to yourself but it faded just as quickly. “I did it to myself.” You took another deep breath before continuing, keeping your eyes on the stars in the distant sky. “My life was hard even before the end of the world. I couldn’t cope with the things that happened to me…that were done to me… so I’d find something sharp—” you heard and felt his breath hitch but you couldn’t stop now. “I’d use anything at first. Anything that could make a cut. Eventually I started using a razor blade.” You just let the words tumble out, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. “Everything just hurt so bad and it was the only way I could handle it all. It was the only thing that kept the pain at bay. I know it doesn’t make sense but I just… I needed…”

You felt Daryl shift and quickly found yourself pressed against his chest, his arm around your back while his other hand pressed against the back of your head. He had hugged you before but this? This was different. He didn’t say anything but you already knew that he wasn’t good with words, especially when it came to expressing emotion. So he was offering you this comfort.

And you accepted it without a second thought, crying hard while your hands fisted the material of his leather vest. The more you trembled, the tighter he held you. It was as if he was trying to keep you from shaking apart but somehow you knew that even if you did, he would pick up the pieces and put you together again.

After a long while, your tears had all but stopped, leaving you a sniffling, tired mess in his arms. He didn’t seem to care but had loosened his hold slightly and was rubbing small circles over your back while you collected yourself.

Now came the shame. “I’m sorry.” You managed quickly while you pulled away from him. His hands hovered for a moment like you would fall apart again any moment but he soon let them fall onto his knees.

“What for?”

You could see him trying to catch your gaze from the corner of your eye as you wiped angrily at your face. “I know what I did was stupid.”

“It weren’t stupid, Y/N.” Daryl said softly. You remembered when he had used that same softness when he had first seen the proof of your self mutilation. You nodded but didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually, you went back to staring at the stars, even though you could feel him still staring at you.

“I don’t hate them, you know.” You finally said. With a sigh, you braved a glance at him. He was still watching you, expression unreadable but not hard. “My scars.” Daryl nodded for you to continue. “I had a lot of battles and they are proof of that but… I won.” You looked away and shrugged with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m still here.”

“M’glad.” He replied quickly, drawing your gaze back to him. “That you’re still here.”

You smiled again. It was small but this time, it was genuine. “Me too.” You watched each other for a few moments and you couldn’t help but notice him draw his bottom lip in between his teeth to gnaw at it. As you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay, he pushed himself off the step to stand.

“C’mon.” Daryl jerked his head toward your front door. Your brow knitted in confusion but you stood and crossed the small distance to the door.

“Daryl?”

“I wanna show ya somethin’.” He answered when his name had barely left your lips. Daryl reached in front of you to pull open the screen door and motioned for you to enter first. You could hear the deep, steadying breath he took as he followed you inside and began closing your door. “Ya trusted me with yours. I wanna trust ya with mine.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead daryl dixon #Spotify

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racingline3 · 10 months

Text

Early Mornigs ~ Lewis Hamilton

♡ Lewis Hamilton x Reader (!Russell Sister)

Description: Early mornings at the Paddock become a lot more interesting

~fluff & a bit of angst ~

Weekend mornings were your new favourite time of the week.

It had happened by complete accident.

You had been extra early one Friday morning to the Paddock and made a beeline for the Mercedes catering truck to find it wasn’t completely set up. There was one table and chairs set up and someone was sitting there already.

But it wasn’t just anyone. It was Lewis Hamilton.

Being George’s older sister, you had met the man before, when George had first signed his contract, at a Mercedes Friends and Family event. You saw him around the garage but you were always hiding away in George’s side, keeping out of everyone’s way.

You had never spoken to him alone. But you did need somewhere to sit until everything else set up. You were far too aware that he was a multiple time world champion and practical living legend but you reminded yourself he was still a human being too.

“Hi…eh, Lewis?” You ask, “Would you mind if I take a seat?” You nod to the chair on the other side of the large table, while juggling your coffee mug, bag and laptop.

He looks up from his phone and recognition dawns on his face, he says your name like you chat everyday, “George’s sister right?”

You think that it must speak volumes about his character to bother remembering the names of peripheral family of your teammate at this kind of elite level. “Of course, take a seat.”

“Thanks so much. I didn’t mean to get here so early.” You apologize.

“No worries.” He waves away your apology. “It’s nice to be here before the craziness descends.” He smiles softly.

“Oh God, am I interrupting your pre race ritual? Pretend I’m not here.” You rush out, opening your laptop to put a barrier between the two of you.

“No, not at all. I just like to get my coffee before the mayhem. I’m not a morning person by nature so I like to have some time before jumping into the day’s meetings.”

You shut your laptop down with a click, “Oh that’s good, because it is far too early for me to start work.” You grin and crip your mug with both hands.

“You work this early?” He asks, his head tipping to the side slightly, giving you his full attention.

It was complicated to say the least, “Eh…I mean…not…”

“Some things are too difficult to talk about this early in the morning.” He says leaning across to you ever so slightly.

“Yeah.” You admit with a sigh.

“Wait, I thought you didn’t like Formula 1?” You look at him in disbelief as he remembers something you mentioned when you had been chatting to him and Toto when George was signing his contract. “It’s pretty unusual for everyone in the family not to be consumed by it all.” His smile is smaller, as if he’s self-conscious of remembering something so specific about you.

You lean over and fake whisper, “I probably wouldn’t watch motor sports if George wasn’t involved.”

He places a hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“It’s just cars driving in circles.” You quip, using the description that always drove George mad with indignation.

But Lewis just throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

“So you’re a good sister to come here and put up with all this then?” He asks as he idly traces a finger around the rim of his mug and you have the sudden ache for him to softly trace his finger like that against your collarbone.

“I love George. We all helped him make his dream come through, and now he’s helping me.” You say and Lewis doesn’t push when you don’t give anymore information.

“It’s nice when the first thing someone talks to me about isn’t my racing strategy, my thoughts on FIA regulations and the rest of it.” He admits.

“Oh damn, I was actually going to ask you about a race in 2015 when…” You say but laugh instead, “I can’t even come up with an example.” You shrug.

It was then you got hit by the effect of Lewis’ full smile, one that lit up his eyes and made your heart beat that little bit faster.

*****************

You spent all Friday evening overthinking it all. If you turned up to Paddock early again on Saturday and Lewis was there, would he think you were being a stalker?

You ignored the tiny voice that mentioned that if he wasn’t there, that you’d be disappointed.

So you turned up, the same time as the previous day and to your utter relief Lewis smiled when he saw you and pointed to the chair opposite him.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He grins.

“I swear I’m not stalking you.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop. The familiar grip of anxiety clasped around your throat.

“I’m going to have to call off the restraining order now.” He says with a straight face and you panic for a split second before his mouth twitches into a grin, “I’m just joking, I never thought you were. You know people usually follow me around to see the trophies and hear the on-track stories, I kind of think that would send you running.”

“Straight to a plane and back to England.” You confirm when your shoulders relax at his jovial mood.

He laughs again and you’re worried that the sound is becoming more addictive than your morning caffeine hit.

"I hate driving." You admit and he looks at you like you're a puzzle he wants to solve, "that's why I'm here so early. I avoid all the traffic and there's plenty of room for me to try and park without anyone looking at how many tries it takes me." You blush, wondering why his presence made you feel comfortable enough to say things you'd never tell anyone else.

Perhaps it's because it's just the two of you.

Perhaps it's the early morning.

Or perhaps that's just the effect that Lewis has on you.

He nods as he digests your words, "So you do what you're scared of despite the fear, that’s pretty brave you know. I'm here because once people know I'm awake my life is full of noise, full of schedules and training and sometimes I need a break, without offending anyone."

"So you can be Lewis and not Lewis Hamilton?" You ask.

"Yeah exactly." He says, his eyes might as well have been looking right into your very soul.

It was probably for the best that his phone started ringing. "Toto." He says as he glances at the screen.

"Time to go be Lewis Hamilton." You say softly.

"I'll see you tomorrow? " He asks as he stands up before answering his phone.

"See you then."

It had been that simple.

You and Lewis and met you every morning of a Grand Prix for months.

You had told him about the burnout you had at your corporate job and how George had come to your rescue and wanted you to travel with him for a year, seeing as you had taken extra part-time jobs for years to help fund his karting career.

About how your dream was to be a published writer and so while everyone timed laps, you were timing story pace. How you were very happy to let George take the limelight and had your pen name chosen.

He told you how claustrophobic life could be like for him. How he missed his family and normal life sometimes. How he felt such pressure on his shoulders. How hungry he was for another world championship.

The two of you, being each others’ rock for a while every time the storms of the Grand Prix hit. It felt like a special little bubble.

Until it burst.

**********************

You have a skip in your step as you enter the catering area, you had come up with the resolution of a plot twist that had been annoying you and can’t wait to tell Lewis about it.

But Lewis isn't at his, your, usual table.

You stop before telling yourself he must be running late and get your coffee.

And wait.

You even send him a text to see if he's okay. You had long since swapped numbers, you delighted when your little bubble extended to everyday life as you sent him driving memes and he sent you pictures of Roscoe.

You know he had had a bad qualifying but that had never stopped him turning up before. He doesn't even read the message and you sit there until your coffee turns cold.

