#and they have both made comments about how much they enjoy supporting their friends (within and outside of the context of id-ing as bards) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stylesispunk · 5 months

Text

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 11

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

Series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (8 years), bee is the reader's nickname, angst, fluff, mentions of blood, not proofreading.

a/n: Chapter 11 is here! This one is 7k, so please give it love.Next chapter will be the last one so get ready for it. Thanks a lot for your comments and support, Reblogs and comments are appreciated. <3

masterlist

You knew this moment was going to arrive, but it didn’t make you feel less excited. In fact, this was finding out what your baby was going to be made you heart clenched in love.

Joel had started to rub your tommy with a scent oil he bought thinking about you, enjoying the feeling of your now popped belly under the touch of their fingertips. He knew that showering you in love what something you needed, not only because he wanted to show you the feeling, but because the only thought of the baby growing inside of you filled him with so much joy and happiness. He had to let you and this baby how much he loved you.

So, when he listened to the doctor asking you both if you wanted to know the baby’s gender, he beamed at you, mouth wide open waiting for your answer.

“Congratulations,” your doctor said, as she looked at the scan device “It’s a boy”

It’s a boy, said the voice in his head. I’m having a baby boy with my bee.

He saw you moving your mouth, saying something to him, but all he hears was a ringing noise, while the possibilities of name you had yet to discuss bounced inside his head. He was going to have a baby boy and it took him some more seconds to come back down from his own nine cloud.

“Rowan” Joel said, a wide smile on his face

“What?” you asked, tears streaming from your eyes thought you were laughing.

“We can call him Rowan” he spoke “because of the rowan tree”

You beamed at him, “I love it” you laughed as you reached for his face, savoring the warmth of his skin under your touch. You wiped the tears falling down his checks, comforting him.

“I love you” he spoke, kissing your hand “And I love you baby Rowan” he said to your bump.

As the weeks went by, the sense of anticipation grew within you. The news had brough a different kind of glow to you and you seemed happier than ever, and how couldn’t you? Ever since you found the gender of the baby everyone seemed to be delighted by it. From Sarah to your friends to your families, all the were eager to contribute to the joyous atmosphere, sharing in the excitement of welcoming baby Rowan.

Lily, with her creativity was the you were familiar with, took charge of organizing a small baby shower for you.

“Don’t you think is too early for this?” you asked through you laughing.

“You are almost 5 months now. Of course, I’m celebrating you and my great son”

“Who told you are going to be his grandmother?” Joel’s voice asked in a playful tone, interrupting your conversation with Lily.

“Ugh. I’m sorry baby bee “Lily leaned down and whispered to your belly “Your daddy is a bully”

“Don’t say bad things about me to my son”

You chuckled at the playful banter between Joel and Lily. The baby shower, although smaller in scale, was a heartfelt celebration filled with love and laughter. The flower shop was adorned with delicate blue decorations, and a sweet aroma of fresh flowers wafted through the air.

Close friends and family gathered to share in the joy of welcoming baby Rowan. Sarah, who had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of her baby brother, was buzzing with excitement. She proudly helped Lily arrange the flowers and insisted on being your helper throughout the celebration.

As the guests arrived, they brought with them well-wishes, thoughtful gifts, and words of wisdom for the journey into parenthood, especially to you since this was going to be your first baby. The place was filled with joy, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and support surrounding your growing family.

“God, you look so beautiful with this dress,” Joel said as he hugged you from behind, hands on your tummy. “I didn’t get to see you wearing it this morning”

“Yes, because you let me sleep pass my alarm and I got late for work” you answered, leaning into his embrace.

“I know you’re been more tired lately” he said, placing his lips on your hair, kissing your head.

You sighed contentedly, relishing in Joel's warmth and affection. His gentle kisses on your hair sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in his embrace.

"Maybe I've been tired because someone kept me up last night," you teased, turning around to face him with a playful smile.

Joel raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, really? And who might that be?"

You chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. "I think you know exactly who I'm talking about, mister."

He grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. The warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips against yours made the weariness of the day melt away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in the shared anticipation of becoming parents.

As you pulled away from the kiss, Joel rested his forehead against yours. "You know, I can't wait to meet our little guy," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness.

"Me neither," you replied, your hand finding its way to your growing belly. "I wonder what he'll be like."

Joel chuckled, "Knowing you, he'll probably be just as stubborn and amazing as his mom."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Hey, I can't argue with the amazing part."

He laughed, pulling you into another hug.

“Oh! Young love” a voice interrupted your embrace with Joel.

“Mrs. Green. Good morning” you said, pulling away from Joel’s hug “What do you need today?”

“I let you both to be” Joel said, planting a kiss on your lips before heading out “Bye love, bye Mrs. Green”

"Ah, you two," she mused, her eyes twinkling.

"How can I help you today?" you asked, returning your attention to her.

As she browsed the flowers, she couldn't resist asking about your pregnancy. "How's everything going, dear? Pregnancy just suits you so well"

You shared the excitement you felt about the upcoming arrival of baby Rowan. Mrs. Green's eyes softened as she listened, her own memories of motherhood flooding back.

"You know, dear, I remember when I was pregnant. It was a magical time, but it also brought its own set of challenges."

Intrigued, you looked up from your work, inviting her to share her story.

"I felt beautiful and powerful carrying a life inside me," she began, "but as the months went by, I started to feel insecure. It was as if my body was no longer my own, and I was solely defined by the pregnancy. I began to question if my husband still saw me beyond the baby bump."

Her words resonated with the unspoken fears that had occasionally crept into your own thoughts.

"He was thrilled about becoming a father, and I felt a bit lost in the shadow. It's easy to get consumed by the changes and forget that you are still the woman your partner fell in love with," she continued, a knowing smile on her face.

As she spoke, you couldn't help but feel a sense of fear as she kept talking to you.

"And, dear," Mrs. Green added, her tone turning more serious, "I've seen your boyfriend spending time with that gorgeous artist at the gallery. It's important to take care of your relationship, especially during these times."

“Oh no! It’s nothing like that. They are working together, it’s a kind of group of artists wanting to have their work in his gallery” you said, not paying attention to the nagging feeling settling in your stomach.

"I see, dear. It's important to trust each other and maintain open communication," she advised, her eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and wisdom. "Sometimes, even the most innocent situations can lead to- “

“You shouldn’t be saying those kind of things”

Lauren’s voice interrupted the conversation between you and Mrs. Green from continuing.

“Lauren is not important” you said interfering.

“No, sorry but I can see is bothering you, don’t you see it Mrs. green?”

“You know what?” Mrs. Green said, completely ignoring Lauren “I’m coming later when your shop is less crowded” Mrs. green said, heading out before you could even respond.

You looked at Lauren standing in front of you, only the counter between you.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes, thank you” you smiled.

“I-I’m actually…You know what? I know I’m not the right person to say this but, don’t overthink.”

“I’m not”

“I don’t even know you and I know you’re doing it” she spoke “When I came back for him you both were pretending you were together only for make me go away, and he was already head over heals for you, why would be different now?”

“I’m having a baby with him, my body is changing, I’m moody a-and and what if he gets tired”

“He is obsessed with you, with or without a baby. I know him, and sharing a daughter with him is enough for me to know it."

“Oh my god” chuckled “We really do”

“But you know what’s the difference between you and me?”

You shook you head.

“You not only are giving him a baby, but the love he always deserved. I never could give that to him”

“Lauren-“

“Listen. He is an amazing man. Another person would never allow me to meet my daughter after what I did to them and he did it. He gave me a second chance to meet my daughter and I will be forever grateful for it, so the less I can do is helping the woman he loves”

You stood there, absorbing Lauren's words, feeling a mix of emotions – gratitude, reassurance, and a deep appreciation for the bond that had formed between you.

"Thank you, Lauren," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I appreciate your honesty and your support. It means a lot, especially during these uncertain times."

Lauren offered you a warm smile, leaning over the counter as if to bridge the physical distance between you. "Just remember, you're not alone in this. Joel is a good man, and he chose you. Don't let unnecessary doubts cloud the joy of what you're building together."

“By the way, do you need something?”

“Oh right! Yes, I would like a bouquet”

In the evening, the next day, when the sun dipped below the horizon, and the cozy warmth of your home enveloped you. Joel and Sarah had been busy preparing for your night together as a family, and the sweet aroma of a home-cooked dinner wafted through the air.

As you settled in the living room, surrounded by the soft glow of candles, Joel couldn't help but be extra attentive. He fetched pillows for you, making sure you were comfortable on the couch, and ensured you had a cozy blanket to keep you warm. Sarah, having embraced her role as a big sister-to-be, sat beside you, taking care of you.

Joel brought out a carefully arranged bouquet of flowers. "I thought these might brighten up our evening," he said with a smile, placing the bouquet on the coffee table.

"Joel, you really didn't have to," you said, touched by his actions.

"I wanted to," he replied, his eyes filled with affection. "You deserve all the beautiful things in the world, especially during this time."

You smiled, even when the nagging thoughts play inside your mind.

As dinner unfolded, Joel treated to your every need. He refilled your water glass, ensured your plate was perfectly portioned, and even went as far as cutting up your food for you. Sarah watched the interaction with a mix of amusement at seeing her father so devoted to your well-being.

"Joel, you're spoiling me," you chuckled, feeling a warm sense of gratitude for the love surrounding you.

"I just want you to feel cherished," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The night continued with laughter, shared stories from the day, and the anticipation of the family growing even closer with the arrival of baby Rowan. Joel's attentiveness didn't wane; if anything, it intensified as the night fell.

As you all gathered in the cozy living room, Joel suggested a movie night. He carefully selected a film, ensuring it was one both you and Sarah would enjoy. Snuggled together under the blanket, Joel made sure you were comfortable, adjusting pillows and ensuring you had enough space.

The movie played, but Joel's attention remained on you. He subtly caressed your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles. Every now and then, he stole glances, his eyes filled with affection and a touch of excitement.

As the credits rolled, Joel looked at you with a tender smile. "How are you feeling, Bee?"

"I'm feeling wonderful," you replied, your heart warmed by the love and care surrounding you.

"Good. That's all I want," he said, leaning in for a soft, peck in the lips.

.........

Once you lay under the covers of the bed. Joel held you close as if he hadn’t seen you in a year and mumbled, “I miss you” hiding his face on your neck.

“I was gone for 10 minutes.” You scoffed

“The longest 10 minutes of my life!” he said.

Joel's embrace tightened as if he never wanted to let go. You chuckled at his dramatic response, feeling the warmth of his affection.

"You're being a little dramatic, don't you think?" you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking at you with a playful pout. "Well, when you're used to having you around all the time, even 10 minutes feels like an eternity."

You couldn't help but be touched by his sincerity. Snuggling closer, you whispered, "I missed you too, Joel. But I'm right here now."

He smiled, his eyes expressing a mix of love and contentment. "That's all that matters."

He started kissing your lips. The kiss was gentle at first, filled with tenderness and affection but as the kiss deepened, the outside world ceased to exist. The worries of your mind were replaced by the warmth increasing within you with Joel’s touch.

Every touch of his fingertips increased something inside her. She wanted to show him she was still the woman he fell in love with, and not only the mother of his child, so she kept kissing him wildly.

“I want you” you spoke, breathlessly, slipping your both arms around his neck, and holding him close.

Then, his shirt had come off and your sleep gown was on the floor. You placed yourself over him. You cupped his face as your thumbs caressed his face.

He gazed up at you “You’re so beautiful like this”

You kissed him again, your fingers tangled in his hair to deepen the kiss. Now you were drunk in love with him. His skin was slick with sweat, but then he suddenly pulled away,

“What happened?” You asked, worried.

“I’m worried. I don’t wanna hurt you” you sighed, falling next to him in bed.

“Oh my god,” you said, pulling away from him “It was because of pity”

“How the fuck I would kiss you out of pity?”

“Don’t curse!” you exclaimed “Because you hadn’t touched me in like a month”

Joel's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern. "Bee, what are you talking about? Pity? That's the last thing on my mind."

You shifted in the bed, crossing your arms defensively. "Joel, we haven't been having sex for a while, and suddenly you start kissing me just for nothing. It just felt... I don't know, like pity or obligation."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Bee, it's not like that. I haven't touched you because I wanted to be careful and considerate with the pregnancy. I didn't want to do anything that might make you uncomfortable or harm the baby. But tonight, I felt like we were in a good place, and I just wanted to be close to you."

You softened at his explanation, realizing that he had been trying to be mindful of your feelings. "Joel, I appreciate that, I really do. It's just, I want to feel desired, not pitied."

He reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "Love, you are desired. More than you can imagine. Pregnancy has made me even more aware of the incredible woman you are, and I don't want you to doubt that for a second."

You took a moment to think about Joel's words, the sincerity in his gaze calming the storm of emotions within you. His touch on your cheek felt reassuring, and you began to see the genuine concern he had for both you and the baby.

"I guess I let my insecurities get the best of me," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "I just want us to be on the same page, especially with the baby coming."

Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. "We will be, Bee. Let's talk about our feelings more, and we'll figure this out together. I love you, and I don't want you doubting that for a moment."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. The vulnerability you shared in that moment brought you closer, deepening the bond between you and Joel.

"Thank you for being patient with me," you whispered, leaning into his touch.

Joel pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Always, Bee. We're in this together, no matter what."

The next day, Joel was out for a dinner meeting with the artists in preparation for the upcoming exhibition at his gallery. You and Sarah were at home, spending quality time together. Having dinner together and watching movies.

As you and Sarah chatted in the living room, a weird sensation caught your attention. A subtle cramp twinged in your lower stomach, and you instinctively winced, your hand resting on your belly.

"Are you okay, Bee?" Sarah asked, concern flickering in her eyes.

You forced a smile, trying to dismiss the discomfort. "Yeah, just some cramps. Probably nothing to worry about."