It was only worse later on in the day when your heart was practically flooded with ice when Lewis walked right past you in the Paddock, ignoring when you said hi and disappearing into the crowd.

He knew you hid from the media, wearing a peak cap at all times and never speaking to many people at a Grand Prix so as not to draw attention to yourself. So the mere act of saying hello to him was a big deal.

And now you were left standing in the middle of the chaos watching as Lewis Hamilton walked away and you wondered where the hell your Lewis had gone.

You had kept your meetups as a sweet secret just for the two of you. Now you wished you had yelled it from the rooftops just so that someone else knew about it and so you know it wasn't all a dream.

The next time you got close to him was when he was going for the drivers parade and you called to him.

He reached up and put his sunglasses down over his eyes and walked by you like you were just another person of the omnipresent crowd around him.

You go straight to George. He looks up from some stats he's looking over and frowns when he sees your face. "What's wrong?" Your little brother knows you well.

"Nothing. It's just…has Lewis been acting differently with you today?"

He seems to ponder it, "No but…"

"But what Georgie?"

"Is there something going on between you and Lewis?"

"What?"

"I just heard some rumors. You were seen together and you know how the gossip rumor works, you’re practically married by now." He shrugs.

"There's nothing happening. I just thought we were friends." You admit. "He's been off with me today."

"I'm sure it's not on purpose, Lewis is a good guy." He huffs then and crosses his arms, "But if something happens I'm going to have to have a talk with him."

You roll your eyes with a laugh, "You don't have to protect me Georgie."

Someone called George from inside the garage and your talk was cut short. You could do nothing but go along with the flow as the race set up and the lights went out.You felt a headache coming on. It just worsened as you watched the race, trying to pretend to be normal.

Trying to pretend that Lewis hadn't hurt you. Trying to pretend that you hadn't given Lewis your heart over the past few months and he may as well have driven his car over it.

*******************

As the race trundled on, you wondered when exactly you had fallen in love with Lewis. The realisation hit you as hard as a car hitting the wall on a street circuit.

You had fallen in love with his smile, his way of thinking, his values, his terrible dad jokes, his very soul.

He had once told you that you were brave. So you mustered all you could, shoved your anxiety back down your throat and stalked across the garage post race like a woman on a mission.

You didn't care who saw you. You didn't care if everyone posted it on every social media platform.

You followed Lewis into his trailer, jumping up the step and stopping the door closing behind him.

He looks at you as you close the door behind you, sweat stuck to his skin and his breath still slightly laboured from the race.

"What is going on?" You ask, trying to get his attention as he looks out the window of his trailer before shutting the blinds. "What are you doing?" You ask, completely bewildered.

It was like all your nightmares coming true.

Was he ashamed to be seen with you?

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his voice hard.

"What is going on Lewis? I thought we were friends." You fire back as gruffly.

His eyes soften, "Of course we are."

"Then what the hell is happening?"

"What's happening is that people have found out we hang out."

"So you don't want anyone to know that you know me?" Your stomach churned at the thought of being some dirty secret for him.

"No I don't." He says, then his armor falls away, "Because then you would be sucked into my media storm and you don't deserve that. It's better if we keep a distance."

"You didn't want to tell me any of this?" You wonder aloud.

"Because people change when they have a chance at fame."

"And you thought that of me?" You hated that your voice broke over his lack of trust in you.

"No. Not for a second. But you don't want this. You hate fame. You want a quiet life and I can't give you that." His voice was strained. "So it's...."

"Better to keep our distance, apparently?" You tossed his words back to him.

He nods, "Because it hit me, if I spend much more time with you, I won't ever want to let you go, and you won't want to stay amidst the chaos."

He stole the air right out of your lungs.

"I like you. I’ve started to look forward more to seeing you than the races at weekends." He says, "And I don't want to keep hold of you if you don’t any of this, so I'm letting you go before this gets...,"

"Lewis." You say, your voice practically strangled by emotion. "I'm not going anywhere."

The air became heavy, your heart started racing as if it had been given a jump by DRS.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I figured you're better off without me and the crazy rumours." He says.

You don't know where you find the courage to take a step towards him. "What if they're not rumors anymore?"

He gently encircles one of your wrists with his hand, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.

“You’re right. I don’t like the limelight, I’m shy and quiet and I don’t care about Formula 1 further than you and George love it. I don’t care about any of it, Lewis. I don't want you for your fame. I care about you. I want you."

He lifts your hand so it's placed on his shoulder, you dig you fingers into his race suit immediately as if you plan to hold onto him for dear life.

“I thought it would hurt you more, all of this.” He admits. “And I never want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t push me away.” You tell him, “I know my own mind and I want to be here.”

He does exactly as you ask as he moves an arm around your waist and takes the final step towards you. He leans down, his mouth ghosting over yours, giving you another chance to back out, to run a mile.

So you lean in the rest of the way.

The world rearranges itself so there’s nothing but Lewis, how he tastes, how he feels, as he pulls you fully against him.

If this is the exhilaration of driving a Formula 1 car, you really can’t blame Lewis for loving it so much.

It was Toto Wolff of all people who barged in and interrupted the best damn kiss of your life. You pulled away but Lewis kept his hand on your back.

“Ah.” He says in usual straight talking manner. “This is why you’re so happy at our morning meetings lately.”

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #f1blr #f1 fluff #fl #formula 1 #george russell #paddock #paddock gossip #blurb #long blurb

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landwriter · 1 year

Text

Desperate Measures | Dream/Hob | 1.2K | G v silly and fluffy, literally 90% air, dream attempts a romantic gesture, hob is a sap and forgetful, human au, part text fic

for @domaystic drabbles, Day 6: Under the Same Umbrella

---

Dream woke up to 26 texts from Hob. He put on his glasses and began his morning read. It’d replaced Times for him. The editorial quality, he thought, was far superior.

Hob (7:19 am) heading out, gave you a wee forehead kiss and you didn’t even stir. sleeping bloody beauty. love you disgustingly much x

Hob (7:26 am) couldn’t find my umbrella anywhere can you take a look if it’s not too much of a bother? feel like i’ve gone mad

Hob (7:30 am) christ it’s bucketing down!! standing under the eaves just to tell you how much it’s bucketing down

plants will be happy at least so will my goth boyfriend ;) hope your writing goes well today love. extra atmosphere!!

Hob (8:42 am) nevermind don’t look for it remembered that i left it in my office told johanna she can use it since i’m at the archives all day anyway glad i’m not the only one who’d forget their own head if it wasn’t screwed on :) :) :)

Hob (10:11 am) you should’ve seen the look lisa gave me when i showed up had to dry myself off in the men’s w half a forest of paper towels there goes my carbon offset from walking i said christ you’re probably still in bed asleep warm dry!! lucky bastard

wish i could come back already and drip puddles all over you

Hob (10:37 am) if this keeps up i’m going to look like mr darcy in the rain on your doorstep tonight don’t worry i promise not to propose marriage while insulting you xx although i do love you most ardently

...elizabeth

Dream smiled, read them all again, contemplated, and then sent his reply.

Dream (11:01 am) Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through

Hob replied moments later.

?? you sound like a customer service agent wait you’re quoting the film you can’t reject me if i’ve not proposed to you!! yet!!!

Dream snorted. 'and I am very sorry I have caused you pain' went the line. They’d watched it last weekend. Hob had cried, and Dream had privately decided that if Hob proposed, he’d say yes. Even if it was poorly done. It wouldn’t be, though. Not if Hob was doing it. He sent a second text.

...and I am very sorry you were drenched by rain.

Then he got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. His phone buzzed anew as he made tea and toast. He smiled at the sound. On their first date, Hob had warned Dream that he had a bad habit of annoying boyfriends over text. Dream, on his first date in six years, had wondered what it might be like to be so effusively charming that you could have enough boyfriends to form habits around them at all. He hadn’t known what to say, and Hob had ducked his head, grimacing a little, and said, “Just tell me to piss off, please, if I do? I know I can be a bit much.”

Dream believed it, because the man was telling him about his habits with boyfriends after one date. Not that he minded. And three months in, Dream had yet to tell him to piss off.

Turns out, a bit much was exactly what he’d wanted. Needed, in truth. Someone to tether him to the real world. His phone had become a modern-day lodestone in his pocket, a comforting pull of Hob-ness that would always point him back to life whenever he’d emerge, blinking and disoriented, out of the mire of his work. Work that he loved - creating worlds out of nothing, writing stories that would change people - but, coming on the age of thirty with nothing to show for it but recurring wrist strain and an upmarket flat that never had any guests, work that had also made him spend so much time apart from the rest of humanity that he was sometimes unsure how to rejoin it.

The tipping point had been when his eldest sister had found out that he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in between two of their regular dinners. Which were monthly. It had been mortifying. She’d smiled sadly, which was excruciating enough, and then gotten the gleam of a plan in her eyes, which had been far worse. “I’m setting you up,” she’d said. “I know just the guy. We go way back. I think you’ll like him.”

He had. Now, when his phone buzzed, he found himself frowning if it wasn’t Hob. (An exceedingly rare occasion.) But this time it was, of course. Four short messages sent one after the other:

hahahaha ok fine that was v good enjoy your day x

Five hours later, not even the curtain of rain awaiting him outside could douse the anticipation in his belly. An idea, he knew, was a powerful thing. Dream didn’t have an umbrella - Hob always shared with him, and would’ve apologetically nicked his if he had - so he would make the first leg of the journey as Hob did. He intended to go and get something nice, but once in the cold downpour, his resolve failed him almost at once, and he ducked into the first shop that had umbrellas in the window.

“Hiya,” said the girl at the counter without looking up from her phone.

Dream ignored her, blinking the rain out of his eyes, belatedly registering all the merchandise had a unifying theme and that he’d made a terrible mistake, borne of sheer desperation.

“Would you happen to have any other umbrellas? In black?” he asked. Hidden behind the counter, perhaps. If only you knew to ask.

The girl looked at him with an air of disbelieving reproval only accessible to teenagers and the very elderly. “You could try Boots, you know. It’s just down the street.”

Dream looked out the window. Rain torrented down. Commuters hurried past with their sensibly coloured umbrellas. From places exactly like Boots.

“Or we’ve got rain ponchos,” she added. It sounded like a threat.

“Nevermind,” said Dream quickly. “I’ll take it.”

“Enjoy your visit in London, sir,” she called out as he left.

He stepped outside and flicked open the umbrella with slightly more force than necessary.

Dream waited a few paces outside the archives, wanting to surprise Hob properly. Two separate pairs of tourists had thought he was their London Ghost Tours guide, and he was beginning to regret not holding out for longer, drenching be damned. Then Hob emerged, striding out and immediately stopping to pull out his phone. He was smiling at it. Dream smiled too, in anticipation.

A moment later his own phone buzzed loudly in his coat pocket, and Hob looked up in surprise.

“Oh my god,” he said. Then he said it again.

“I heard you needed an umbrella,” said Dream. He’d had the line already, since he got the idea. It had been very dashing and romantic in his head. It was somewhat undermined by the dreadful costuming choice that had been forced upon him.

Hob looked between Dream and the umbrella, bafflement melting into a happy laugh. He ducked underneath, pecking Dream on the lips. “I’m not sure I needed one quite this badly. Did you rob some poor tourist?”

“Unhappily, I paid for this.”

“Oh no,” said Hob, pulling away and pretending to inspect him for injury. “My poor darling. Your dignity.”

Dream sniffed. “I will recover.”

“Here,” said Hob. “I’ll carry it for you. You’ll only be guilty by association, then.”

They began walking, a bobbing Union Jack in a sea of blacks and greys. After the chief sin of ugliness, it was also a little small for two grown men, but Dream found he didn’t resent that at all, as Hob tucked him tightly into his side to keep them both dry. People gave them a wide berth. Tourists could never be trusted with umbrellas.

“You’ve rescued me, you know,” said Hob, nuzzling into his cheek.

“It wouldn’t do to have you dripping puddles all over the floors,” said Dream.

“Even if I looked terribly handsome, all wet and ardent?”

Dream bit his lip and smiled a little. “Perhaps you can be wet and ardent in the shower. Instead.”

Hob laughed again. It was Dream’s favourite sound. “Much warmer than the rain anyway. Deal.” Rain drummed down on their private nylon ceiling. “I was thinking chicken tikka masala for dinner?”

And so they made their way home, and although the rain never let up, Dream was so content and warm that he might’ve sworn they were walking in the sun.

#dreamling #domaystic2023 #this is DISTRESSINGLY sweet you've been warned #the sandman #three days in a row!#new record for actually doing a monthly prompt thing #continuing to just write about today's weather and call it a fic #my writing #the sandman fanfic

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pearlywritings · 2 years

Text

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love”

synopsis: little snippets about Genshin men and their wedding rings

pairing: Albedo, Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Thoma, Xiao, Zhongli (separately) x reader

tw: established relationship, pure fluff, mention of Childe’s real name, spoiler for Zhongli’s identity

word count: 2.3k+ words in total

Albedo

The Chief Alchemist is the most creative on this whole list when it comes to your wedding rings. First of all, they are undoubtedly matching, have the most intricate design he put a lot of meaning into and everything from the sketch to the final product was done by his own hands with your preferences and additions kept in mind. Secondly, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t make use of his vast knowledge and alchemy skills.

You have absolutely no idea how he managed to do it, but the man made some sort of connection between the two rings. Since both of you never take it off, even in biting cold both bands remain warm - because the skin of one another keeps it as such and transfers it to the twin ring, creating a constant heat exchange.

But that’s not all! Albedo is truly a genius, because he made metal receptive to the touch. If you rub your ring, your lover will receive a feeling as if you are gliding the tips of your fingers right where his own ring is wrapped and vice versa. This helps a lot when his work requires his presence on Dragonspine for a long period of time. You can exchange small kisses and caresses like this and it is really comforting and gives both of you strength to carry on with your tasks until you meet again.

And believe me, Albedo is aware how special and unique you feel ever since he presented you with such an invention for you two to share. Thus, if one day someone learns of your rings’ secret and comes to him with a request to create the same pair - he’ll refuse no matter how much mora offered. He worked hard to make you happy and every moment he managed is sacred to him.

Ayato

When you and Ayato were getting married there were no rings to exchange. While your wedding was grand and booming, it was simply because the head of one of the Commissions was to be wed. In reality the marriage was one of convenience, a necessary measure which was held according to all traditions with both spouses showing nothing more but reserve.

Of course the head of the Kamisato clan wouldn’t marry the first candidate offered to him, he wisely chose among all the options, and had quite a number of meetings to finally settle on you. From the very beginning the man showed you nothing less than respect, yet you knew you’d have to gain his trust as well.

What you didn’t expect was that after the first years of your wedlock you’d eventually manage to worm your way into Ayato’s heart. You were perfect. You genuinely cared for him, made amazing friends with his younger sister and became support not only for him, but for her as well; you treated everyone and everything wisely and pretty early in marriage he started actively asking for your insight, which, to his content, was mostly great. No wonder you’d spend a lot of time doing the Commission’s work, in the same room no less, which led to small talks, giving you both an opportunity to get to know each other. As time passed talks became longer, then turned to evening walks together and in the end to feeling like a real married couple.

It felt right to show the shift in your relationship somehow, so next time the two of you were on display to the public eye, the whispers ran through the crowd - the Kamisato spouses had matching golden bands wrapped around their ring fingers.

For Ayato these rings are the proof of finding happiness where he abandoned all hopes to find it.

Diluc

The Master of the Dawn Winery and the Darknight Hero would've never been believed to be obsessed with a small thing. Yet he absolutely is.

Whenever you come up to him, or pass by, or even just stand somewhere in the background, talking to the winery staff or your friends, ruby eyes search for your hand and for a beautiful ring wrapped around your finger, matching the one hidden under his glove.

Whenever you are close, just inches away from him, Diluc delicately holds your palm with his and plants a kiss to your knuckle, right above the golden band.

Whenever he is holding your hand, he absentmindedly runs his thumb to feel if the smooth metal is still there, always releasing a breath when he finds it. Smiles warmly as you notice and interlock your fingers.

Whenever the man feels nervous or stressed and you are sitting next to him, he'd pull off a glove, take your hand in his and start playing with your ring, twisting and rolling it on your finger, calming down instantly and concentrating on his work.

Yes, Diluc Ragnvindr is obsessed with your wedding ring, because that's what reminds him of the fact you've chosen him to be by your side out of everyone else.

Childe

This ginger man… I have no words to describe the happiness Ajax felt on your wedding day, when you entered his family in the best way possible. The first fond memory about your rings he has is because of Teucer, who was excited and begged you months before the wedding to let him carry them during the ceremony. Of course you assigned the duty to him and at that moment you honestly weren’t sure if the stars in his eyes were figurative and not real ones.

Hands down your husband never takes his ring off from the moment you slid it on his finger and I mean it. He doesn’t necessarily brag about it to everyone he meets, but people he more or less trusts and that do not pose any threat to his family have their ears bent by his talks of you. He may seem reckless and garrulous, but Childe does have a full understanding of when some words shouldn’t be spoken and some things should stay hidden.

Alone with you or when you stay at his parents’ house for the weekend though? He is a menace to your peace and quiet and becomes almost unbelievably ridiculous. The man uses the shiny thing on his finger to his advantage whenever you hand him the opportunity. Every time you call him a fool for something he's done wrong to annoy you, he gives you the widest grin and points to his ring finger, saying "I am a fool, but I am your fool. Forever", or “Huh, too bad you are STUCK with me till the day we die”. When you have enough and lightheartedly threaten him to take the ring away from him by a divorce, the man clutches his hand to his chest and turns away, trying to hide it as best as he can.

“You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands.”

Surely you don’t want your lover dead and he knows you don’t mean it, so it always ends with some affectionate banter and rings staying there where they belong.

Kaeya

The Cavalry Captain could never hope to find someone to love him, let alone accepting his marriage proposal after years of dating and arriving to the point of sharing a cozy domestic life months prior to him asking for your hand.

He loves you and he is absolutely devoted to you, so the wedding ring is a very important thing to him. Kaeya doesn't take it off unless there is a mission where he would not want to give his enemies the knowledge of him having a family and putting you at risk.