But as time passed, the cramps intensified, and a nagging worry settled in the pit of your stomach. You excused yourself to the bathroom, Sarah's concerned gaze following you.

Inside the bathroom, you took a deep breath, hoping the discomfort would subside. However, when you looked down, a wave of panic swept over you.

There was blood.

You felt a lump form in your throat, your hands trembling as you reached for your phone. You quickly dialed Joel's number, praying he would pick up.

But he didn’t. You tried calling him three more times, but there was no answer

Panic intensified as Joel's phone continued to go unanswered. With a shaky hand, called out for Sarah, your heart pounding in your chest. It only took her a few seconds to come to the bathroom.

"Sarah, something's wrong," you managed to say, your voice quivering. "I'm bleeding, and Your dad isn't answering his phone. I don't know what to do."

There was a moment of silence, and you could see Sarah's concern through her face. "Okay, Bee, Just try to stay calm. We need to get you to the hospital. Let me call my uncle”

Sarah quickly made the call to her Uncle Tommy, explaining the urgent situation. Within minutes, Tommy and Lily arrived at your home, their faces mirroring the concern etched on Sarah's.

They ran upstairs to help you get in the car and take you to the hospital.

"Hey, Bee, we're here for you," Tommy said, his voice gentle yet resolute.

Lily placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Sarah told us what's happening. Let's get you to the hospital. We'll take care of everything."

With their support, you were helped to the car, Sarah, Tommy, and Lily ensuring you were as comfortable as possible during the journey. The drive to the hospital was filled with tense silence, only interrupted by the occasional reassurances from Sarah and Lily who were holding your hands.

Upon arrival, Tommy parked the car as close to the entrance as possible. The emergency room staff was quick to respond, guiding you into a wheelchair and taking you inside for an immediate evaluation.

Sarah stayed by your side, holding your hand tightly. "Everything will be okay, Bee. They'll take care of you."

Inside the hospital, the medical team worked swiftly to assess your condition. Sarah, Tommy, and Lily were offering support and waiting anxiously for any updates. The atmosphere was tense, but their presence provided a sense of comfort amid the chaos.

After what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached with professional calm. "We're running some tests to understand the situation better. Please bear with us. We'll keep you informed."

Sarah, Tommy, and Lily took turns offering words of encouragement, their faces displayed worry and support.

Time seemed to stretch as you and your loved ones waited for the medical team'. The hospital's sterile scent and hushed conversations in the background only heightened the tension in the air. Sarah stayed close, her hand a constant source of comfort for you.

Finally, a nurse approached, her expression neutral yet professional. "We've conducted some tests, and the doctor will be with you shortly to discuss the results. Please try to remain calm."

Nervous glances were exchanged among you, Sarah, Tommy, and Lily. The waiting game continued, each passing minute feeling like an eternity.

When the doctor arrived, their face conveyed both seriousness and empathy. "We've identified the cause of the bleeding, and I want to assure you that we are closely monitoring the situation. But the most important thing is the baby is okay."

You took a deep breath, absorbing the information. Sarah squeezed your hand, her eyes reflecting relief for you and her baby brother. Tommy and Lily stood by, ready to offer support in any way they could.

Meanwhile, Joel sat at the dinner table with the group of artists and engaged in conversations about upcoming exhibitions, and the creative process. The atmosphere was lively, filled with the energy of passionate individuals coming together to share their love for art.

As he sipped his wine and participated in the discussions, his phone vibrated discreetly in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he noticed several missed calls from you. A faint frown creased his forehead, but he chose to ignore the calls, assuming it might be something that could wait until he finished the dinner.

An hour later, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a call from Tommy. Excusing himself from the table, Joel stepped into a quieter area to answer the call.

"Joel, you need to come to the hospital," Tommy's voice carried an urgency that immediately caught Joel's attention.

"What happened?" Joel's tone shifted, concern replacing the casual demeanor he had maintained at the dinner.

"It's Bee. Something happened,” Tommy explained, his words hitting Joel like a punch to the gut.

Fear gripped Joel's heart as he struggled to process the information. He quickly excused himself from the dinner, leaving the restaurant in a hurry. The drive home felt like an eternity, with thoughts of the worst-case scenarios racing through his mind.

When he arrived, the hospital was filled with an uneasy energy. He rushed inside, his steps echoing in the hallways. It was then that he learned the details of what had happened—the fear and the uncertainty.

Joel's worry escalated, and as he heard the story, the guilt of not answering the calls earlier gnawed at him. He hurried to be by your side, his heart heavy with concern and regret.

Once he spotted your room, he walked towards the door with a heavy heart, his worry intensifying with every step. Sarah and Tommy stood outside the room, their expressions a mix of concern and relief as they saw him approach.

"Dad," Sarah said, her voice a hushed whisper. "We're so glad you're here."

"What happened?" Joel's eyes darted between Sarah and Tommy, seeking answers.

Tommy explained the things that had happened in your absence the cramps, the trip to the hospital, and the agonizing wait for news about you and the baby. Joel's guilt deepened as he listened, the weight of not being there for you in those scary moments settling heavily on him.

Without another word, Joel entered the room, his eyes immediately finding you. Lily gave Joel a reassuring nod as she left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Bee," Joel whispered, rushing to your side, his voice filled with worry. "Are you okay? What happened?"

You looked up at him, your eyes welling with tears. The emotions that had been suppressed for hours burst forth as you saw Joel's face, your love for him, and the fear.

"I... I was bleeding, Joel," you managed to say, your voice quivering. "I tried calling you, but you didn't answer, and I was so scared."

Joel's eyes filled with regret as he took your hand, gently squeezing it. "I'm so sorry, Love. I should've been here. I should've answered my phone."

Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of fear, relief, and the overwhelming weight of the situation. Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he could protect you from all the bad in the world.

“Ho-How is the baby?” he asked, carefully and scared of what the answer would be.

You kept crying but found some strength to tell him.

That’s it. He thought and his heart broke as the reality sank in his head.

“He is fine,” you said, voice trembling.

Relief flooded Joel's face as he heard the words. He held you, his hands gently framing your face as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs.

"He's fine," you repeated, your voice shaky but filled with a mix of gratitude and reassurance.

Joel pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling you into another embrace. "Thank goodness," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine relief. "I don't know what I would've done if..."

He couldn't finish the sentence, the weight of the scare still heavy on both of your hearts. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, finding comfort in his warmth and the shared relief that the baby was okay.

"I should've been here," Joel repeated, his voice full of regret. "I won't leave your side now. We'll get through this, Bee. I promise."

The door to the hospital room opened, and a nurse entered, breaking the intimate moment. She offered a kind smile, understanding the emotions flooding around.

The nurse's gentle interruption brought a momentary pause in the room. She took a step forward, her eyes displaying both empathy and professionalism.

"I have good news," she said, smiling reassuringly. "The latest tests show that the baby is completely fine. However, given the situation, she must get some rest to ensure both her and the baby's well-being."

Joel nodded his expression a mix of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

The nurse adjusted some of the monitoring equipment, making sure everything was in order. "The doctor will be in shortly to provide more details and discuss the next steps. In the meantime, try to get some rest. It's important for both of you."

As the nurse left the room, a sense of relief washed over you and Joel. The weight of uncertainty hadn't fully lifted, but the news about the baby brought a glimmer of hope.

Joel continued to hold you, his touch a comforting presence. "Rest, Bee. I'll be right here with you," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

The door opened again, and this time, the doctor entered the room. They greeted you both with a warm smile before delving into a more detailed explanation of the situation. As they spoke, it became clear that while the baby was stable, your body needed time to recover.

"It's crucial that you prioritize rest," the doctor emphasized. "Your well-being directly impacts the baby's. We'll continue to monitor both of you closely, but taking it easy is the best course of action. You can go home, but you need to rest”

Joel nodded, his concern for you etched across his face. "We'll do whatever it takes to make sure they're both okay."

The car ride back home was filled with heavy silence. Joel drove cautiously, occasionally glancing at you in the rearview mirror. Sarah sat quietly beside you, her presence a comforting anchor.

The weight of almost losing your baby hung in the air, and you found yourself lost in your own thoughts. The doctor's words about rest echoed in your mind, and the gravity of the situation pressed on you. The streets outside blurred as your mind grappled with the fragility of life and the overwhelming responsibility that now rested on your shoulders.

Joel's hand found yours, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We're almost home," he said softly, breaking the silence. "You just focus on resting, Bee. We'll take care of everything else."

Your gaze met his in the rearview mirror, and you managed a faint nod. The drive continued in quiet introspection, each passing moment carrying the weight of the recent scare.

When you arrived home, the familiar surroundings felt both comforting and surreal. Joel helped you inside, and the air was charged with unspoken emotions. Sarah quietly excused herself, sensing the need for a private moment.

Joel guided you upstairs to the bed, and as you settled in, he knelt beside you, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, a genuine concern etched on his face.

You nodded, unable to find the words. You couldn’t help but to felt guilty creeping all over your body, you were supposed to take care of the baby, but you just hurt him, what happened had left you emotionally drained, and the need for rest weighed heavily on you. Joel placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing up.

"I'll make sure everything is in order. You just take it easy," he said, his voice a soothing presence.

As he left to attend to the tasks around the house, you lay there, feeling a mix of exhaustion and emotional turbulence.

The room was filled with a soft glow from the bedside lamp, casting a warm ambiance. You closed your eyes, attempting to quiet the whirlwind of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you. The events of the day had been a stark reminder of the fragility of life, and the weight of responsibility settled heavily on your shoulders.

After a while, Joel returned to the room, his movements quiet and deliberate. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes still carrying the worry that had etched lines on his face throughout the day.

"Is there anything you need?" he asked, his voice a gentle ask.

You shook your head, a small smile attempting to reassure him. "I just need you”

Joel's expression softened at your words. Without a moment's hesitation, he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you. The bed dipped slightly under his weight as he pulled you into a comforting embrace.

"I'm right here," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, a rhythmic gesture meant to offer solace in the quiet of the room.

etched lines on Joel's face began to ease as the two of you shared a quiet moment, finding comfort in each other's arms.

Time seemed to stretch, and in the hushed atmosphere, the love that bound you and Joel together became an unbreakable force. There were no words needed, just the shared understanding that in moments of vulnerability, you could lean on each other for support.

The night unfolded in a gentle quietude, and as you lay in Joel's arms, the weight of the day gradually lifted.

Joel pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, a gesture filled with both love and reassurance. "Rest, Bee. I'll be right here with you," he murmured.

As you closed your eyes, letting the rhythmic sounds of Joel's breathing and the soft hum of the night envelop you, a profound sense of gratitude washed over you.

The next morning arrived with a soft glow entered through the curtains. Joel had let you sleep for a few more hours. The sounds of his muted conversations downstairs indicated that he was working from home, managing gallery stuff, and ensuring everything ran just right during his absence.

As you slowly woke up, the weight of the previous day's events settled into your consciousness. However, the warmth of the morning sunlight and the gentle ambiance of the room brought a sense of calm. You could hear Joel's hushed voice from below, comforting you.

Taking a deep breath, you sat up, feeling exhausted and the comforting presence of your surroundings. The door creaked open, and Joel entered, with a tray of breakfast in his hands. His eyes softened as he saw you awake, and a warm smile graced his face.

"Good morning, Love" he greeted, setting the tray on your lap. "I thought you might be hungry."

You returned his smile, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Thank you"

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you eat. What had happened the previous night lingered in the air. Joel sensed the need for a moment of normalcy and began updating you on the gallery stuff and the plans for the upcoming exhibition.

As he spoke, you couldn't help but admire his dedication, balancing both work responsibilities and his commitment to you. The love and care he poured into his words were evident, a reassuring reminder that you weren't facing anything alone anymore.

You belonged somewhere now.

After a while, Joel finished his updates and looked at you with a warm expression. "How are you feeling this morning?"

You paused, considering the question. "Better, I think. And with you here, it makes everything a little brighter for me."

His eyes softened, and he reached for your hand. "I'm glad to hear that. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

Nodding, you appreciated Joel's steadying presence. As he rose from the bed, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Rest a bit more if you need to. I'll be right downstairs if you need anything."

Later that day, the sunlight had mellowed into a warm glow as Sarah returned home from school. Joel, who had been working with his laptop on the table, greeted her with a smile as she walked in.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, setting aside his work and standing up to welcome her. "How was your day?"

Sarah returned the smile, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "It was okay. How's Bee?"

Joel's expression softened. "She's resting. It's been a bit of a rough time, but we're taking it one step at a time."

Sarah nodded, understanding the situation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just being here is enough," Joel reassured her, appreciating her concern. "How about you? How's school?"

As they settled into the living room, Joel found a moment to share something with Sarah that had been on his mind. He looked at her with excitement.

"Sarah, there's something I want to talk to you about," he began, his tone more serious yet filled with softness.

Her curiosity piqued, and Sarah nodded for him to continue.

"You know how much your dad loves Bee, right?" Joel started, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Well, I've been thinking a lot, especially after everything that's happened…. I’m asking Bee to marry me”

Sarah's eyes widened with realization. “Are you for real?”

Joel nodded, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Yeah. I've never been more sure about anything in my life. Bee is just… I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I also want you to know that this doesn't change anything between us. If anything, it just means we'll be a more official family."

A genuine smile spread across Sarah's face. "That's great, Dad. I think she is the right for you”

“Do you think so?”

“You know Bee is the girl I pictured as my mom when I was little. She was so kind all the time and I didn’t understand why you didn’t like it”

Joel's eyes softened at Sarah's heartfelt words. "She cares about you a lot, you know. And I'm grateful that you've accepted her into our lives."

Sarah nodded, a warm expression on her face. "Bee is the best thing of our family and I’m so happy you want to do this, dad”

Joel's heart swelled with gratitude and love for Sarah. "I'm happy too, Sarah. And I appreciate you welcoming Bee into our lives with open arms. You and Bee mean the world to me, and I want us to be a happy family."