On missions outside the city he is always wearing it under his glove. But if he is in the city simply patrolling? He puts it on a chain and lets the band gleam in the sunlight right between his pecs. Kaeya is aware people stare at his chest a lot, so it's a win-win decision, cutting suitors' attempts in their wake and giving you a peace of mind (not like you really need it, you trust your husband).

Sometimes, when he works in his office, he lets the ring stay on the chain, so he can always reach for it and gently roll it between his fingers. His mind instantly fills with images of you and a content, uncharacteristic smile appears on his lips. His fellow knights have been witnesses to this expression, but, as Lisa loves to note, no one believes them.

Well, the higher-ups do, as there were a couple of times when Kaeya’s mind slipped in a dreamland and Jean had to draw his attention back with a polite coughing, but well, it just proves how much he loves you and how easily he is swayed by the sign of your commitment.

Thoma

So joyful to be your husband. You must be a very understanding person if you decided to accept this hella busy man’s proposal. In return he showers you with his love and affection whenever he has a free moment, even if it’s just stopping by while he is running errands to pass you a home-cooked meal and give you a kiss and preferably a big hug to remind you he is head over heels for you.

Needless to say his wedding ring is incredibly special to him. One quick glance at his hand - and he instantly thinks of you and dreams of the evening when he can hold you in his arms again. More than once was he caught doing this by either other workers of the Kamisato estate or vendors. It isn’t bad, they actually always gently aww at him and comment on how sweet he looks thinking of his loved one. But God forbid it’s Ayato who spots him… With Lady Ayaka it’s perfectly fine, she adores you and your relationship with Thoma to her is nothing but beautiful and dreamlike. Her older brother though doesn’t let any opportunity to tease Thomа go to waste, which always leaves the poor blonde with flaming cheeks and wish to scurry away and back to you.

However, as much as he’d love to have the sign of your commitment worn all the time, he has to take it off whenever he is cleaning around the estate. One time he nearly lost it because the thing slipped off his finger and ever since Thoma has a special little jewelry-box where he puts the ring to keep it safe, as he doesn’t want to risk losing something so essential. If he is inside, he takes the box with him from room to room as he tends to his tasks.

He makes sure to put the ring right back on his finger once he is free of his household duties and especially when he goes to the city.

Xiao

To Xiao human customs are not of a big interest. However you’ve always been curious about people you’ve been protecting for thousands of years. As your lover, the Yaksha is usually the one listening to everything you’ve learnt and found fascinating and while he marks some things as weird and inconvenient, he takes note of the facts you are particularly keen on.

When you tell him about what marriage is and how different it is from the bonding ritual the immortals practice, he only raises a brow. Speaking vows, exchanging pieces of metal (in most cases) and just signing some papers? And that’s it? Xiao huffs, crossing his arms.

You look at him with amusement plastered on your smiling face.

“Well, if that’s not that big of a deal, why don’t we try that then?”

“What?”

Xiao is stunned upon hearing your proposal. Your logic is - the ritual of immortals is the point of no backing off, so you would never force him into it, knowing perfectly well of his fear that the Karmic debt can potentially affect you too if the bond is established. But the wedding done like humans can be used as an alternative.

At first Xiao thinks of that as an unnecessary measure, of your way to tease him. You do not bring it up after that time and he doesn’t even think of it until his visit to Zhongli and his beloved. Throughout his whole stay for some unknown reason he cannot stop staring at their wedding rings. Though the two have been betrothed for thousands of years, not so long before Morax’s retirement they decided to get married the way humans do it too. The staring doesn’t go unnoticed by the former Lord of Geo and he relishes in the quite fresh memory of their wedding day.

By the end of his stay, Xiao is leaving their house with a thought planted in his head. He can’t help but wonder, how pretty your hand would look with a ring similar to his on it.

Zhongli

All those centuries ago you and Morax forged your marriage through a contract. The Lord of Geo knew little of human customs, but he was well-versed in establishing agreements, thus the marriage contract used to be the ultimate demonstration of how sacred your relationship was. The Archon felt the purr threatening to escape from the depths of his chest when you put your signature near his in the presence of adepti as your witnesses. The dragon in him was very pleased, but the possessive side of his wanted to leave a permanent mark on you. When he confessed you only smiled and offered to choose patterns you'd imprint on each others' bodies as a reminder that you belong to each other and he couldn't feel more blessed to have you as his.

The contract still exists and the beautiful matching tattoos are hidden under your clothes, however nowadays there is one more demonstration of your bond is present - beautiful bands wrapped around your ring fingers, created from ore and gems you picked and your husband gave shape to with his own hands.

Actually Zhongli loves these physical manifestations of your wedlock so much that he made the same ring but of a bigger size. Why? So he could wear it on one of the claws of his forepaw whenever he takes his dragon form. The dragon is a majestically looking creature, yet with how proud and pleased he appears there is always a special glow around his enourmous form.

If you chose to do the same and wear a ring while in your animal adeptus form? He'd be ecstatic.

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eyesthecolorofarson · 3 months

Text

Best Man Pt.2

https://www.tumblr.com/eyesthecolorofarson/722299567819882496/dick-didnt-know-what-to-expect-when-he-arrived-at

Jazz watched, bemused, as Danny bounced around the work room. He went from one project of an improved Specter Speeder to a project he and Sam were working on with the mutated fauna in Amity to his newest.

She didn’t know what to think about Damian, but she was thankful the Council would like him. He was obviously raised entirely around aristocratic figures but possibly separated. His wording choice suggested the former and odd accent suggested the latter. She’s always been worried about Danny’s open heart, even more so when she saw his reaction to just seeing Damian.

Thankfully, Damian seemed just as smitten as Danny was. She didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but she understood an alphas immediate attraction to an omega who fit all their preferences and an omegas immediate attraction to the same. Though it is odd how they both fit each other’s preferences.

She would ignore it for Danny. He’s been so excited and happy since their meeting, and even though it’s only been two days he’d already started making the wedding rings. Dad was over the moon when he asked for the blueprints and chemical makeup. Apparently he wasn’t going to make the actual ring part until he knew what Damian would like.

Those thoughts reassured her over-protective mind. She’d thought the attraction was either an aphrodisiac or plain old mind control, but Damian’s reaction to Danny told her that wasn’t the case. She’d been able to overhear a portion of their conversation, and it soothed her to hear Damian getting more and more flustered.

Her protectiveness flared up when she walked in on the kissing, but Danny’s face of absolute horror washed it away. As the best big sister she was she ignored how he now smelled of brown sugar and spice, coffee and caramel. She would only make fun of him for the rest of his existence. Like the best big sister she was.

“Jazz! C’mer, I got it to work!” Danny excitedly waved her over, bobbing in the air. She marked her page and went to the work table. It had a microscope, scale, Bunsen burner, dozens of glass beakers in racks, pipets, magnets and a friability tester. In the middle of everything was a Petri dish with a single green geode.

They were calling it Ectolite, and it seemed to be the Infinite Realms version of fossil fuels. It was created from decaying Blob ghosts or fading emotional remnants. Naturally, anyways. It took a very long time for ghosts to fade and Blobs were no exception.

Artificially they were much easier to make. She thinks. It only took Danny two days after all. “What cut are you going to make it?” She asked as she put on gloves. They didn’t want to contaminate the love it would emit with her own feelings. The love it was supposed to emit if Dannys theory was correct. “I don’t know. The other gem changes shape and texture, but I didn’t check to see if the bottom changes too.”

Danny used a pair of tweezers to pull the shape of the geode into a triangle, then a square, and then a circle. He worried his bottom lip. “I want it to keep this free flowing quality, but I don’t know if actually cutting it will change it. But if it can be manipulated like this,” he stretched it until it looked like a teardrop with a thin tip, “then touching it could ruin the shape I put it in.”

Danny moved aside and let her inspect it more closely. Each side of the geode seemed to be a different texture, one side looking like an earth geode, one looking like bismuth, one appearing to be sea foam, and one seemed to look like a meat hammer. “Have you talked to dad?” She moved the dish to the microscope as Danny groaned.

“I would–and honestly I really wanted to make it with him, but–well, it’s mom again.” She hummed. The geodes cells seemed to be shaped in an infinity symbol, and when she pulled them with the tweezers the cells seemed to go through cellular division to fill the new space, and reabsorb when she moved it back.

“Still angry?” “Worse.” Danny sighed, and she glanced to see him lounge into the air. “She overheard me tell dad about Damian and now she’s pissed that she not only has a half ghost son, but a liminal son-in-law. She’s convinced I’m overshadowing him.”

Talking about mom was always difficult after the reveal. Dad had taken it surprisingly well, explaining that he loved Danny more than he hated ghosts. He even went as far as to say he’d make an effort to learn about ghosts from actual ghosts. Mom on the other hand… “It’s not your fault,” she leaned up from the microscope and took his hand. “Moms always been more eccentric than dad, and we both know she lost it a few years ago with the Pandora situation.”

“We can’t force her to change, and we can’t change ourselves for her. It’s not fair for her or us. The only thing we can do now is try to move on.” Danny sighed and squeezed her hand. “I know, it’s just—I don’t know why, but I blame myself.” “It’s not your fault.” She said again, firmer this time. “It’s not your fault you got hurt, it’s not your fault you hid Phantom, and it’s not your fault she reacted like that. You did the best you could in your situation.”