Sarah grinned, her eyes reflecting genuine happiness. "We are a family, Dad. And soon, it's going to be official"

Joel chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Officially official."

a/n: As I said, the next chapter is the last one so get ready for the happy ending

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981 @littleshadow17 @sevillagrenada

111 notes · View notes

chosos-mascara · 2 years

Text

｡˚۰˚☽ K I N K T O B E R D A Y 10 ☽˚۰˚｡

An Overheard Conversation - Giyu Tomioka

cw: bondage, f!reader tied up, dom!Giyu, established relationship, soft sex

After overhearing a conversation between your partner and his friends, you anxiously question if he'd like to demonstrate his desires with you.

minors+ageless dni. prompt from @tomiokas-lunchbox - thank you!! 1.8k words

masterlist

Tomioka and yourself had kept up a good relationship dynamic. Everyone surrounding you had seen this too, often commenting on how your personalities complimented each other's well; both quiet, reserved, and thoughtful. It had been a year going strong, and Tomioka had never failed to think of ways to surprise you, buying gifts, making dinner, and accompanying you on missions. It was clear he was in love with you, and you'd of course reciprocated both these feelings, and actions.

Your sex life had been good, the pair of you taking it slow to begin with, though never venturing further than vanilla. The pair of you didn't touch much on the topic, afraid of the other's judgement if they'd disagreed with a kink.

It wasn't until a few glasses of sake following Tengen's birthday you'd heard him speak about anything related to this, and the conversation itself hadn't even been meant for your ears. A quick rush outside to have a cigarette had led you to overhear Uzui and Rengoku, along with your boyfriend, discussing what the two of you hadn't. Tengen had of course been carrying the exchange, admitting to a few things he'd enjoyed from his wives, Kyojuro agreeing and being the supportive friend he'd always been, though restraining from speaking of his own experiences.

Giyu didn't open up at first, but right as you were about to move from the wall you'd been hiding behind, you heard the voice you'd found comfort in over the last year. He was quieter than they'd been, attempting to keep some sort of privacy, but you'd managed to make out what he'd been saying. "I enjoy bondage." The words rung in your ears as you gasped, bondage? It made sense - he'd always been so skilled, and fast, to tie up demons. He was quick with his hands, and had some sort of knowledge on knots to use for restraints, but you'd assumed this had simply been down to training. Had he done this to his past partners too?

That night had replayed in your head for the following week, and had created a little tension between the two of you. Giyu had been oblivious as to why, simply thinking you'd been stressed over other situations, and attempting to offer comfort. But, you couldn't stop thinking about him in all of the scenarios he'd restrained others, your thoughts clouded by images of him tying you up as he had to them. Each time you'd daydream you'd felt yourself grow wetter, imagining yourself decorated in ropes as he used you at his disposal.

You weren't sure how to bring up the topic in conversation, and your interest in experimenting with this. After some consideration, you'd decided on bringing it up when he got home from work this evening, unable to keep it to yourself any longer.

"I heard you speaking with Tengen and Rengoku the other night." You admitted, avoiding eye contact. Giyu stared at you, confusion clouding him as he'd tried to think back to the conversation. They'd all spoken a lot, and with a few drinks in him, he couldn't understand what you were implying with such a vague statement. "What do you mean?" He asked, after racking his mind for every scenario he could think of. "Did I say something that upset you?" His question was laced with concern. "N-not exactly-" You put your chopsticks to one side, watching his hands as his own utensil had hovered above his plate, not making another movement as he had been sat deep within his own thoughts. "It doesn't matter, honestly." You'd tried to brush it off, but knew Giyu wouldn't let it go like that. "But, it's bothering you." He'd said the statement as more of a question, awaiting some kind of reassurance. You shook your head. "Not in a bad way." Regret filled you for bringing it up over dinner - this was something you should have left for another time. Maybe during intimacy would have been more appropriate.

Giyu finished his dinner in silence as you cleaned up the kitchen, finally bringing his plate to wash as you were heading to bed. He was quiet when undressing, climbing in beside you softly, as not to disturb you. But, he didn't lay down, instead sitting upright against the headboard. "Are you awake?" He questioned, and you turned over in response, looking up to him. "Please, tell me what I said."

The tone of his voice was different, a little desperation, but you could tell he'd figured it out. There was some lust behind his words, and looking to his gaze, you could see he was already mentally fucking you behind those eyes. "You like bondage." You'd stated, ready to face the consequence of your statement. He nodded, sighing. "Do you want me to show you?" He questioned, your heart racing against your chest as you nodded, anticipating his next move. Giyu opened the top drawer of his nighstand, and after some rummaging, pulled out two purple ropes, placing them on the bed. "You've had those this whole time?" You laughed awkwardly, in attempts to lighten the mood - or rather, your nerves.

"Undress yourself." Giyu spoke, eyes meeting yours as he untangled the soft synthetic cords with his hands. "W-what?" You asked; he wasn't usually so forward. A lot of the time you'd initiate sex, and he wasn't often giving instruction. He didn't respond, just moving his eyes down to meet the ropes beside him, straightening them out. Wanting to humor him, you undressed, removing the lounge wear you'd been comfortable in, air hitting your nude body as you sat on the bed, exposed. You watched his blue eyes trail up your body, taking you in before getting to work.

"Kneel." Giyu spoke, and you hesitated, but did as he'd said. Pressing your knees into the mattress, you didn't speak as he took one rope, folding it in half before bringing it under one leg, wrapping it around and pushing the two ends through the loop. With this, he pulled it tought, pulling the tail ends apart, pushing one between your folded thigh and calf, the other around the rope and between ankle and ass. He tied a knot on the inside of your thigh, brushing your exposed pussy as he fiddled with the rope. Giyu repeated the process with your other leg, silently and quickly having both of your legs tied in folded positions. Watching him at work, restricting you, knowing how he'd enjoyed this, caused your stomach to flip. You watched the concentration on his face - there was something so attractive about how he'd worked on your body, completely undressed for him. You could feel your arousal pooling at his touch.

"This is called a frogtie." He informed you, maintaining his serious tone. You nodded, a little starstruck from his knowledge. It was almost as if he'd been your sensei, you a student. The amount of sexual tension had you on edge, waiting for his next move. "Can I restrict your arms, too?" You'd almost choked on air at the question, nodding. He'd gathered a slightly shorter piece of rope from another drawer, moving to sit behind you.

Giyu's hand took yours, giving a reassuring squeeze before placing rope around the both of your wrists, wrapping it around a few times, before you felt him weave it together, finally knotting it. The pair of you were silent, simply enjoying the feeling of each other's skin as his fingers grazed along you. "How are you doing?" Giyu questioned, lips nearing the your neck, hands gliding up your back to hold your shoulders soothingly. "I'm fine." You told him, appreciating the fact he'd taken the time to check on you. You felt his lips reach your neck, planting delicate kisses downward, going along your shoulder. You leaned back, bare back hitting his clothed chest as he continued, bringing a hand around to cup your chest. Your arms, bound behind you, remained between the two of your bodies, arching back pushing your chest outward. He squeezed your breasts, moving his lips from your skin, instead perching his chin against your shoulder.

His right hand trailed down, reaching to massage your thigh, other hand pinching at your nipple. You squirmed against him, stifling a moan. "You look so beautiful." He commented, moving from behind you to kneel at your front, pushing you backward lightly. You lay on your back, knees spread open while your feet remained at your ass. The name, frogtie, was obvious to you now - legs bent as the amphibian's would be. Laying on your arms was a little uncomfortable, but with the growing wetness you'd felt between your legs, you ignored it.

Giyu traced the ropes on your legs, moving to your inner thigh, lightly grazing over your pussy. Your head had been propped up by the pillows, so you'd been able to watch his movements, and the way he'd been looking at you. You'd seen his expression while inside you, and while close to orgasm, but this had been entirely different. He was studying you, a fire behind his eyes as he slowly teased over your body. You were his work of art.

Finally, after the few minutes he'd spent working you up, he placed a finger over your clit, rubbing over it. You'd pushed your hips up when he'd finally relieved the tension, a quiet moan leaving your lips for him. He simply watched as you'd wriggled under him, chest rising and falling quickly. "Please, fuck me." You begged, taking him by surprise. The build up in your stomach wasn't enough, you'd wanted to feel him. His ragged breaths mixed with your moans as he came undone, usual stoic expression furrowing - all for you. You'd loved how the Giyu you'd known was completely different to everyone else's perspectives. He was comfortable enough around you to let his pleasure be written across his face, gasps leaving from his lips as he loses composure.

Your boyfriend pulled his trousers to his knees, pressing the head of his cock to your soaking hole, thrusting the tip in. You'd immediately let a moan escape your lips at the feeling; the fullness inside you. He'd started slow, but picked up a pace, steadying himself by gripping your legs. He wasn't the most vocal during sex, but with you tied up for him, he couldn't help but hum as he watched his dick disappear into you, legs bound, arms restricted behind your back. A redness was flushing over his cheeks, a little embarrassed by his inability to contain his moans, even if quiet.

His head tilted back, eyes closed, hips hitting against yours. You bit a lip, each barge into you filling you out, spine curved backwards over your wrists, tits bouncing. Your head pressed back into the cushions beneath, eyes squeezing shut. Giyu pushed in harshly, a loud moan leaving his lips as he coated your walls in his seed as he bottomed out.

#giyuu x reader #giyu tomioka #giyu smut #giyu x y/n #tomioka x reader #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kinktober

917 notes · View notes

juletheghoul · 1 year

Text

Bravo, Dieter.

Authors note: I'm just as surprised to be here as you are. We're starting the year off with a bang, writing for a character I've only ever done half a drabble of lol, hopefully you enjoy what I came up with. As always, thank you @wheresarizona for beta-ing and letting me exorcise my demons through you. Shoutout to @frannyzooey for her unending support, and to my literal wife @foli-vora for screaming reassurances at me (affectionately) Love y'all!

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: a sprinkle of angst (Dieter is a dummy- no specifics, I left whatever dumb comment he said up to your interpretation), 18+ no minors, piv sex, dirty talk, feelings? let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist

-----

There were twelve of them, twelve absolutely perfect roses wrapped up in expensive-looking brown paper, and they made you sigh. There was only one person who could have sent them.

Goddamn it, Dieter.

There was a card tucked between the blood-red blooms, three little words.

“Text me back.♥️”

Your blood boiled, fizzled, and cracked under the strength of your annoyance, and without giving it much thought, you marched right over to the garbage can and shoved everything in, vowing silently to put it out of your mind.

Three days passed before the second, bigger bouquet arrived at your door—more roses, bigger and somehow more lush than the first bouquet.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please talk to me. ♥️♥️♥️”

They went into the trash with a roll of your eyes, ignoring the slight flicker of guilt at the waste of such beautiful flowers. Still, the memory of his words came back into the forefront of your mind, compounding the sentiment that they had no place amongst your things.

Two days later, another gorgeous arrangement sat on your kitchen counter, this time an array of different colours and textures; a work of art.

“Nothing in this world feels like you. Let’s kiss.♥️”

Your eyes close, and you can feel him, feel the way his mouth moved against yours, how he’d kiss you until you dripped for him. How sweetly his tongue moved against yours, against your nipple, between your legs. The flowers were on the receiving end of the daggers in your eyes for him, but they stayed on the counter.

The fourth bouquet was the epitome of excess.

It was massive, almost too heavy, and it was only with sheer determination that you managed to heave it onto the counter. A storm of white blooms contained within a surprisingly tasteful black vessel. Orchids, roses–peonies that were almost fluffy, a baby’s breath halo.

“I miss how wet your pussy gets for me.♥️”

A gasp. A widening of your eyes and more memories of the times he pulled you apart in your bedroom, in his.

Your fingers fly across the keys on your phone.

[you] Dieter, enough.

[D] I knew that last note would get you.

[you] Stop sending me fucking flowers.

[D] Forgive me. I miss you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.

You chewed on your lip, anger burning white hot in your gut that he managed to get you speaking to him once again. It was in you to turn off your phone and head out, grab a drink with some friends, or indulge in some retail therapy, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Truth was, you missed him too, missed whatever arrangement you’d both somehow found yourselves in after one too many flirty comments, one too many lonely nights.

[you] it seemed like you did. You really hurt my feelings, and I don’t want to deal with it if that’s how it’s going to be.

You stared at your phone, wondering whether you truly preferred cutting all ties.

[D] I know, I really am sorry–let me come over. We can talk about it, and I can apologize in person.

You hesitated, knowing full well what would happen if you let him in.

[you] just to talk…?

[D] Yes, just to talk…be there in 20 mins?

[you] Fine.

[D] see you soon xo

You rushed to your bathroom, ignoring the excitement and arousal burning in your belly as you jumped into the shower.

All too soon, there’s a knock at the door, and it’s almost irritating how fast you move to answer it.

“Hi, babe.” He’s leaning against the doorframe with a cheeky little smile, and you long to smack it off his face; he must see it because the smile vanishes and is replaced with a boyish frown.

A cat caught with the canary.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, Dieter.” You move to let him in, and the smell of his body wash makes you salivate.

You ignore it.

“Look, I know it was a stupid thing to say. I don’t even know why I said it. I didn’t mean it at all—can we please just forget it happened?” His voice is velvet, his shoulders are so broad, and it’s not lost on you that he’s wearing a baggy pair of sweats with an even baggier sweatshirt. The outline of his cock a calculated taunt.

You cross your arms and turn away.

“It was mean. So fucking mean, and it made me feel horrible.” Your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to, a true glimpse into how hurt you were. You feel his broadness behind you.

“I know, it was so stupid, I’m stupid sometimes—I regretted it as I was saying it. I didn’t mean it at all.” His big hands skate across your shoulders, slowly turning you to face him. “Can you forgive me?” He’s staring at your mouth, and you almost pant. He’s so close, he smells so fucking good, and every molecule of your being screams at you to just give in.