She was so proud of him. He’d saved the town, the universe and multiverse, he was rebuilding the Infinite Realms and now he was courting someone. It hurt her heart in the best way. He was growing up so fast, and it made her so happy.

“Hey,” she pulled him down until he was back on the ground, “how about you take a break? You can go and see Damian, maybe meet his family, take him on the first date and talk more about the wedding. You can ask him about the ring.” Danny lit up.

“Yeah! That sounds great! Do you wanna come? I think you’ll really like him.” She smiled and shook her head. “I have an appointment with a few ghosts about setting up my firm. Besides, I think I’ll give it a bit more time for our last meeting to wear off.” He blushed and she couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. He laughed and batted her hand away.

“Alright, but you’ll meet him next time, right?” She smiled. “Promise. Now go see your omega.” Danny’s grin was wide enough to show all his sharp teeth. Teeth that were similar to hers. She pulled him into a hug and kissed his head. He squeezed her as if he was scared he would break her.

Jazz watched as he bobbed out of the room, and once he was gone let herself deflate. She pulled out her phone and saw all the texts from her mom. There were at least eighty and they just kept coming. Telling her to call her, to be reasonable, to convince ‘the ghost to let that poor omega go’. Six more came in rapid succession.

Jazz knew she could just block her and get a new phone. It’s what Danny did. But for some reason she just couldn’t. Well, she might know the reason. It was all simple guilting and manipulation, her mom pretending she was the good guy and it was really Danny who was the problem. She was being manipulated subconsciously, and every text she read only made her feel more sorry for her mom.

Her finger hovered over the ‘block’ button. She really, really wanted to press it. But there was a little girl inside her, whispering ‘no! You’ll never see momma again! I miss momma so much, don’t you?’ She sighed, made sure the notifications for that number were off, and picked up her book as she walked out. She had ghosts to help move on.

Danny fixed his shirt again. And then he adjusted his pants, which messed with his shirt. Should he wear his cape? He really liked his cape, but would it be too much? Oh! He had a space blazer that Nocturne got him! He could wear that with a—well, would a button up with the blazer be too formal? He should choose a different shirt. And black or white? Black, black was good. He ran his hand through his hair in the mirror before taking a breath and choosing the turtle neck.

He pulled his hair into a pony tail, fixed his belt, adjusted his blazer, the turtleneck, and then put on his shoes and grabbed his second courting gift. It was a circlet crown with a silver chain. The front had a small, teardrop gem and the sides had three larger ones inside flowers with dangling gems. He’d found it after he’d raided the treasury for anything he’d think Damian would like, and even imagining him in it was making Danny blush.

He wrapped it in green velvet cloth, then put it in a black box and wrapped it with a green ribbon, both of which he’d, uh, liberated from a jewelry store. He couldn’t ask his servants for one because they’d take that information to the break room, those gossips.

Wait. Where would he even meet Damian? At his house? He didn’t know where he lived. Well, he kind of did, but would him showing up unexpectedly be rude or creepy? He didn’t have a way to contact him. But he really, really wanted to see him. Should he just use the Ring of Rage? He’d use the Ring. “Ring of Rage, take me outside of Wayne Manor Dimension 45Q-X.” The Ring glowed bright and a red portal opened in front of him. When he stepped through he was in Gotham City.

Wayne Manor looked like every other manor he’d seen, just more Victorian Gothic with gargoyles and cobblestone walls. He fazed through the gate and took a deep breath. Walking up the steps felt similar to walking to fight Pariah Dark. He rang the doorbell, and adjusted his hair over his shoulder before the door opened.

The man who opened the door seemed to be a butler, rather old but like Damian–and everyone else in Gotham–smelled like death. He smiled, and hoped he wouldn’t be freaked out by his teeth. “Hello! My name is Daniel Phantom, but you could call Danny! Would you know if Damian is available, and if he is could I perhaps talk to him?” The man studied him for a second, then smiled and opened the door wider.

“Ah yes, King Phantom, an honor to meet you your highness. Damian has not stopped talking about you since your meeting. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the primary caretaker of Wayne Manor and it’s residents.” Danny stepped inside and held out his hand. “Please, Mr.Pennyworth, the honors all mine! Damian spoke about you quite highly. You don’t have to call me your highness or king or any of that royal decree.”

Alfred took his hand and shook it, and his smile made him feel a bit better. “Thank you, Master Daniel. If you will follow me, I believe Master Damian is currently in the dining room with his siblings and father.” Oh god, siblings and father? “Pardon me, Mr.Pennyworth,” his smile strained a little, “but—how many of Damian’s siblings are here?” Alfred seemed to notice his slight distress, and it made him smile a bit wider.

“Five of Master Damian’s siblings are present today, as well as close family friend Barbara Gordon, a rare occurrence you are lucky to see.” Oh. Ok. So, six of Gothams Greatest Detectives and The Batman are here. Oh god he hoped he didn’t do anything stupid. But knowing him he’d fall and break his nose the moment he walked in. He really had to stop thinking like this. He just—oh, for the love of Ancients, he was a king! He could handle meeting his future father, brother and sister-in-laws. He could do this! For Damian!

Alfred opened a door for him, and he said a small ‘thank you’ and tried not to wince under all the eyes now on him. It looked like a large dinning room with a long rectangular table filled with various foods. What time was it? Oh he hoped he didn’t interrupt breakfast. All the chairs were filled and they were staring at him with various emotions on his face.

But his eyes landed on Damian, and suddenly none of it mattered. Damian’s face lit up, and he launched himself out of his chair with a joyful shout of his name and into his arms. The force made him raise a few inches into the air, and he couldn’t help but laugh and pull Damian closer.

He still smelled like him. It was as if he’d added his scent into his own, and Danny wanted nothing more than to lean into his neck and leave a mark. But the voices in front of him reminded him there were others here, so he had to–literally–come back to earth and address the situation.

Jazz and Clockwork would be so proud of him.

When he lowered Damian had wrapped his arms around his neck and touched their heads together. “Oh Daniel,” he cooed, and his voice drove him a bit crazy, “What a wonderful surprise! I’ve missed you so.” He couldn’t help but laugh and nuzzle his nose, inhaling more of his scent. “It’s been but two days and I already have a piece of my soul dedicated to you. You’ve captured my mind in a state of worship that continues even in your absence.”

Damian’s face flushed and his smile grew and Danny wanted to kiss him. He held himself back. “Oh. My. God. Daniel!” Another voice said, and Damian pulled back and Danny moved to his side, wrapping and arm around his waist as Damian wrapped an arm around his as someone approached. The man in front of him had light brown skin and slightly long black hair and blue eyes.

He raced through his Gotham knowledge and held out his hand, smiling. “Richard Grayson! Though, you go by Dick, correct? Damian’s told me about you!” Richard’s, or Dick, smile widened and he shook his hand enthusiastically. “Dick, please. It’s nice to meet you, Daniel! Damian has told me so, so much about you.” Oh, that was good! From Damian’s blush and slightly embarrassed scent that was really good!

He let his smile become more relaxed, and Damian led him to a chair next to his that Alfred had somehow gotten in the short time they’d talked. “Thank you,” he said to the butler, pulled out Damian’s chair for him since Pandora would kill him otherwise, and sat when he did. Him sitting seemed to wake the rest of the table.

“So.” Bruce Wayne said, and Danny was reminded he was Batman. “I haven’t heard as much about you as Dick has. Tell me, who are you? You seemed to be a meta, correct?” That first part felt like it wasn’t really for him, but he wasn’t going to be intimidated–even though he definitely was. It also felt like bit of a lie since Alfred knew who he was, but he would answer honestly.

He straightened his shoulders, held his head high and looked Bruce in the eyes. All while trying to appear non-hostile. “My name is Daniel Phantom. I am the High King of The Infinite Realms, The Afterlife Dimension. I act as the King of the dead and underworlds as well as their gods. And, if you shall allow, I want nothing more than to make Damian my Queen.”

There was a pause and he couldn’t help but notice the uptick of caramel in Damian’s scent. He liked it. Dick looked very happy, and the others looked either confused, worried, or–in who he thought was Stephane Brown and Cassandra Cains case–absolutely overjoyed.

Bruce didn’t let anything show, but he glanced to Cassandra. She met his eyes and nodded enthusiastically, softly clapping her hands and giggling with Stephane. He hoped that was good. It felt good. Bruce didn’t seem to think it was good.

“King of the Afterlife?” Another asked, and he definite knew who he was. Jason Todd. “Does that mean your dead?” He could feel Bruce trying to burn a hole into his head. “I’m actually an odd case. I’m what ghosts call a Halfa, which means genetically I’m half ghost. It’s rather odd, so the simplest way I could explain it is that I act as the line between life and death, but I’m capable of moving it. Sometimes more dead, sometimes more alive, but always a bit of both.”

He hummed and leaned back, and Timothy Drake leaned forward. “How does that work? You said genetically, but how are you moving, ruling a kingdom if you always have one foot out the door?” Damian’s spice turned a little hot, but not in a good way the way it did when they were kissing. He rubbed his thumb in circles on his hips, and it lessened the scent.