He senses it.

His hands slide down your sides, grabbing onto your hips softly as he pulls you ever closer. His head dips, and he plants a soft kiss on your neck. The sigh you let out fills the dwindling space between you, involuntary. Just like the way your head moves almost imperceptibly to the side to give him more access, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Forgive me?” He kisses your jaw, moving up towards your ear. “I missed you so much.” He bites your earlobe while his hands move to grab at your ass. “Did you miss me?” He moves to the other side, repeating the same circuit before he looks you in the eye.

Your slightly parted lips and glazed-over expression are all the confirmation he needs to know he’s been forgiven.

He presses his lips to yours softly, so soft it almost tickles, and he swallows the small whimper it pulls out from your throat.

He presses himself closer still, the wall of his chest pressed up against you tight. His kiss turns from something soft to all-consuming, something breathless.

“I thought-“ he moves to kiss your neck again. “-you only came to talk.” Your hands move without your permission, fingers threading through the wild locks of his hair.

“We did talk.” His tongue is in your mouth now, and it tastes like the gum he always chews, minty and sweet. “I wanna kiss now.” He devours you again as his hand creeps up your shirt, and now the cup of your bra is being pulled down. His tongue moves against yours while his fingers pluck at your nipple.

You moan, and it spurs him on, his cock hard against your hip, and suddenly you're herded towards the bedroom, only stopping every so often en route for him to press you against a wall or door. His hands are always moving, always grabbing and palming.

You land in your bed with a soft gasp, but he doesn’t let you land alone; he’s right there with you. The look of triumph shining out through his dark eyes, lidded with the same passion that presses against your core when he slots his hips in the cradle of your thighs. A soft hum from him, a panted breath from you, and the whisper of skin moving against the now-rumpled sheets of your bed are the soundtrack to your reunion.

He pulls away, and you chase his mouth, any anger left overtaken by lust. He laughs low, not unkindly, moving to kneel between your legs as you stretch out before him. His eyes follow the movement of your body, plotting how he’ll devour you.

He smiles as he divests you of your layers, unwrapping you like a present, and as they come off, your arousal burns brighter, pools at your opening like a spring just for him.

“Admit it-you missed me.” He’s almost breathless, his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties.

“Obviously.” You grit out the word, raising your hips to help him, and he lets out a bark of laughter. “I don’t need your smugness, mister.” You reach up to pull his shirt up and off, and he lets you. The broadness of his shoulders, and the golden skin on display, almost makes you sigh.

“I like that you missed me-“ he lifts your leg by your knee and the flash of his rings catches your eye before he places a soft kiss on your calf. “-makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He wasn’t lying; you could see the proof of it tenting the front of his sweats.

“Show me how much you like it.” You match his tone, reaching up to run your fingers down his belly, through the little patch of hair, and further down until you tease at his waistband.

“Pull me out.” His words send a thrill through you, and you rush to comply, relishing the look on his face when you finally wrap your hand around the heft of him. His low moan goes straight to your cunt when you rub your thumb through the pearl of his own arousal, giving him a quick stroke before he pulls his sweats down and off.

His cock bobs in front, resting against your wet center when he gets back into position, hot and heavy, and by the way your heart is pounding, he can surely feel it even there-all for him. He spreads your legs open and up, bending them at the knees and holding them tight to your chest with his big hands on your shins.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. I bet I could just slip right in, wouldn’t even need my hands.” He rocks himself back and forth slowly, coating himself in your liquid heat, his eyes glued to your cunt. You writhe, whining with frustration. He lets out a tsk, drunk on his ability to get you into this state. One of his hands moves, and then his thumb is circling your perky little clit, dizzying circles, while his cock rests just at the mouth of your pussy, the thickness of him opening you up like a flower. He leans forward slightly, letting his spit drip down where his thumb is, and it’s like you're drowning in him.

Your hands pluck at your nipples as the circling of his thumb pushes you closer and closer towards nirvana.

“God, yes, play with your tits.” He swirls his thumb faster, the glide of it just right—and then you’re floating, gifting him with a filthy moan as your cunt clenches, all but pulling him inside. He doesn’t wait until your orgasm passes; he feeds himself into your fluttering entrance, and his earlier musing was correct-he slides right in.

“Fuck.” His voice is low, the bravado gone, lost in the proverbial sauce as he coats himself in you. He speeds up quickly, unable—or unwilling to pace himself. His eyes are glazed over when he looks up at you, a gorgeous flush creeping up his chest, lighting up his cheeks and his ears. His panting breath, the wet sounds of your joining, and your gasping moans all come together to make the song that always plays whenever he’s with you.

“I’m gonna fucking come-“ he sounds wrecked, and he is- his hips snapping faster now, the wet clutch of your cunt casts its spell on him, and within a handful of thrusts, he’s groaning, his hand leaves your shin and moves to hold himself as he comes. The first spurt of it is inside, but he pulls out and finishes on the lips of your sex, and you know this is his favourite part.

“Oh fuckkk, there it is-“ He groans out the words, and his voice is somehow more vulgar than the act, mesmerized by the sight of your pussy covered in his come. “God, I fucking missed that.” He hisses, enduring the discomfort of overstimulation just to rub himself in his own mess.

“I missed it too.” You’re sated, basking in the afterglow, loving the mess just as much as he does. He smiles up at you, and you ignore the way your heart pounds for him.

“I know you did.” He’s not cocky when he says it, and it makes ignoring the pounding harder than it should. His fingers collect some of his fluids and push it back in, as deep as his thick fingers can get, before popping them into his mouth, pulling an involuntary moan. “Give me a few, and then I’ll fuck you on your knees how you like.” He leans forward to lay between your legs, kissing his way up from your sternum to plant one of those toe-curling kisses on your mouth once more.

“What a gentleman.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, relishing his dimpled smile.

“You should know-“ he frowns now, eyes darting, and you know what he’s thinking, wondering if maybe there’s a pounding he’s ignoring.

“You’re forgiven, Dieter, it’s okay. Just stop sending me flowers.” You run your fingers through his hair; nothing else needs to be said on the matter, and for the rest of the night-there isn’t.

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

Tag list: @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @mandosmistress @deadhumourist @felicisimor @no-droids-on-sunday @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @lorosette @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @allthatsleftbehind @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @planetariumx @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @evelynseventyr @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter x freader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble fic

320 notes · View notes

focsle · 1 year

Note

Oh Hai, I am going to Svalbard and thence on a ship into the ice - can you talk to me about whaling on the ice? I remember there were whaling stations in Greenland and possibly Iceland as well, where whales were brought be smaller ships for rendering, but that was never a big New England practice?

Oh, sounds chilly! I hope the excursion is all you wish for. Sorry for the incredibly long post--it got away from me! This is how I spent my evening! Sorry for any typos; it’s near 1 am.

Shore whaling isn't my forte so I can't speak much to that. There were whaling settlements set up on places like Herschel Island to support the industry as it stretched into the Arctic, though that's not quite the same as shore whaling stations. There were some 20th century ones up in the Arctic too, but again, not my forte.

I can talk about whaling on the ice, though. After 1848 when the commercial whaling fleet learned of bowheads, it pushed northwards in pursuit of them as the old whaling grounds were increasingly overfished.

A struck bowhead whale drawn by Captain Benjamin Boodry.

An anonymous letter published in the Quaker newspaper The Friend in 1850, written from the perspective of a Bowhead whale, offered up a rare perspective in opposition to the industry at this time:

“Although our situation, and that of our neighbors in the Arctic is remote from our enemy’s country, yet we have been knowing to the progress of affairs in the Japan and Ochotsk seas, the Atlantic and Indian oceans, and all the other “whaling grounds”. We have imagined that we were safe in these cold regions; but no; within these last two years a furious attack has been made upon us, an attack more deadly and bloody than any of our race ever experienced in any part of the world. I scorn to speak of the cruelty that has been practiced by our blood-thirsty enemies, armed with harpoon and lance; no age or sex has been spared.”

The expansion was both a detriment to the whales and a detriment to the men who hunted them. Many whalers were ill-prepared for the colder conditions, with often inadequate outfits purchased from the ship’s slop chest. Cases of scurvy (and death from such) increased significantly as months were spent in regions where the resupply of fresh produce wasn’t possible as it was in the South Pacific. The US Consul in Honolulu frequently commented on the condition of the men filling their hospital from a season up North, describing whalers who “died after reaching port and before they could be landed, while others were carried to the hospital on litters, being too feeble to walk.”

The whaling Bark Samboul, 1886. Via New Bedford Whaling Museum.

It also could be a psychologically bleak time as well. Allen Newman, captain of the Covington (1852-55, and 56-59) wrote:

“All this day a strong gale from the East with thick rainy weather, this is hard if I was alone I think I should be tempted to some rash act, such as Murder or Suicide, but I am surrounded with A plenty as poor as myself, misery loves company.”

Later he wished for all the things he couldn't have access to while bound up in fog and ice.

“hard gale from the North with cold Weather & A Bad Sea such is life on the Ocean. I Wish myself at Home with my Wife & Children, seated by A good fire & eating apples or I would willingly go Without the apples to be there O Lord watch over us keep us in health & give us Prosperity as the years rool round.. I hope to find myself with my family on some May morning & enjoying all the Blessings of A Happy Home.”

Benjamin Boodry, 2nd mate of the Arnolda (1852-55) also missed home after a failed attempt to catch Bowheads.

“Saw B[ow]Heads lowered without success chased all day came on board hungry and I am unhappy as a dog and homesick discontented wish I was at home I’d give all that I have got in the ship and run the risk of going naked or starving to death”

It wasn’t all misery, however. William Stetson, cabin-boy-to-foremast-hand on the Arab (1853-57) talked about some of the fun they had, too.

“We saw several bowheads but could get no where near them, and then all three boats penetrated farther into the ice, our boats crew all got out on a large cake of ice which was covered with snow, and enjoyed a little game of snow ball. To set foot anywhere out of the ship or boat soon on an ice cake in the Kamtschatka sea is very agreeable for a change; we enjoy ourselves among the ice, chasing seals and birds, snow balling, &c.”

Bowheads, with their battering ram heads designed to break through thick ice, knew their world far better than the new predators that just entered into it. In all instances, when pursued, they would make their escape attempt by running under the ice.

“Our officers were not very anxious to tackle them in the ice, as it needs an expert whaleman to handle them there,” wrote Albert Peck, greenhand on the Covington, the same voyage in which his captain was privately contemplating Murder And/Or Suicide and dreaming about home and hearths and apples. “As soon as one is struck he instantly makes for the compact ice and if he runs under, they are obliged to give him line til they can get the boat clear, and it often happens that before the boat can be cleared the line is gone, it being useless to try to hold it. Sometimes when he is running and they are holding on to the line [...] it will strike with its full force against a cake of ice, and if not very large and struck fairly with her stern, it will split and the boat will go between the pieces, but if not struck fairly then wo[e] to the boat. Often times the line will be cut or chaffed off against the ice, and then farewell Mr. Whale.”

Whaling wife Mary Lawrence on board the Addison (1856-60) described such a hunt, and the improvising whalers did when a whale ran under the ice.

“Our boats had not been down more than ten minutes before the whale came up between our bow boat and a boat from another ship. They both started for him, but our boat, having the best chance, struck. He ran under the ice soon after they fastened, but our brave crew were not going to give him up so, so two boats went around the other side of the ice to lance him and send him back, which they finally did after having quite an exciting time. Mr. Nickerson got out of his boat and went on to the ice to try to shoot him, while another boats crew from another ship landed and snowballed the whale, probably wounding him severely.”

The whale was ultimately killed by all this and brought alongside.

Bark Jacob A. Howland, trying out blubber among the ice. 1887. NBWM.

Benjamin Boodry, for all his misery as a 2nd mate on the Arnolda, would find himself up in the ice again as captain on his next voyage aboard the Fanny (1856-60). In icy regions he often described whaling happening in a ‘pond hole’, meaning a section of open water amidst all the ice floes. From the safety of said pond hole, he saw the peril that came with whaling in the Arctic.

“Comes in with light gales from East ship in a pond hole boiling with the Roman [another whaleship] thick and plenty of snow and verry heavy swell at ½ past 7 came to the N side of the pond hole it lighted some saw the wreck of a vessel about 2 miles in the Ice dismasted and the ship Brutus lying by her the swell being to heavy dare not venture through the Ice as the Brutus was there to render all assistence in saveng life poor fellows I pitty them God only knows whose turn it will be next this is a dangerous way of getting an honest living at 8 saw a large light set supposed to be on board of the wreck I wonder what poor fellow it is Middle and latter part blowing spoke Capt Henry of the Brutus haveing Capt Sherman and crew of Bark Newton on board there vessel being stove in the Ice he belongs in Rochester town and has lost his wife since he sailed and now has lost his vessel take my vessel but save me my Little Mary”

Getting wrecked by ice was the greatest risk in the region. At one point the Addison found itself almost entirely bound up in ice, and Mary described the anxiety of the scene.

"The first flow of ice that came to us was not bad, quite thick but considerably broken up. After that it came on pretty bad. We were obliged to have men out on the ice cutting our way along, until we came to a field that was impossible to get through. Just then there came on a slight breeze, so that we slipped out anchor, and turning around a little, we cleared all of that except the point. Then we put down our large anchor and drifted through the remainder, some of which was very heavy, solid field ice two miles in length. After cutting, spading, sawing, and pulling with ropes, we finally worked through the last of it about four o’clock in the morning. It was a night of hard work and anxiety. We were afraid mostly of staving our ship again. There was also danger of dragging our anchor and going ashore."

Thomas Howes Norton, captain of the whaleship the Citizen (1852), found his ship less fortunate in navigating the ice.

“Ice was all around us, which would have passed us on the larboard bow, and thus we should have escaped a concussion; but instead of doing this he put the wheel down, which brought the ship into the wind and the consequence was a large hole was stoven in her larboard bow; the ship began to leak badly. Casks were immediately filled with water, and placed on the starboard side of the ship, and thus in a measure heeled the ship, which brought the leak to a considerable extent out of the water; otherwise she must have sunk in a very little time.”

While the crew of the Citizen would patch the damage made on that instance, it wouldn’t help them for long. Their ship would be utterly destroyed in a gale in the Arctic Ocean in September 1852, with five lives lost and thirty-three men stranded ashore with little to protect them.

Wreck of the Citizen, via Library of Congress.

While stranded, those thirty-three men were assisted by the local Yupik people and lived with them for nine months before eventually being brought home by two New England whalers.

It was the Arctic that played a huge role in finishing the American whale fishery, too. In 1871, thirty-three American whaling vessels were unexpectedly bound up in pack ice off Alaska. Their collective crews (and families aboard) reflected 1219 lives suddenly plunged into mortal peril. All the captains came together and signed a statement of what they all agreed to do:

"We, the undersigned, masters of whaleships now lying at Point Belcher, after holding a meeting concerning our dreadful situation, have all come to the conclusion that our ships cannot be got out this year, and there being no harbor that we can get our vessels into, and not having provisions enough to feed our crews to exceed three months, and being in a barren country, where there is neither food nor fuel to be obtained, we feel ourselves under the painful necessity of abandoning our vessels, and trying to work our way south with our boats, and, if possible, get on board of ships that south of the ice."

They set their ensigns upside-down, took to their whaleboats, and abandoned the whole endeavor to the Arctic.

Image from Harpers Weekly 1871, of some of the whaleships bound up in ice and the crews evacuating.

Through heavy swells and ice they rowed, hoping to make it to open water where other ships from the fleet might be there to save them. It took them near 90 miles to reach the rest of the fleet, who readily brought them all aboard and returned everyone home at the expense of their own voyages. Remarkably, not a single life was lost in this event. But all but one of the trapped whaleships were crushed by the ice. With the industry already staggered by the discovery of petroleum and by losses during the Civil War when Confederate raiders made a point to target the whaling fleet, this massive loss was the final nail in the coffin for American whaling. Beyond that event, wrecking in the ice became a fate for many a whaleship in the last couple decades of the 19th century.

#asks #awhalin #dancing-crow #long post //#animal death //#ok bedtime…

49 notes · View notes

whysodelirious08 · 2 years

Text

When He's Under You

- Sub!Eddie x Dom!Fem Reader

18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT!

_____

Pairing: Sub!Eddie x Dom!Fem reader

Summary: Eddie had been teasing you the entire trip and by the time tou got home you have had enough. So you decide some punishment and pleasure is called for.

TW: Swearing, dom female, save a horse, ride a cowboy 🤠 (jkjk), praise kink, edging, teasing, stern dom, kissing.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I know some people don't like Sub!Eddie and that's fine. But don't bother commenting anything about disliking it. I don't care. Were allowed options. Also hope people do enjoy and ignore any typos thanks.

Please do not translate my work or copy it to other platforms. Please respect my work. Thank you.

_____

Everyone within the friend group knew Eddie was the dominant one between the two of you, he'd order you to sit on his lap sometimes during D&D sessions and you had better move quickly lest he'd make a comment that made all the blood rush to your face in an instant. It had been a few years since Eddie graduated, the youngest of the group also having done so that year. It was fun to see Will, Mike, Dustin and Lucas grow into teens while you and Eddie grew into young adults. Still all of you got along well despite that you and Eddie had to work a lot to support yourselves.

Wednesdays were still for D&D and you and Eddie were heading back from a bit of a getaway trip with the rest of the group and then some. The group wanted to see some sights and play against some new found friends but the whole time Eddie had decided it would be fun to tease and taunt you ruthlessly. Thigh grabbing, neck kisses, whispering dirty things just loud enough for you to hear while everyone else remained oblivious. He had been pushing you into a corner the last four days and you have had enough. You were maybe ten minutes away from home and you had refused to speak with him the moment you two parted from the group hours ago.

"Sweetheart, come on. Talk to me?" He pleaded, his pillowy lips pouting a little as he tore his eyes from the road to snatch a glance at your expression, clearly hoping for some kind of crack in your resistance.

You moved to speak but promptly shut your mouth, biting the inside of your cheek, turning further away from Eddie if that was even possible. You took a long breath in through your nose, deliberately being loud to show you were no closer to being happy with him. It was especially annoying since the two of you couldn't get any alone time this entire trip, having to share a room with El and Mike, which was far, far worse. The guy snored like the rusty metal windmills you see on farms. The noise drove both of you insane, you had no idea how El slept through it.

As soon as the car came to a stop in the driveway you got out immediately, storming to the door and unlocking it. You made no effort to turn toward Eddie as he called your name, you just headed to the bedroom and stood by the bed.

"Y/n…I'm sorry alright?" Eddie pleaded in a soft voice, genuinely concerned he had fucked up the relationship now. But you just turned and faced him. You pointed to the bed with a stern glare.

"Undress. On the fucking bed. You think after the shit you pulled almost all week that I'd let you off?" You spat, you were pent up and annoyed, if the group only knew how Eddie actually liked to be submissive from time to time. You watched as Eddie got the hint and smiled just a little over the fact things were okay but it fell a bit when he realised he probably wouldn't get a break and would be punished in some way. You watched as Eddie undressed as he walked, sitting on the bed when he needed to pull his shoes and jeans off.

"Boxers too." You demanded and shut the bedroom door. You pulled off only your shoes. Still in your shirt and skirt and tights. You were going to make Eddie pay. You were never too harsh, but you'd make him beg for sure. You watched as his much larger structure laid on the bed. Naked. Waiting. Expecting. The sight alone made your thighs press together and your heart race. Fuck.

You walk over at an agonisingly slow pace, standing over him as your fingers traced his skin; collarbone to bellybutton. Just enough to not tickle. You noticed Eddie's breathing pick up slightly, the way he watched your every move, trying to predict what you would do next.

"How about I tell you what I could do to you?" You start, eyes locking on to his and watching him nod slowly, watching his already sore lip placed between his teeth.

Would walk around the frame of the bed, away from Eddie as you spoke. Putting some distance between you so he couldn't grab you at all. You didn't give him any options but to lay there and listen.

"I could…run my hands over your body, feeling every inch of you as I kiss. As I lick. As I bite. Leaving little reminders all down your body, some only you would see. I could gently tug on your nipple piercings just to hear you gasp in fear or pin your hands above your head while I grind my wet pussy into your throbbing dick?" You thought out loud, moving to the mirror as your hands followed the curves of your own body. Watching Eddie watch you. You could see the red in his cheeks, the slight squirm at your words, the way he was letting his thoughts wonder.

"Maybe if I straddled you? Bounced my tight pussy on your cock? Where you could see my tits bounce, where you could touch them? Would you like that? Like to hear me whisper your name?" You asked as you turned around, walked over and swatted his hand away from his semi-hard cock.

"No touching. Now, answering me. Would you like that?" You narrow your eyes. Purposely leaning down so your cleavage was showing, watching as he snatched a glance.

"Yeah" Eddie's words were nothing but a whisper. A gulp following at your smirk.

"Well. If you're good at the end. If you're begging with tears. I'll ride you." You told him, wanting to set some kind of expectation for him to follow. Your hand landed just above his knee, slowly dragging your fingers up until you could touch his dick if you wanted but you didn't. You moved your hand off completely. You heard Eddie groan in annoyance at the lack of relief. Instead you leaned down and placed a simple kiss on his lips, another and another until Eddie is leaning up to keep the kiss connected, you allow him this. The kiss was careful to start, almost as if he were scared at changing the pace in case you pulled away but you felt his tongue slowly glide across you lower lip and at first you deny him, pulling away for a moment before you kiss him with more need, more desperation, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and explore. You were getting hot and bothered yourself, wanting to straddle Eddie's thigh and use it to relieve the throbbing between your legs but you held back. You pulled away the moment Eddie's hands touched you.

"No touching. Not yourself. Not me. Not yet" you instructed softly, your hand caressing his cheek. You moved away and pulled your shirt off, slowly pushing your tights down as Eddie watched. You purposely bent over in a way that exposed your uncovered ass as the skirt slipped up onto your lower back. You were wearing a thong, Eddie's eyes catching the band of it which you noticed and wondered if he felt disappointed that you weren't naked under your skirt the entire ride. You unclipped your skirt and shuffled out of it, kicking it off to the side as you pulled your hair up into a messy ponytail.

"Look at you…already hard and dripping for me" you said in a sarcastically pitiful voice, your index finger just grazing his tip to catch a pearl of pre-cum. The action caused a whimper from Eddie and a smile from you. You pressed the liquid between your index finger and thumb before watching the string form as you separated them. Eddie watched your inspection all before you licked your finger and thumb.

"I'm going to use my mouth but if you touch me. I'll stop. And you're not allowed to cum. Only when I say. Understood?" You say as you climbed onto the bed and between his legs, he nodded frantically, clearly desperate for any kind of relief.

You accepted that answer and lowered your mouth to just above his tip, your breaths alone were enough to make him squirm and force himself not to buck his hips into you. You took him slowly; focusing on the tip with one hand and your mouth while the other cradled his balls. You would never tire of hearing his soft moans.

"Y/n" he moaned under his breath, eyebrows knitted together as you felt him slightly press up into your mouth to which you forced his hips down into the matress before returning your hand to the base of his cock. You continued to shove his cock down your throat, edging him closer as the moans became louder, the bedsheets in his fists while your careful practice made easy work of getting him up that hill. He was moaning your name, you were holding back in all honesty, just hearing Eddie moan your name made you almost orgasm. You were soaking, so much so the sheets under you were wet, and getting wetter.

"I'm c-close-!" Eddie whined and with that you pulled away, leaving his twitching cock cold and searching for your watering mouth. You watched as Eddie threw his head back in frustration, jaw clenched, teeth beared, a groan rumbling from his chest. You laughed softly, climbing over him but didn't sit to straddle him at all, remaining on all fours. You kissed him slowly, lightly, so light that it wasn't enough to get him worked up. You were waiting until he was back at the bottom of the hill. You didn't want him to finish yet.

"C'mon! Please- fuck!" His voice not as soft, not as quiet now. He was getting worked up but that's what you wanted. His brown, doe eyes looked at yours, searching for any kind of give but found none and was returned with just a smirk.

"You're going to help me now" You tell him and back up, straddling his thigh, holding onto the thigh you were straddling with one hand and your left hand on his other, stabilising yourself. Just any kind of friction was enough for you. You watched as Eddie realised how wet you were, how you were desperately rubbing against him. Your pulsing clit finally getting what it needed, your own soft moans started to show, Eddie could do nothing but watch. Your toes curled a little as you slowly dragged your sensitive clit against Eddie's almost bouncing thigh, trying to help you out just a little, just to hear your voice.

"Eddie- so good!" You praised, picking up your pace a little and your moans became louder, watching through your eyelashes as all he could do was lay there and watch you get your own release, a bittersweet view. You pressed yourself harder into his thigh, nails digging into his soft skin, enough to make Eddie groan so you knew it would bruise. You felt the building knot in your stomach snap, leaking cum onto Eddie's thigh. You hunched over as you tried to catch your breath, in front of you was Eddie twitching cock begging for some contact after your little show.

You pulled yourself off Eddie's thigh and the bed, removing the last of your clothing.

"Good boy~ so good for me. I'll give you a little bit of a reward hmm?" You hummed softly and climbed over him, rubbing his cock against your wet pussy, grinding slowly until you felt his hands on your thighs and you stopped.

"Uh-uh" you scolded and took his hands, leaning down so you were pinning them but that meant your tits were in his face. You slowly rolled your hips, picking up pace before slowing down repeatedly, you could tell he wanted to push in to you but you weren't allowing that yet. From this angle you could admire his teary eyes. His messy curls that clung to his sweaty forehead. Those lips. Those delicious lips you could kiss all day. You leaned down until your noses touched, your breaths synchronised as you stared into his eyes. The love you felt for this man was nothing like you had ever known. Just the thought alone was enough to bring you to tears.

"I love you…" You breathed out suddenly, you saw his eyes widen just a little. This wasn't the first time you had said it to each other but it might have well been. He leaned up to kiss you, so softly. So delicately. As if you'd shatter if he wasn't careful. And yet it was so full of love that he didn't need to say it back. You pulled your hips forward and moved one hand to line him up, quickly pushing yourself onto him which caused him to gasp and grip your one hand that was keeping his down. You leaned back up, pulling his hands to touch you, finally. You started slow though quickly picked up your pace while Eddie thrusted up to match. You peeked down at him to see him watching as your tits bounced, a hand moving to massage it and play with your nipple with his thumb.

"Just like that-" you told him, holding onto him as you hunched a bit, feeling your stomach starting to knot. You couldn't help but repeat his name. You were totally intoxiated; his touch, his voice. His scent. It was enough to drive you mad. At this point you didn't even care about punishment, you just wanted to finish with him. His whimpers grew louder as he pulled you down into a kiss, wanting more contact between you. His thrusts became sloppy and you could barely lift yourself off him as you both grew incredibly close to your ends. You moved to kiss him deeply, sloppily, passionately.

"Cum in me. Do it. Do it please" You breathed into the kiss, finding every strength in you to slam yourself down into him as you felt Eddie thrust into you. His hands on your hips, pushing you into his as the knot released and you found yourself in heaven, both your heads snapped back as you moaned, almost screaming at your shared release. You sat there before you slid into his arms, face nuzzled onto his neck. You could smell that cheap cologne he used and yet you liked it. You stayed like that for a while, him eventually pulling out and getting up to clean you both off. You flinched at the sensitivity as the cold flannel.