“Let us not hound my future mate,” Damian scolded, and his face flushed. “Daniel, you must’ve came here for a reason, yes?” Damian leaned a little out of his chair, and Danny did too. “That I did!” He pulled the box out of his blazer and presented it to him, “I wanted to see if you’d like to go on our first romantic outing, as well as give you another gift. It will connect to the crown you choose, as well as your veil if you’d like to wear one.”

Someone choked, and he heard the girls and Dick ‘aww’ as Damian blushed. Caramel and brown sugar wrapped around in, and he let his own scent do the same. Together, they smelled like a cup of coffee in a thunderstorm, a warm hug in autumn, the kitchen during the holidays. Damian took the box and gently undid the ribbon, smoothly wrapping it around his wrist before opening the box. He gasped, and Danny remembered he didn’t check where the gems were from.

Under the normal light they looked very out of this world. They seemed to look like heat waves, or the lines you’d see on an old box TV. Damian tilted the back center gem back and forth, and the color changed, the middle of it seemed to split into an eye—oh. Oh! He knew what they were! Oh thank the ancients, this was the best mistake he could’ve made!

Damian leaned back quickly as the waves came off the gem in a smooth streak, similar to his tail when he flew. It circled his shoulders and then expanded, solidifying into a white cat with four tails. Its eyes were a vibrant purple, and it didn’t seem to have fur but its skin was sleek and metallic. Like an Egyptian cat but without the wrinkles. It meowed and made some clicking sounds, sniffing Damian’s cheek before relaxing on his shoulders. Its mouth was filled with sharp teeth and a black tongue.

Someone muttered ‘oh my god’ and the giggling and ‘aww’ing increased. All good things. Damian’s eyes were wide as he traced a finger along the cats back, and it liked it if it’s purring was anything to go by. “This is a cat from Dimension AB12-00! Because of this Dimensions number everything in it is usually numbered in some way. This cat was the fourth born in its litter, as you can tell from the tail. They like to hide in shiny things. I believe it’s siblings are in the other three gems, though they’ve been incredibly shy so I don’t truly know.”

That was a bit of a lie, he could sense them a little bit, but that just made everything better! Damian looked overjoyed, cooing over the cat as it crawled into his lap and sniffed around. “Oh, she’s beautiful, what is her name?” “You can choose. They do not have one.” He let her sniff his fingers, and chucked lightly as she affectionately bit them. “I found them in the treasury, and as far as I know they’ve been in there for about twenty thousand years. At this point they’re AB12-00’s version of a Saber Tooth Tiger.”

The other cats were coming out. The one in the left kept coming out then going back in, and the one in the front teardrop bounced out and onto Damian’s lap. This one had only one tail, and it meowed and pawed Damian’s chest for attention. He laughed and scratched it behind the ear. As he did he leaned forward, put his hand around Danny’s neck and pulled him forward to kiss him. Danny blinked for a moment before kissing back.

It was just as wonderful as last time. The whole world seemed to shrink until they were the only thing that existed, as if they’d become one. But he didn’t get to enjoy it like he wanted because someone loudly cleared their throat. Damian pulled away quickly, his scent embarrassed and his face bright red. It was cute. He glanced to the table and had to stop himself from shrinking.

That was definitely Batman glaring at him. He had this odd shadow over his face, and it actually looked like a mask. “Wow,” Tim teased, “didn’t know you knew how to do that!” They all laughed as Damian’s face became redder, and he couldn’t help but give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m very glad you like it. I know you’ll be a wonderful owner for them.” Damian huffed, but his scent showed he was very happy.

The two cats seemed very tired, probably because they’d been in the gem for so long they weren’t used to this much movement. Damian was sad to see them go, so Danny proposed that they set up a schedule to get the cats used to being outside the gem. “Where would you like to go for our outing? You can choose any time, any place, and I will find it for you. I have access to it all.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Where would you like to go? I wish to learn more about your interests as you have for mine.” Oh that was sweet. He could take him anywhere in the multiverse he wanted, and Damian wanted to know more about him. He felt his face heat up, and took Damian’s hand. “Well, I love space! If you'd like, I could take you to my favorite planets in this dimension. There’s a planet a few galaxies away called Elma, and it’s inhabited completely by crystals!”

Danny rambled about Elma, detailing the crystal coral reefs and the glass islands and the crystallized sulfur and ozone in the atmosphere that protected the planet from invaders and painted the surface in sun catching rays. He waved his hands around and used ice to create the cris-cross pattern they froze in and the colored crystalline that made constellations that could only be seen on this planet.

“Ah! I apologize!” He said sheepishly, fiddling with his hair, “I did not mean to take over the conversation. But I could tell you more on Elma, if you’d like. I could take you to the Riverbend Festival!” Damian’s scent was so sweet and sugary, and he wanted to drown in it. “Do not apologize! You are so passionate, Daniel, the way your eyes shine as you detail the things you love is divine! I would love to see the festival! Is there anything I should wear for the weather, the activities and the like?”

They would be walking a lot, it would be chilly but not too cold, and something smooth he could give a crystallized texture to help them blend in since off-planet outsiders were basically impossible. Damian nodded, gave him a small kiss which almost made him explode, and stood and rushed off. On instinct Danny stood as well, and was left there with his future mates family.

“Damian, wait! Lemme help!” Stephane called, and her and Cassandra rushed off after him. Ok, that was two less interrogators. He must’ve looked a little nervous because Dick smiled and said, “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” Danny laughed with him, and tried not to look at Bruce. “Your taking him off planet? Into another galaxy? What’s the point of that? You could take him anywhere on Earth.”

Dicks smile tightened, and Jason not-so-subtlety kicked Bruce. “I, for one, approve. I sorta want to threaten you, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t work on you.” Danny laughed. “Yes, I don’t tend to get actually scared anymore. One of my Council members is the personification of fear, and after looking him in the eye multiple times a day nothing fazes me.”

“And to answer Bruce’s questions, I want to show Damian the reaches his rule will go if he becomes my queen. Death goes far beyond this Dimension, and I pride myself on being able to at least slightly connect with every world and culture I come into contact with. I don’t mind if Damian does not wish to do that, but I want to see if he can. I believe he can.”

Bruce didn’t look any happier. If anything he seemed to be pouting now, and his scent was sour and unpleasant. Tim also had an odd sort of look on his face. “How do you plan to get onto Emla if you know nothing can enter the atmosphere?” Bruce raised up—“By teleportation. I can turn intangible as well.” — and sunk back into his chair. Jason snorted. “I’d like to get to know you more!” Barbara said suddenly. She’d been silent the whole time, watching him, and he’d honestly forgotten she was there.

“There’s going to be a Gala on the twenty-third, two weeks from today, to announce Jason and his mates child. Knowing how forward Damian is and how forward you seem to be, I’d assume by that time you’ll be sure that your going to become mates, correct?” Danny shook off his shock and nodded. “Yes, I’m already sure. But by that time we’ll have the wedding planned out, I’d hope.” Her smile grew. “Then would you like to come as Damian’s future mate? I think he’d love to flaunt you to everyone.”

“That I would.” At Damian’s voice he turned, and—

Wow.

Holy shit. Oh my ancients he’s so beautiful. He’s perfect. He’s never seen someone so stunning. Damian was wearing a dark green button up with black dress pants and shoes, with the circlet crown. It fit him perfectly. It was all tight and form fitting, and it seemed like his scent was a thousand times stronger and sweeter.

His mouth gaped like a fishes for a moment, and it made him realize Damian had come right up to him. He closed his mouth with a snap, reattached his tongue, and regained his senses. “I’ve never seen anyone or thing as mesmerizing as you.” He smoothly took Damian’s hand and kissed it. Damian’s face was a nice red, and he heard the girls giggling. Damian was wearing the ring. It made him purr louder.

Wait, purr? Oh FUCK he was purring. He quickly tried to stop but it didn’t work. It only made it stutter, and he cleared his throat. “Ah….Apologies.” He laughed awkwardly, and subtly tried to hit his chest. It didn’t work. Thankfully, for some reason, Damian looked as if he was in love. “I was unaware you could make sounds such as this,” Damian came closer, almost chest to chest, and tilted his head back to expose some of his neck.

“It’s attractive.” His braid short circuited. He swallowed, tracing the curve of Damian’s collarbone with his eyes. He imagined kissing along his shoulder, tracing his fingers down his spine, and biting—he bit his tongue off again. A growl had been building in his throat, but he knew Bruce would take it as a threat.

He cleared his throat. Damian looked very pleased with his reaction, and he leaned closer, inviting him to leave a mark. He really, really wanted to. But Bruce’s scent was getting more and more hostile, so he held himself back. “Ha…thank you, my love. Are you ready?” Damian bid everyone goodbye, and Danny used the Ring of Rage to open a portal to Elma.

“Oh my gooooooddd!!!” Dick cheered, grabbing Jason and rocking him back and forth. “I told you!! I told you!! Oh my god he’s even perfecter than I thought!!” Jason laughed and Bruce huffed. Tim laughed and the room was quickly filled with excited chatter and laughter.

“You should’ve seen him!” Steph squealed, “He was so nervous and exited and he smiled at me! He smiled and hugged me and said thank you so much!!” Cass giggled and clapped her hands, “Very happy! Very good! Hopeful!” “King of the goddammed afterlife man,” Jason chuckled “how the hell’d he do that?”

“You’re just jealous,” Tim poured himself more coffee but quickly stopped when Dick pulled him into a hug. “Anyone would be!” Jason retorted as he was also pulled into the hug. “This went awesomely!” Dick laughed, “Barbara, good job remembering the Gala! Oh I hope he brings his sister next time. Maybe we can meet his parents too!”

Alfred came around and took the chair Daniel had been seated in. “I look forward to seeing them dance.” He smiled at his grandchildren, and accepted Cass’s hug. Bruce made a ‘hmf’ noise, and Jason rolled his eyes. “Geez old man, what’s the problem now? Too touchy for your taste?” Barbara snorted. “He probably wasn’t respectful enough,” They both laughed as Bruce’s sulking increased.

“I just think it’s suspicious is all,” they groaned, “No, no, listen; what are the chances the king of the afterlife wants to marry the prince of the League of Assassins after their first meeting? What if he wants access to the Lazarus Pits?” Barbara rolled her eyes. “Why would the king of the dead want to bring people back to life? He’d be losing citizens.”

“He could be angry about that!” Jason sighed and banged his head on the table. “Maybe he’s only pretending to court Damian, as revenge! Regardless we need to be careful, we don’t know what he’s capable of.” Jason tried to hit his head again but was stopped by Dick. “Your just upset Damian’s getting courted. Relax, if this was for revenge why would he give Damian four cats?”

Barbara snorted, “Four saber tooth tigers!” And they laughed. Bruce huffed again. “Oh, and that second gift? It’ll attach to his veil or crown??” Steph fell into her chair with a dreamy sigh. “Did I tell you guys the ring was his mom’s wedding ring? It isn’t just an otherworldly ring?” The whole room seemed to gasp. “Master Dick!” Alfred scolded playfully, “That is not a detail you keep to yourself! What do you think of that, Master Bruce?” The room laughed. Bruce huffed sulkier.

“We still need to be careful.” “And we will.” Cass said firmly. “But. We will not deny him this happiness. He’s very hopeful. Very happy.” Tim chuckled as he took a sip of his coffee. “More than happy, I’d say. He kissed him in front of us! And the first thing Daniel said? ‘I have a piece of my souls dedicated to you’? Whoo!” He fanned himself, and the table laughed. “You could see it in the way he looked at him! That man, this literal king, looked like a lovesick puppy!”

“Imagine their wedding,” Jason continued dramatically, “not just a royal wedding but a union of the living and dead. Imagine the scandal, the scene!” Alfred patted Jason’s shoulder. “This is not one of our books, by boy. But,” he went on as the table laughed again, “I believe he would find it most helpful if we only assisted in the wedding when asked to, no?” There was a murmur of agreement, and Bruce once again huffed. Alfred gave him a look, and finally he conceded, “Alright, I’ll allow it. But we still need to be careful.” Immediately the table launched into discussion, and Bruce was forced to listen to the excitement of his youngest sons wedding.

#Jason internally: frothing at the mouth over the fact that Damian gets to live a YA romance novel style romance #Everyone talking with Danny and liking him more and more and already seeing the good he’ll do for Damian:#Bruce sitting there with his arms crossed: kissing is yucky #As someone else said; Bruce having beef with Danny no matter what is hilarious #dead serious #damian wayne x danny fenton #ghost king danny #infinite realms #royalty au #a/b/o au

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shadowtriovibes · 11 months

Text

before the origin of love

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Blood, Major Hogwarts Legacy Spoilers, Canon Divergence, Ancient Magic Theory

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "You know the part during the game when MC visits Ollivander's alone and Rookwood Apparates her away? Can I request an angsty version of this where Sebastian is with f!MC? Rookwood is angry they killed all his men and casts Imperio on Sebastian to force him to attack her. Even though she’s expecting to die by Sebastian’s hand, he eventually fights the curse off because love is more powerful than dark magic."

a.k.a. y'all thought lily potter was the only one with ancient love magic? think again!!!

“Show your face, Rookwood!” you shout into the darkness. “Come out and fight me!” “My dear, why should I fight you?” Rookwood laughs from high above you, still unseen. “This is child’s play, after all…” You feel like time stops as you see a bright green curse rocket through the air toward Sebastian, who is powerless to do anything to stop it. The curse hits him in the chest with such force that he’s knocked backward, his head tipping forward as he lets out a sickening groan. But instead of watching your friend die while you stood by helplessly, you watch in abject horror as he tilts his head up and locks eyes with you – smoky-green, soulless eyes.

The moment you and Sebastian step outside Ollivander’s shop, you realize that the typically bustling streets of Hogsmeade are disquietingly empty. It’s nearly sundown now, and instead of seeing a friendly mix of witches and wizards doing their holiday shopping or stocking up on supplies for the winter months, you find yourselves all alone.

“Take out your wand,” you murmur to Sebastian. “Something’s not right.”

Wordlessly Sebastian draws his wand and takes a step closer to you, warily glancing up and down the empty streets.

Then in the blink of an eye, a well-dressed figure Apparates into view just across the way – Victor Rookwood, you realize, complete with that infuriating hat of his.

“Rookwood,” Sebastian boldly calls out. “So we meet again. Didn’t you get enough of a telling-off last time?”

You silently aim your wand at him, daring him to take one step closer.

“Well, well… looks like your friend Sirona isn’t here to stick up for you little menaces this time,” Rookwood says with a sneer. “I’m afraid you two are on your own. In fact, I’ve ensured that we have a moment to ourselves.”

Sebastian quickly lifts his wand and aims it squarely at the man’s face. “What do you want, Rookwood?”

“Oh, come, come, no need for such theatrics,” the man drawls, slowly creeping closer to you both. “In light of what Ranrok now knows, you must agree that our interests are aligned.”

Sparks crackle at the tip of your wand as you lift it toward Rookwood.

“Our interests will never be aligned,” you murmur.

Rookwood glances significantly at Sebastian before he challenges you.

“My dear, you would let goblins take what is rightfully ours? The final repository belongs to wizardkind. We would be fools not to work together.”

Beside you, you observe the slightest falter in Sebastian’s aim. You should have known that someone like Rookwood would immediately be able to pinpoint and exploit his biggest weakness – his resentment toward goblinkind, his uncompromising belief that only they carry the blame for his sister’s curse.

You imagine him thinking, Could he be right? Are we fools to allow Ranrok’s goblins to continue ransacking Isadora’s Repositories? Could we instead be using them to cure Anne?

But before Sebastian says a word, Rookwood’s eyes land on the long, thin box in your hands.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” he demands.

Quickly, you slip the box safely inside your robes. You shake your head only slightly, but Rookwood easily detects its significance.

Rookwood continues, “Might this sudden visit to the wandmaker have something to do with our… mutual pursuit?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say softly.

Suddenly, you see Rookwood’s countenance shift as his true motives become clear.

“That repository is my birthright!” he shouts, stepping toward you with a hand outstretched.

Instantly Sebastian steps in front of you and points his wand at Rookwood once more. “I know one thing for certain, and that’s that Charles Rookwood wouldn’t have wanted you anywhere near it!”

Rookwood laughs darkly as he takes a step back.

“The arrogance,” he murmurs, gaze fixed on Sebastian’s determined expression. “I should have known better than to try to reason with a Sallow, after all – you’re no better than your sister, you simpering fool.”

In a frighteningly low voice, Sebastian asks, “What would you know about my sister?”

“Nothing, of course,” Rookwood sneers. “I only meant that I’ve always thought that children should be seen and not heard.”

You inhale sharply, absently lowering your wand as you process Rookwood’s words – the very same that Sebastian had told you were the last words Anne had heard before she was hit with her curse.

Sebastian understands the implication a split second before you do, and you can see bolts of green light shooting down the length of his wand before you even understand what he’s doing.

“Avada–”

Before he can finish his spell, you feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you’re hurtling through time and space as you’re forcibly Apparated away from Hogsmeade, landing in a crumpled heap in the snowy grass. You’re smack in the middle of a desolate bandit camp somewhere in the Highlands.

Beside you, Sebastian is catching his breath while his hands tremble with rage.

“Where did he go?” Sebastian demands. “Where did the bloody coward go?!”

“Careful, Sallow,” Rookwood’s voice calls out from the darkness. “Wouldn’t want to get yourself into a bind!”

Sebastian suddenly shouts as thick lengths of rope appear out of thin air and wrap themselves around his body, forcing him to his knees.

“Sebastian!” you yell. “Finite!”

Your spell deflects right off the enchanted ropes, and Sebastian grits his teeth.

“I’m okay,” he insists. “It’ll be alright, just – just get him, you can do this.”

Desperate, you find yourself alone while Sebastian struggles against his ropes. You’re keenly aware of the dozen or so fully-grown wizards Apparting into the camp with their wands drawn. You’ll have to take on every single one of them by yourself, you realize, with nothing but your own wand and the ancient magic coursing through your veins to defend yourself.