"Sorry love" he whispered before planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Tired, no. Exhausted, you both moved to get under the covers, snuggling in close.

"I'm never teasing you again" Eddie chuckled as he slapped your ass playfully. You smiled up at him and rolled your eyes before pulling the covers up further.

"And…I love you too" he added as he buried his face into your hair.

#fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #writing #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #fandom x reader #x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x dom!Fem #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #sub!eddie munson

362 notes · View notes

nicolesainz · 4 months

Text

Within the limits (Ben Chilwell x Jenson Button x OC) Chapter 6

Author’s note: First chapter of 2024!! Happy new year babes! So, unfortunately, the updates on the story won’t be very regular given it’s exam season and school is sucking the life out of me, but I will try my best to update as regularly as possible!

Warnings: fluff, angst

next chapter

“I am so on the Messi hype train. Can’t imagine how buzzed I was when France started missing the penalties at the World Cup.”

“I thought you’d be more of a Ronaldo girl, given you live in Manchester.”

“My parents house is in London. That’s where I grew up. I moved to Manchester in 2022.”

“So, here’s a question for you. Where does the name ‘Chelsea’ come from? When Mase told me I was shocked.”

“So, my dad is a massive fan of the club. Always attending the games whether that’s Premier League, FA cup, Carabao cup, Champions league games, name it. He has pictures of John Terry, Frank Lampard and Didier Drogba on his office walls and replicas of signed shirts.”

“And then you were born, giving your father the perfect opportunity to name you Chelsea.”

“Exactly.”

“The name really suits you. Royal blue vibes. Which leads me to my next question, which club do you support?”

The drive to Manchester was one of the most enjoyable I’ve ever had, with Ben on the line, talking about our lives and getting to know each other. I feel like it would’ve been better if we were face to face but things have their time.

He was so keen on getting to know me better and I was too. I’ve been a fan of his for so many years, something I haven’t admitted yet, and learning more things about his life brings a smile to my face.

“A professional never reveals their favorite team. I have to remain unbiased, impartial and fair to every team.”

“But now you’re not being fair! Come on, it’s just the two of us. I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

“Look, here’s a deal. If you score a goal at the next match that I will happen to commentate on, I will tell you my favorite club. Deal?”

“Fine, you win. A goal for the club it is. You have a deal.” I can hear him groaning annoyed at the offer I made.

Sometimes life is not jolly for footballers either.

“It was lovely talking to you Benjamin. I have to go now unfortunately, just arrived home and I need to prepare my notes for Manchester’s next game.”

“Oh yes, I fully understand. I enjoyed our conversation and getting to know you better. Talk to you later, blue.” I smile at the nickname ‘blue’. It’s not the usual ‘chels’ but I very much like it.

When I open the door I instantly kick off my shoes and drop on the couch as if I am a human slushee. Every inch of my body hurts. And my heart as well. How can Jenson say such nasty things in front of my face?

Does he think I’m a slut? After all we’ve confessed to each other? Do these ‘I love you’s mean nothing to him?

———————————————————————————-

“In two games we play against each other, come on let me score a goal!”

“I love you and I appreciate your effort but no. We’ve been on a massive losing strike and I should be the one asking you to let me score a goal.”

“What if we both score? Game ends up 1-1, shared points?”

“Score all the goals you want against Palace all you want tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be tuned in.”

“You can’t imagine how happy I was while we were talking. It felt good chatting again with a girl that was genuinely interested in getting to know me and not simply looking to fuck me.”

Being a footballer at the highest level, an England international and presumably one of the most handsome players in the league, can earn you the attention of many women. It’s just shame that most want to be with you simply for publicity reasons.

Chelsea was asking me questions that none of my previous girlfriends had ever bothered to ask me. What was my life in high school like? My favorite position to play in as a child? Favorite memory with friends from high school or teammates? I was stunned and touched by how much she was focused on detail.

“Chelsea is a good one. I’ll just warn you to be careful around the loverboy she’s with. Seems like a feisty one.”

“I wanna be her friend first and foremost. I want to get to know her and get close to her. It’ll be good to add another person to my inner circle and have a laugh with.”

Mason stops talking abruptly, I hear him opening his front door and quietly walking outside. He takes his keys with him and I am assuming he is afraid that something is going on.

"Everything okay mate?" I ask from the other line of the phone but Mason hushes at me really quickly.

"I can hear yelling from Chelsea's apartment. I can see two cars parked in front of her house, but I can't tell who is the person standing in front of her door."

"Is she alright? Is it her father?" worry rushes through me and my heartbeat is rising extremely fast.

"It looks like Jenson. Wait, I will call you back, I'm going here to help her get rid of him."

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

"I need to be alone right now Jense, what can't you understand?" It's incredible how I am literally begging for a few days of sanity.

"I can't live on the other side of England, knowing that my girlfriend is angry at me." The word 'girlfriend' almost made me throw up.

"I am not your girlfriend. You never asked me to be. You were the one who suggested we didn't put a label in our relationship and me being a classic idiot, I agreed" It should have been a warning sign that Jenson was not taking me as seriously as I thought.

"I thought that by saying 'I love you' to each other, this meant that our relationship was serious enough that we didn't have to labelize it."

"The moment you finally realise what I am to you, instead of just assuming, give me a call Jenson." I try to shut the door at his face but he holds it open with his arm. Fuck him.

"You have to be joking? Right? Come on Chels, don't act like a five year old." The moment those words left his mouth, I could have easily shed a river of tears but I had to show him that I wasn't as vulnerable as the current situation made me be.

Asking him to take me seriously is me acting like a kid? By that, he simply proves my point.

In the heat of the moment, before I could answer, Mason showed up, holding two bottles of wine, empty. I was kind of weird out by what he was trying to do. But I didn't question him.

"Hey, I am so sorry to interrupt, but you had promised to give me some of your cousin's wine. Guests are waiting." Mason said in a shyly manner, trying not to catch Jenson's attention too much.

"Oh yes, sorry, they are in my celery, let me bring them." I say, thankfully with the assistance of Mason and him using a very convincing lie.

"I will call you tomorrow Chelsea. You better pick up." Jenson's voice was extremely stern and all I did was nod to him. Not even a 'goodbye'. A simple head movement.

Jenson shut the door behind him and Mason let out a sigh of relief. He placed the bottles on the table and pulled out his phone to text someone, who ended up being Ben himself.

"Are you okay? The moment I heard screaming, I thought something was going on and we both got worried." My heart melted at the thought of two footballers and possible best mates of mine worrying about loud noises.

"Wait, who is we? Do you actually have guests?"

"No. I was on the phone with Ben when the yelling started. I told him about it and he got so worried that he was about to tell me to call the police."

Ben barely knows me 48 hours and yet he acts like the boyfriend Jenson isn't. Cares about me from distance and needs a double check from his friend.

"Thank you guys for everything. I don't know how to repay you. You saved a possible self invitation of Jenson at my house."

"It was nothing, Chels. We are friends. That's what we do. No need to repay us."

"Sure? If you need anything just tell me."

"Well, now that I am thinking about it, would you like to attend with me Chelsea vs Crystal Palace? Unless you're on the commentary box during the game."

"I won't be. Because the next day I will be commentating on United vs Fulham."

"Is that a yes then?"

"Definitely a yes!"

#ben chilwell x reader #jenson button x reader #ben chilwell #jenson button #formula 1 #football

12 notes · View notes

rjmartin11 · 10 months

Text

I'm Aaron

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Elvis & female!reader

Summary: You're a workaholic who decides to take a private mini vacation in Las Vegas. While there, you stumble into and befriend a handsome stranger at a bar. This handsome stranger is more than meets the eye. He wants to show you a great time... privately. It's an experience that you've never had before. You soon realize that you're in over your head, and your heart is falling fast.

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: Serious angst, sorrow, heartache, hope for the future.

Author's Notes: Welcome to Eleven! If you have made it this far, you guys are amazing! I appreciate all your support and love! If y'all love this chapter, like, comment, repost, and follow!

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

Wednesday just seemed to fly by. Elvis and you stayed in the suite half of the day talking about his final shows and ordering room service.

Elvis sensed a change in your demeanor. You were quieter than usual, and let him do most of the talking. When Elvis inquired about the change in you, you insisted nothing was further from the truth. You'd smile at him, then kiss and hug him to reassure him.

You try to mask your true feelings from him. You do your best to keep a smile on your face. You steal a kiss from him every now and again.

You embrace him deeply, trying to memorize every part of him. His manly musk and Old Spice scent. His fine black hair. His cerulean eyes shined like sea. The feel of his soft skin. The bass of his Southern drawl and how it rumbled in his chest. His boisterous laugh. The way he felt inside you. The taste of his pouty lips. Oh, how you love him. Would Elvis understand how much?

Elvis had two shows Wednesday evening, and you were his special guest of honor. You sat with Lucy and Penny during both shows. You did your best to distance yourself from the other Mafia wives who just saw you as another notch in Elvis' bedpost. You became very friendly with Lucy and Penny. Although you were still suspicious of Penny, you remained as kind as possible.

During intermission, Joann came to the table to give her sincerest apologies for Pam's behavior. You told Joann that you weren't angry at her, and she shouldn't be apologizing for the actions of others. You had respect for Joann because she was kind and courteous. There was a very strong loyalty within Elvis inner circle. You respected that.

The second show flew by, and Elvis shined brighter than the sun itself. Where on Earth did he get all that energy?

The ladies and you sat bar side as you waited for Elvis to appear at the after party. The three of you discussed the differences and similarities of the two shows of the evening. Which suit you enjoyed more. You personally love the black jumpsuit. It was edgy, exciting, and sexy just like him. The thought of him thrusting on stage made your heart palpitate and pussy throb. How can you leave him?

"Y/N, is everything okay?" Lucy asked, gently rubbing your shoulder. "You seem upset."

"Just... thinking." You responded.

"May I ask what about? You look so sad."

It was just you and Lucy. Penny and Joann went to get another drink from the bar. You felt like you could trust Lucy. She was the closest thing you had to a friend in Vegas. You hadn't bothered calling Jill back, and Lucy knew more about Elvis.

"Lucy, Elvis asked me to move with him to Memphis last night."

Lucy's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped low from the shock of your revelation.

"Really? What did you say?" She asked.

"He stopped me before I could say anything. He told me to think about it, but my mind is made up." You paused.

"Well, don't leave me hanging. Are you coming to Memphis?"

"I can't, Lucy. I still have some...things to figure out back in Atlanta."

"Things? Is there someone else?"

"No," you shake your head. "Elvis is the only one."

"Then why not come to Memphis? You'd love it. Live music is everywhere. The best barbecue in the South."

"You're really laying it on thick, huh?" You asked Lucy.

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I could use another friend."

A smirk graced her face, and she took a sip from her glass. You do enjoy your time with Lucy. Although she seemed quiet, she was fun, knowledgeable, and kind. She didn't place herself with the mixture of the Mafia wives and girlfriends because she knew of their drama. She trusted a few people and not everyone. Lucy believed in telling people what they needed to hear, not what they wanted to hear. She didn't gossip or spread rumors, which made her a great asset to the group. Lucy knew there was something between me and Elvis, which is why she told me about his ex-girlfriends and ex-lovers.

"I guess I could always use another friend, too," you say, smiling.

"So you'll come to Memphis?!?"

"I didn't say that, Lucy."

"Y/N." Lucy beseeched me.

You shake your head. You can't believe she really wants you to stay with Elvis. Drop everything you know in Atlanta and move. Maybe this was a sign that you should stay with Elvis. Maybe.

The next second, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn around, and it's Jerry.

"Hi, Jerry."

"Hey, Y/N." Jerry says.

"Oh, I see how you do me." Lucy stated. "Brush me off for another woman right in front of me. That's what we're doing now?"

You widened your eyes. What did he do? Jerry had a smile on his face the whole while. He leans over and gives Lucy a kiss.

"Hey, baby. You look gorgeous tonight. That dress on you is spectacular." Jerry replied.

"Oh, this old thing?" Lucy smirked.

These two were too cute for words. Lucy and Jerry had their own secret love language. Jerry looks back at you and says.

"Elvis wants to see you privately, Y/N."

"Okay. I'll see you later, Lucy." You say your goodbyes, and Jerry escorted you out of the after-party and to another room.

Jerry opened the door for you to this other room on the penthouse floor. It's the only room you've never been in on the whole wing. Elvis sees you walking in. A giant grin covers his face, and he walks over to you, planting kisses on your face. You giggle at the gesture.

"Your shows were amazing tonight, E! I had so much fun." You say, hugging him back.

"Thank you, Y/N/N, baby."

When you opened your eyes, you realized you two were not alone. You slowly released Elvis and backed away.

"Y/N/N, I want you to meet someone." Elvis steps to the side, and you get a better view of this older gentleman.

The gentleman was Elvis' height with fine white hair and a thin salt and pepper mustache. He dressed well. He had a warm smile, which brought you comfort because you were alarmed by his presence.

"Y/N, this is my father, Vernon Presley. Daddy, this is Y/N."

Oh, his father. You started to laugh a little bit. You placed your hand on your stomach while Elvis held your other hand.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Presley. It-it's nice to meet you." You choke out.

"It's nice to meet you as well, honey." Vernon steps forward and offers you his hand. You accept it gladly.

You look into Vernon's eyes and smile. For their the same eyes as Elvis. It's Vernon you have to thank for the beauty of your love.

"Elvis has your eyes, sir."

"Well, Gladys' eyes were brown, so I guess he does have my eyes."

"I'm sure you get it all the time."

"Not too often, but thank you for noticing."

"Y'all hungry, or is it just me?" Elvis asked.

"I could eat." You interject.

The three of you eat together and talk over dinner. Vernon was a bit quiet but spoke when he was asked a question. You noticed when Elvis and Vernon make eyes at one another during dinner like there was a secret going on between them. You didn't fixate on the matter with the thought of leaving Elvis in less than two days.