It feels endless. Simply deflecting their spells takes nearly all of your focus, even if you try to spare some for Sebastian while he struggles uselessly against his bindings. You toss curse after curse at Rookwood’s men and eventually you’re forced to start tossing actual barrels and crates at them as well, until finally you pare down the lot of them to the last executioner with his wand trained squarely at your heart.

“Bomarba!” you holler, and across the field, the burly executioner goes flying into a pile of rubble and melts away into smoke, the last to abandon his mission and surrender.

“Show your face, Rookwood!” you shout into the darkness. “Come out and fight me!”

“My dear, why should I fight you?” Rookwood laughs from high above you, still unseen. “This is child’s play, after all…”

You feel like time stops as you see a bright green curse rocket through the air toward Sebastian, who is powerless to do anything to stop it. The curse hits him in the chest with such force that he’s knocked backward, his head tipping forward as he lets out a sickening groan. But instead of watching your friend die while you stood by helplessly, you watch in abject horror as he tilts his head up and locks eyes with you – smoky-green, soulless eyes.

Imperio.

“So go on, then,” Rockwood demands. “Play!”

The ropes that had bound Sebastian’s arms to his side quickly fall away, and before you can even react he lifts his wand and rounds on you.

“Confringo!” he shouts, and a blaze of fire soars just past your ear.

“Sebastian,” you call out. “Can you hear me? Don’t do this, please!”

You know it’s fruitless. Sebastian himself had taught you that the Imperius curse cannot be fought off, even by the most powerful wizards who have ever been trained to resist its impenetrable influence. Despite his dueling skills and his broad knowledge of the Dark Arts, you have to assume that Sebastian doesn’t stand a chance against Rookwood’s voice in his ear.

“Levioso!” you counter, hoping to merely hold him off long enough to get to Rookwood and force him to free Sebastian.

But to your chagrin, the Sebastian you’ve known and loved since your first days at Hogwarts is indeed one of the most disciplined and talented duelers you’ve ever fought, and even though he doesn’t want to, he’ll surely give you a run for your money.

“Diffindo!” he growls, and the edge of his curse just barely nicks the side of your calf. You cry out in pain and collapse to the ground as you press a hand to the bleeding wound.

“Want me to release your little friend?” Rookwood calls out. “It’s simple, darling. Join me against Ranrok and I’ll let him live!”

You know deep down that you can’t ally yourself with Rookwood. Despite Sebastian’s initial hesitance, you have to imagine that if he were able to understand your position, he’d do the very same thing that you’re about to do.

It wasn’t the goblins after all, it was him, you can hear him say. We can never join him, not after what he did to Anne. There’s only one way out of this.

Merlin, you think. This is it.

Without your ability to wield ancient magic or the wand made of the Pensieve artifacts, Ranrok may never gain access to the final repository, you convince yourself – especially if he splinters from Rookwood. Sebastian can give the wand to Fig after you’re gone, he can hide it somewhere Ranrok will never find it…

It could all work out, you reckon, if you die.

“Never!” you call out to Rookwood. “I’ll never join you!”

“Then you’ve made your choice,” Rookwood’s voice echoes back. “I’ll let the Sallow boy show you what happens to anyone who says no to me.”

Rockwood’s twisted laughter rings out all around you as Sebastian’s opalescent eyes look you up and down. He lifts his wand and aims it at your heart, and you close your eyes with your own wand at your side.

“Avada Kedavra!”

…

…You’re still breathing.

How are you still breathing?

When you open your eyes, Sebastian is standing before you looking entirely drained, his eyelids drooping as he sways from pure exhaustion. However, just before he collapses you catch a glimpse of his eyes – his usual warm brown ones, the same magnificent eyes you’ll never tire of seeing after all this.

“Sebastian!” you shout, running over to support him as he tumbles to the ground. “Wh-what just happened?”

“Did I get him?” he asks in a whisper. “Rookwood?”

Stunned, you cast Lumos and peer across the empty field until you notice a figure lying in the snow far at the other end – Rockwood, you assume. He isn’t moving, and his legs are bent in a sick, absurd way as if he’d fallen from the watchtower that he now lays below.

“Yes,” you breathe. “You did, b-but… Sebastian, how did you–”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. He’s clinging to your arm as you help him to sit up and rest his head between his knees. “I have no idea, I just… I couldn’t do it.”

“He wanted you to kill me,” you surmise.

“I wouldn’t,” he says hollowly. “It… felt like my head was being split open right down the middle, with one half of me forcing my body to move and aim my wand and the other half knowing that I’d rather die than use that curse on you.”

“Oh, Seb,” you whisper.

You’re both quiet for several long moments while Sebastian takes deep breaths, his face still hidden between his knees. You slowly rub his back through his cloak and wait for him to sit up. He looks haunted when he finally does – even more so than he usually looks.

“I hurt you,” he mumbles. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, love,” you say softly, the pet name slipping out so easily that you barely even register at first. “I’m okay, it’s just a cut. Some Wiggenweld will fix me right up when we get back to the castle.”

“Can I?” he asks hesitantly, and you reluctantly let him pull your cloak to the slide so he can see the gash on your calf.

It isn’t deep, and it isn’t even bleeding anymore, but the ripped trouser leg and drying blood stains make Sebastian curse under his breath nonetheless.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers. “Why did I do that?”

“You have no choice,” you remind him desperately. “No witch or wizard has ever fought off the Imperius curse like that before, Sebastian, and you spared me my life. I don’t care about a bloody cut when I should be dead.”

“Never,” he chants mindlessly. “Never, I wouldn’t.”

That’s when a thought occurs to you.

“Sebastian…” you say softly. “It’s possible that there are… other types of ancient magic in addition to mine.”

He frowns. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe there’s something… something primeval, something elemental to our magic that you accessed,” you wonder aloud. “Professor Fig told me that his wife Miriam had spent years studying ancient magic, and it can’t only be that which I have the power to wield. Perhaps you were able to defy Rookwood’s will because you – you connected with a magic that’s more powerful than even an Unforgivable.”

“More powerful than that kind of darkness?” he asks softly. “...That type of magic exists?”

“Of course, it must,” you say simply. “Darkness can’t be more powerful than light, can it?”

He considers your supposition as if it’s the first time the thought has ever occurred to him.

“So… so what, the power of ‘friendship,’ something like that?” he asks, a corner of his mouth quirking up into the first thing resembling a smile that he’s shown since you entered Hogsmeade hours ago.

“Something like that,” you tease him. “Maybe the power of ‘love.’”

You’d meant it entirely in a platonic way, but as soon as the words are out of your mouth, Sebastian goes red and ducks his face.

“That’s – that’s ridiculous,” he mumbles. “I mean, love, that’s… Who said anything about love?”

You’re quiet while you watch Sebastian try and fail to gather his thoughts. He’s flailing, and all of a sudden you realize something clear as day that you can’t quite believe you never recognized before.

“Sebastian,” you murmur. “...Do you suppose you broke through an Imperius curse because you’re in love with me?”

“Wh-what?!” he laughs.

“Because if you did, that would be probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, in all the books I’ve ever read,” you continue. “And if that were the case, I would have to tell you that I’m madly in love with you, too.”

Sebastian is stunned into silence.

“You love me?” he eventually whispers.

“I do,” you tell him. “And… and I never really thought about it before, because it doesn’t really feel all that different from being friends with you, except – except I would have let you kill me rather than kill you, even though I know what’s at stake.”

“I still think you should’ve,” Sebastian jokes quietly. “You’re much more important than I am.”

“Regardless, we couldn’t have let Rookwood find out about the last Repository, and I would have taken the Killing Curse to stop him,” you sigh. “I trusted you would have taken the Pensieve wand back to Fig.”

“I would’ve turned my wand on myself first,” Sebastian says plainly. “Without a second thought.”

Merlin, you can’t believe he actually says things like that.

Rather than continuing to dwell on what could have been, you offer him a hand up and support him by the elbow while he shakily makes his way to his feet. He still looks pale and rattled, but he’s able to start to walk toward the exit of the crumbling ruins – still clinging to your hand.

“Come on,” you murmur. “When we get back to the castle you can rest.”

“What about the Repository?” he asks weakly.

“Let me and Fig worry about that,” you murmur. “You’ve already done more than enough for me today, love. You need to recover.”

“M’not even hurt,” he protests, but he sounds utterly depleted.

“Hush,” you whisper. “Just keep holding onto me, alright?”

It’s not easy getting Sebastian back to the castle; he keeps pitching to the side on the back of your broom as he fights to stay conscious, but you manage to keep him from falling off. Despite his protests, you take him straight to Nurse Blainey so he can get some proper rest (and so someone will be forced to keep an eye on him for you).

“Be safe,” he murmurs while you squeeze his hand in his infirmary bed. “Please.”

“I promise, Seb,” you tell him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Just be here waiting for me when I get back.”

“You’ve made sure of that,” he grumbles, but he offers you an encouraging smile before you leave for the Map Room one final time.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #victor rookwood #ANON I AM SO SORRY THIS IS MY OLDEST REQUEST I FINALLY DID IT #YOU ARE A REAL ONE IF YOU READ THIS #title is a reference to 'the origin of love' from hedwig and the angry inch

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