After dinner, you and Elvis bid Vernon a goodnight. Then, without anyone noticing, you both sneak into his suite to spend some quality time together.

Elvis takes you into his arms and plants a kiss on your forehead. Then, your right cheek. Then your left cheek. He kisses the tip of your nose, and finally, he kisses your lips. The butterflies start to flutter in the pit of your stomach.

Elvis slowly moves away from your lips and gazes into your eyes. He still holds you close.

"Baby, is everything okay?" Elvis asks, cupping your face.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine. Why do you ask?" You inquire.

"Something. I don't know, baby. You seem... distant."

You guess you're not that great of an actress after all. You smile away the tension you feel at this current moment and try to catch those butterflies that he gave you a moment ago. You kiss him back once more and cup his face.

"Nonsense. Do you know how happy you've made me in the last week? I feel like I view life through a different lens now because of you. I'm so grateful."

"How grateful, Y/N/N?" Elvis asks, rubbing your back.

"Should I show you?" You whisper.

"Please show me."

You raise his neck and start slowly kissing him. You feel his heart racing as he laces his hands in your curls. He breathes rapidly, and you both collapse on the bed.

Elvis rolls on top of you and kisses you deeply, passionately. You unbutton his shirt and run your hands over his tanned chest. Then you unbuckle his belt. Elvis slides his hand down between your legs and into your sacred place.

You jerk your head back, trying to catch your breath. You slip your hand into Elvis' pants and stroke his hardened cock. Elvis moans at your gesture. You take this opportunity to turn him over by way of interwoven your legs. You flip yourself, where you are saddled on top of Elvis. Elvis cups your face with one of his hands. You kiss the palm of his hand and smile.

You begin to undress yourself.

"You're my brave girl, aren't you? You ain't nervous to be bare in front of me, are ya, baby?"

"Not one bit," you say, removing your dress completely and tossing it to the side.

You gently place yourself on top of Elvis' penis. You slowly grind on top of him, and Elvis firmly grips your sides, gently hoisting you up and down on his dick. You both moan off beat as you rise up and down on his cock. In a pleasure filled state, Elvis rolls his eyes closed.

"No, E. Look at me." You say, placing your hands on his face to get his attention. You lean your head against his forehead and whisper. "Your eyes are bluer than the heavens in the month of May. More... clearer than any ocean. Huh. You light up my life, Elvis."

You see tears spring from his eyes. He feels marvelous. The next moment, Elvis raises you onto his lower stomach, cumming all over himself. You cum where he placed you on his lower stomach. You both catch your breath as you are spent in each other. You find yourself in Elvis' embrace. He kisses your lips so softly.

"Y/N, baby, that was so amazing, and what you said... that was sweet. No one's ever described my eyes that way." Elvis says.

"I meant every word."

Elvis kisses your temple, lays his head back, and closes his eyes. After a moment, you hear him lightly breathing, and you know he's asleep. You lay your head on his chest and listen to the rhythm of his heart. It brings you comfort, but the more you listen to it, the more you believe his heart beats in sync with your own. No, that can't be, you think. How can that be?

You look up at the clock. You notice it's after midnight. It's Thursday. You have one more day to be with Elvis. Time seems to be against you. It's like you're living in an hourglass, and you can see the grains of sand pour to the bottom.

You feel the tears burn your eyes, and you softly pat your damp face. You can't cry. Not now. You decide to go and take a shower. Maybe the warm water could bring you some comfort.

You quietly get out of bed and head towards the bathroom.

"Baby, where you going?" Elvis awakens from your absence in the bed.

You stop short at the sound of his voice. You don't turn around for fear that he'll see your tear stained face.

"I'm just going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep." You tell him.

You turn on the shower and jump in. You don't really care about the temperature of the water. You want to release the tension you're feeling. You start to cry as the water hits your toes. You feel like the walls of the hourglass are closing in, and the sand is speeding faster than water to the bottom. That fragile glass is cracking before you.

So many questions flood your mind, such as:

How can I leave him?

How will I tell him?

If I break his heart, shall I also break my heart in the process?

How can I go back to a life without love?

Suddenly, you hear the door open to the bathroom. You quickly rinse away your tears, allowing the water to run over your face. Hopefully, clearing your eyes from the redness of your tears.

"Y/N/N, baby, you've been in here a while. You okay?" Elvis asks outside the shower door.

"I'm almost done, E."

Elvis opens the door to look at you. He politely glares at your body up and down as the water covers you from head to toe.

"May I join you?" He asks.

"I won't stop you."

Elvis climbs in the shower with you and kisses you. He puts his head back in the shower spout, allowing the water to soak his body. Then he kisses you again. You both stare at each other for a moment. Fearing you may start to cry again, you gently hug Elvis. Elvis holds you closely, rubbing your back as the warm water runs over your bodies.

"Elvis?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Should I be cruel to a heart that's true?" Elvis asks, holding her face between hands.

You lightly shake your head no and smile.

"Y/N, you have the prettiest brown eyes I've ever seen." Elvis says.

"There's nothing special about my eyes."

"That's not true. I see you. I see the beauty in your gentle soul. You light up my life, Y/N."

You smile, and Elvis kisses you again. You both spend the next five minutes in the shower cleaning each off. You dry off each other and head back to bed. Elvis wraps his arms around you, holding you until he falls asleep. Your nerves are still on end, and you barely catch a wink. One more day. One more day, with your love. You cuddle up closely to Elvis and drift off to sleep.

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

Thursday was pacing by agonizingly slow. Elvis kissed your face continually, trying to get your attention.

"Morning, Y/N/N." He whispers in your ear. "Wake up, please. I wanna spend a few minutes with you before I go."

You smile at him, blinking your eyes open.

"Morning, E," you yawned, quickly covering your morning breath.

Elvis moved your hand away from your mouth, intertwining your fingers together, and slowly placed his lips on top of yours.

"Hmm... you are so sweet." You spoke with a groggy voice. "Did you say you had to go?" You tried clearing your throat to speak more clearly.

"Yeah, I gotta do rehearsal for the last show tomorrow night." Elvis dipped his head in the nook of your neck.

Damn. Your flight is on Friday afternoon at 5 p.m. His first show is at 10 p.m.

No, Elvis, please don't talk about tomorrow, you think, holding onto him. Tomorrow I leave you. Let's focus on today. Today, the sun is shining and bright. Today, you are in my arms, and I'm in yours. Tomorrow I won't be. Tomorrow, my arms will be empty with nothing but my bags as I board a plane and leave you. Let's speak of today. Your eyes are clear today. Tomorrow, they will be sad and gray. Let's just stay in today.

Your thoughts get the best of you and you comb your fingers through his hair. "Elvis Aaron, let's talk about what we'll do today, huh?"

Elvis looks at your face, confession covers his features.

"Baby, are you crying?"

You quickly wipe your face.

"No, E. My allergies are catching up with me."

"Allergies?"

"Yeah, my nose gets runny and my eyes water. It's also a sign of me waking up. I just hope I don't start sneezing." You lie.

You lie your ass off. You just want to enjoy your last day with Elvis. You know if you discuss it or bring it up, you'd be crying all day, and he'd talk you into going home with him.

"Do I need to get one of the guys to go to the store to getcha some allergy pills?" Elvis asks.

"Oh no, Elvis. I have some in my luggage."

Damn the luggage. Not the next thought you wanted to have.

"Well, baby. After I'm done with sound check and rehearsal, I'm all yours for the rest of the day. What should we do?" Elvis asks, laying down beside you as he props his head up on his hand. "Do you wanna go back to the Golden Steer? Stuffed mushrooms sound good."

"Or we can order room service? They have some great stuffed mushrooms and pasta. I'm craving pasta."

"Okay. We can do that. Sounds great." Elvis smiles and pecks your lips. "Now I need to go get ready."

Elvis scurried away from the bed to get dressed, and you sit up on the bed waiting patiently. Elvis takes about ten minutes to look his best, and that doesn't take much because he's gorgeous. He looks at you with those baby blues, and you smile. Elvis still manages to make you smile. He still has the power to make your heart flutter. It has only been six days after all. He gives you one last kiss before he leaves and exits the suite.

You exhale that breath that you were holding in. You get out of bed and get ready for the day. You take another shower, brush your teeth, and do your hair. You can't bear to look at yourself in the mirror for your morning affirmations. The only words that come to mind are fool and coward.

You leave the bathing room and put your clothes on. You grab your bag and search for your plane ticket for Atlanta. You find it in the your the lining of your luggage and look at the ticket fully. It reads:

From Las Vegas, Nevada to Atlanta, Georgia. 5 P.M. departure.

You sit back on the floor and clutch the ticket to your heart. You contemplate your situation. You play with the pros and cons over and over again in your head.

Con: We just met six days ago.

Pro: He's a sweetheart.

Con: He lied to me the first night we met.

Pro: He wanted me to get to know him as a man and lover. Not a singer. Not an entertainer.

Con: He has old girlfriend issues.

Pro: It seems that he makes me his priority.

Con: Quitting my job for a man I just met.

Pro: He'll take care of me.

Con: I'm too young.

Pro: I love him.

These run in your head over and over again. It all runs to you loving him, yet you fear this love is unrequited. Yes, he's a great lover and friend, but neither of you established yourselves as a couple.

You ultimately decide it's best to leave him and get your life together. How can you start a life with Elvis when you personally don't have all your ducks in a row?

If you love someone, you must let them go. If they come back to you, they are yours. If they don't, it was never meant to be. You think.

Elvis has to trust that you are making the right decision. This is the toughest decision you've ever made. You keep questioning yourself because you found the love you've dreamed of and prayed for.

But who falls in love in a week? Something that begins so suddenly can end just as quickly. You don't want that. You just need time. If Elvis cares even one tenth about you, he will understand. Maybe even one day he can love you as much as you love him.

After you finish contemplating your pros and cons, you decide to take a nap. You laugh at the other pros and cons that didn't matter as much like:

Cons: No sex

Pros: Elvis will rock your world.

Cons: Mafia Wives

Pros: Lucy

Even Lucy tried to convince you that Memphis was a great place to live.

You don't think on Memphis too much as sleep starts to invade your idled brain. You don't fight it. You allow it to take over you. Sleeping is better than crying your worries away. It's better than crying yourself into hysteria or a headache. You'll tell Elvis over dinner.

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

You feel the touch of his soft lips on your cheek and warmth cascades over your body. You smile, opening your eyes to see Elvis' handsome face. He smiles back, kissing your nose.

"Hey, baby."

"Hey, E." You answer him. "How was rehearsal?"

"It went great. Everyone is on their best behavior. They know where they need to be. It's going to be great. I'm excited."

"I hear it in your voice." You say, raising from where you lay.

"I'm starving. You ready to order room service, Y/N?"

"Yes, I'm hungry."

You both order room service. In the next fifteen minutes, your dinner has arrived at the suite. Two plates of pasta with chicken and a large order of stuffed mushrooms. You both agreed that you'd get dessert after dinner.

You both eat your dinner on the floor where you ate your breakfast the other morning. You engage in deep conversation, and you speak as if nothing is wrong. Elvis speaks on your mood. You tell him that you just needed to eat something and assure him you feel much better.

"Good thing, baby. Cause I was worried." He tells you.

"I never meant to worry you. There's no reason to worry." You tell him as you take his hand.

"I'm glad to know that." Elvis leans in and kisses you. "I can't wait to show Memphis, baby. I can't wait to show you Graceland! You'll love it."

"Tell me more about Graceland. Please." You ask him, sliding over to Elvis and placing your head on his head.

"Well, it my little patch of heaven. I bought the house for my mama because she loved the old Southern charm of it all. I loved how it was gated and was bigger than the shotgun house I was born in."

"Tell me more. Tell me everything." You want to know even if it stings.

"When you come off the road, you turn into the metal gates that have music note on them. The gates open to this a long driveway surrounded by several beautiful live oak trees. You see the house in the distance."

"What's the house look like?"

"It's a large cobblestone estate with green shutters on the windows. The front of the house has four large pillars holding it up. At the top of the pillars, where the attic is, sits a mini window on the triangle frame. There are hedges in front of the first-floor windows on either side. The stairs in front are guarded by two classic lion statues on both sides. A stain glass window above the door with roses and the letter P in the middle. Nothing to special about the front door itself. The handle is unique. It's golden, and you use your thumb to open the door."

"What's on the other side of the door?" You ask, holding his hand.

"White carpet graces the halls. From the front door to the living room on your right and to the dining room on your left. If you look up, you'll see the chandelier. There's a fireplace.The curtains are a royal blue with gold trim. I have a music room that goes beyond the living room with a piano. Before you reach the dining room, you'll see the staircase that leads to my room. Our room."

You look up at Elvis, and he smiles at you.

"Our room?" You ask. "Is our room pretty?"

"It's magnificent. The bigger room in the house. The biggest bed you've ever seen."

"It's bigger than this bed?" You point at the bed you both currently sleep in.

"Bigger. With satin sheets." Elvis says, kissing the top of your head.

You love this man. You want to go with him to Graceland so badly. You pray he'll understand your plea, and he forgives you. The next moment, the two are falling to sleep in each other's arms.

Friday, the next morning.

You awaken in a stupor. You feel so numb and sad. Elvis unwrapped his arms from around you in the middle of the night, making your getaway easy.

You slipped out of bed and headed to the shower. You take a quick shower, trying to find the right words to take Elvis. This isn't going to be easy or simple. Again, you're unable to look in the mirror. You put your clothes out last night to wear them today. You dress yourself and head out to the sofa by the television.

You sit there in silence with your bags in front of you. You try to relax yourself as Elvis sleeps. You pray that everything will turn out for the best. You hear Elvis wake up, but you don't look over at him.

"Y/N? Baby?" He calls for you.

"I'm here, Elvis." You answer him.

Elvis looks over at you, but you don't look back. He grunts and gets out of bed, heading over to you.

"Baby, what are you doing over here?"

"I..." You pause. You realize this is it. The truth is coming out. "I have a plane to catch."

"What? Y/N, we don't leave for Memphis until tomorrow morning."

"I can't go with you to Memphis, Elvis." You say, tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Why not?" Elvis asked.

"We just met a week ago, and I still have some growing up to do myself. If anything you taught me, it's I can be on my own and live life to the fullest."

"No, baby, you're running. You're running away from me. Why? What are you so afraid?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm not running."

"Yes, Y/N/N, you are. You're running away. Why, baby? Why are you running away from me?"

"Because I love you!" You shout at Elvis.

You cover your mouth at your confession. You're shocked at your own words, yet you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. It feels good to get the truth out instead of concealing it from him. You feared the profession of your love to Elvis would scare him away, but perhaps your confession will allow him to let you go. It will break your heart, but it's time to get back to reality from this week long daydream.

You continue to be as honest as you can with him, tears steady flowing down your cheeks.

"I love you, Elvis Aaron. So much. You are amazing and beautiful inside and out. You are fun and exciting and a little dangerous. You're addicting too. The love I feel for you is irrevocable. Elvis, after spending so much time with you. I realize, in fact, you are a king."

Elvis' eyes are wet, but he shakes his head at your last statement.

"No, Y/N. I'm not..." Elvis starts.

"If you heard what I said." You interrupt him, lightly placing your index finger over his mouth. "I said a king. Not the king. We both know who the true king of kings is. But in the world of men, there are kings. Men who walk proudly but not in vain. Like you. You give with your heart and soul. Like when we went shopping the other day. You gave that homeless man money because you knew he was in need. You weren't too proud to help someone less fortunate than you. You didn't do it because you are this big mega star. You are humble and kind. You give of yourself, and put others before yourself. These are traits that make you a true king amongst men. All the reasons I've fallen in love with you."

Elvis smiles and shakes his head at you.

"I love you too, Y/N/N. I loved you the first night we met. You let me in your heart when you thought I was just a regular security guard."

You laugh with joy as more tears fall from your eyes. Elvis continues to speak.

"If you love me so much, Y/N/N, why aren't you coming with me?" He asked.

"I need to go back home, Elvis. To get myself straight, and I'll come back to you. I promise. I found that the safest place is in your arms. I will write to you. My love."

Elvis grabs you and kisses you with so much passion that you nearly pass out. Your heart swoons.

"You will come back to me, won't you, baby? You will come to me in Memphis?" Elvis asks, partial fear shadowing his voice.

"I will. I promise."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @plasticfantasticl0ver @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @thememphisflash1935-1977 @c-rosenn @vintageshanny @iloveelvis

#elvispresley #elvis fans #elvis x reader #romance #elvis #vegas #elvis x y/n #70s elvis #ElvisPresleySeries #ElvisSmut #i'm aaron

19 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

Text

Survivor Blues

SIMILAR SCARS : TOMMY’S POV

A/N: Hi friends! I hope you’re all having a great weekend and doing well. First of all, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read and commented on this story thus far - your support means the world to me! Secondly, I am so darn sorry that this story has taken such a long break. It was completely unintentional and in no way indicative of how excited I am to be writing it. That being said, it is officially back in action effective immediately, and I am pumped to share this part of it. I really enjoyed getting inside Tommy’s head, so I hope you like it, too. This is the second interlude within the main story of Survivor Blues, and should be read between Part Three & Part Four.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: language, character death, loss, grief, trauma, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions

Summary: When you mention that you recently lost your nephew, Tommy understands all too well what you’re going through.

On the morning that he was scheduled to meet you at the stables to take you out on your first trail sweep, Tommy had the alarm clock beat by nearly an hour.

Knew I wasn’t gonna need it when I set it.

Right arm bent with that hand stuffed under his pillow, he stared up at the ceiling as the bedroom slowly filled with light. His eyes followed the spidery line of a crack he’d been meaning to repair - and that Maria had been jokingly threatening to hire a professional for.

“I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind taking care of it,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye and a playful smirk pulling at her lips.

“I’ll get to it this weekend, woman,” he grumbled back through a grin, kissing the corner of her mouth.

That had been three weekends ago, the crack lengthening by a few millimeters since then. Shit, I really have to do something about that ‘fore she does get Joel over here. I’d never hear the end of it. From either of ‘em.

There was no shortage of small emergencies or other things around Jackson that took priority though, and there were still only twenty four hours in a day, so Tommy knew that Maria understood when smaller issues slid under the radar. She was equally busy and constantly being pulled in different directions herself, the responsibilities of running a town stretching endless just like the crack above their heads. But she pulls it off. We pull it off together.

Tilting his chin, he looked down through his lashes at his wife, a warm surge of affection, appreciation and pride swirling in his chest. I love this woman with everything I got. In sleep, she had rolled onto her side, shifting close enough for Tommy to loop his left arm loosely around her shoulders, one of hers thrown over his middle. There were only a few minutes left before the alarm was set to sound, but he still tried not to wake her as his fingertips ghosted along the skin of her bicep. Gotta rest when we can.

Like everyone that had survived as long as they had, they both had plenty of things to keep them up at night. Or wake them well before their alarms.

That morning - that whole week - for him, it was Sarah.

Actually, it was you. It was what you’d said your first night in town, sitting at one of the tables in the community center. It was how you’d said it - and what it immediately made him feel.

It was what it shook loose in his heart.

A long sigh left his lungs empty. Removing his hand from under the pillow and scrubbing it down over his face, he took a slow breath to fill them again, recalling the look you wore and the broken sound of your voice when you said that you’d lost your nephew. A kid. She lost a kid. When you said that you were alone. And she had no one to…

It sliced at him, knowing how much a loss like that hurt, knowing what it felt like to try to process something like that. Shit. For years I didn’t fuckin’ process it at all. Tommy knew what it was like to suffer a loss like the one that you had recently suffered, and then shove it down and hold it in and seal it off until it turned toxic. Until it consumed you.

That was what losing Sarah had done to him. It’s what it had done to Joel. And though the two of them spent the first decade after the outbreak together, in all that time they never did talk about the most devastating loss either of them would ever feel. Not in any meaningful way. And it… it tore us apart. Made us ugly. Made us… made us into monsters that Sarah wouldn’t even recognize.

Tommy had watched his older brother go from a carefree teenager to a responsible, stretched-too-thin-but-damned-if-he’s-not-trying single father when he was essentially still a kid himself. He watched Joel work overtime and pick up odd jobs to make ends meet, trade in weekends spent with friends at football tailgates for trips to the park or the zoo with his daughter, and he watched the way he beamed whenever he talked about his baby girl.

And then she was just gone. And in almost every way that mattered, so was Joel. And Tommy lost both of them.

A hollow, hopeless feeling had taken hold of him as he stood in that field, choking on his brother’s name in response to the hysterical pleas for help that he was powerless to give. Because I knew. I knew there was nothin’ I could do and-

And I should have run faster. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have taken the shot from further away, before that asshole had the chance to-

Those were the thoughts he’d spent years fighting back. That was the guilt that he bent beneath, that he carried with him every step he took. That feeling that he could have - should have - somehow been able to change the outcome, that he had somehow failed his brother and his niece. That-

That it should have been me if it had to be any of us.

They still crept up on him from time to time, those dark, painful thoughts. That sharp, jagged guilt still cut. The echoes of the night Sarah died still haunted him. But the ghosts that swirled in his chest and gathered in his throat to make it hard to breathe were interrupted that particular morning by the curl of Maria’s fingers against his side.

It had taken him the better part of twenty years and falling in love with the most stubborn, determined, compassionate woman he’d ever met, but Tommy was finally able to forgive himself for surviving. He knew, though, that had more to do with having Maria in his life than the amount of time that passed. Because she… He opened his eyes and cast them down at her again as she shifted, inhaling a slow breath through her nose as his t-shirt wrinkled beneath her cheek. She brought me back to life. Tilting his chin, he buried his lips in her hair, kissing the crown of her head. Showed me bein’ here was still worthwhile. Showed me how to do more than survive.

It had been at Maria’s urging that he finally opened up about losing Sarah. That he finally grieved and mourned and set free all of the things he’d forced himself to hold inside. She let him share his agony and his rage with her, opened her arms and took as much of it from him as she could. And then she urged him to move forward.

“Tommy.” She muttered his name without lifting her cheek or opening her eyes, but he felt her slide her hand up his side to settle on his chest. Instinctively, the arm he already had around her drew her in closer to his body, the other dropping down to join it as he hummed a response. “You’re awake.” I am. Her palm moved slowly over the cotton of his tee to rest over his heart as he pressed another kiss to her forehead, this one lingering. “You have been for a while.” I have.

“Well, good mornin’ to you, too.” He swung for humor and missed, letting out a sigh when her only response was to lift her face to look at him. No use in sugarcoating it, not with her. It was one of the things he loved most about his wife - that she preferred to handle things head on, even early in the morning. “Yeah.” He nodded as he reached to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’ve been up. Got some things on my mind I guess.”

Eyes on him, she leaned into his touch, letting his hand curve around the side of her head as she nodded against his palm. “I know.” Of course you do. “I saw your face in the community center the other night, Tommy.” She pushed herself up so that she was resting her weight on one elbow, the other arm still slung over his chest as his hand dropped down to her back. “I know what she said about her nephew… I know you’re thinking about Sarah.”

Right to the chase, no bullshit. He swallowed, lips twitching between a thin smile for how readily she understood him and a slight frown for the pang of heartache he felt whenever he thought of his niece. “Just… reminded me of how hard it was. To be so… so alone with all’a that.” Shit. He closed his eyes, the lids wrinkling as a wave of emotion made him clench them even more tightly.

“Hey.” Maria spoke, fingertips coming up to trace the arch of his brow. He opened his eyes at her touch, just in time to see her gently shake her head from side to side. “You’re not alone with it anymore, right?”

Tommy glanced over to the bedside table. The alarm clock was still waiting to sound, but that wasn’t where his focus fell, straying instead to the other item that stood there. It was a framed photo - one of himself, Joel, and Sarah, the girl wearing a medal around her neck and holding a soccer ball, laughter and happiness frozen on all of their faces, his and Joel’s looking 20 some odd years younger. Though it was under glass now, there were creases that he could still see from where the picture had been bent and folded from living in his pocket the whole trek up from Texas, spots where the color had faded with age and exposure. But it was and always would be one of his most cherished possessions. My family. He brought his focus back to his wife. Our family.

“No.” He answered. “I’m not.”

“You should talk to her,” she suggested. “You’re takin’ her through a sweep today, right?” You know I am. He nodded. “Let her know she doesn’t need to be alone with it either. I tried to... When I was showing her her new place? I… ” She sighed, sadness clouding her expression for a second, and Tommy knew that it was because even though she’d never met the girl, Maria also mourned for Sarah. Her heart ached for Tommy and for Joel and for the girl that never got to grow up before their eyes. “I think it would mean more comin’ from you, though.”

Is that a good idea? He’d been wondering the same thing, but had been unsure of how to broach the topic without opening the book on his brother’s history, too. “You… you think?”

“I do.” Maria’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “You… I’m sure you understand what she’s goin’ through.”

Tommy sighed. “I dunno, Maria, I- Joel still doesn’t really talk about her much, ‘specially not to people he doesn’t know, and I don’t want to-”

She didn’t let him continue, her tone not angry but firm as she cut him off. “You lost her, too, Tommy. You went through that pain, too, and I understand you wanting to respect Joel’s space and not wanting to tell his story. I do.” For all the bristling she did towards his brother when they first met, Tommy knew that his wife had come to love Joel. And Ellie. “But you can certainly tell yours. And Tommy?” She paused and he felt her eyes sweep over his face before she continued, letting her fingers comb through his hair. “I think it’ll be good for you to talk about it too, it’s not just for her.”

He stared back at her in silence for a beat wondering how on Earth she always knew the right thing to say. How she was always able to ground him and guide him, even when he didn’t know he’d started drifting. When he did speak, he blew out a short amused breath, narrowing his eyes. “Where do you get off bein’ right all the damn time, woman? Huh?”

She smiled warmly, faint wrinkles gathering in the corners of her eyes and around the edges of her mouth. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.” He watched the light in her expression shift from comforting to teasing, and then before she even moved, he knew she was about to flick her gaze upwards. “Speaking of tough jobs,” she proved him right, looking up above their heads and using the hand that had been on his chest to point at the ceiling. “I really will get Joel over here to patch that up if you don’t d-”

His arms enveloped her then, folding her close to his chest so that her laughter was swallowed up as he flipped her onto her back. “You better not say a word to him about that, or-”

The tinny sound of the alarm clock cut through the rest of his empty threat, and it died on his lips as Maria reached over to silence it. Tapping his arm, she gave him a sleepy smile. “Time to get up, c’mon.”

Instead of rolling over immediately though, he looked down at the woman who had revived his heart, who had helped him find reasons to keep going, who had made him happier than he ever imagined possible, and before the two of them surrendered to the start of the day, untangling from each other and rising from the bed to tend to their daily responsibilities, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her deeply.

Pulling back slowly, he nudged the tip of her nose with his. “Thank you.” He leaned forward to brush his lips along her temple, and though his next words were muffled by her skin, he knew she heard them. “You know what for.”

For loving me. For letting me in. For accepting all the shit I’ve done. For trusting me. For everything.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him there for the length of a few breaths, then turned her cheek so that she could press it to his bearded one. “Anytime, handsome.” She squeezed, and he heard one more word slip out before she let go. “Always.”

When she tapped his bicep again, Tommy moved aside so that she could get up, and with a handful of yawns and a few cracks from achy joints, the two of them started their day.

– – – –

He waited until the two of you had made it out to the turnaround point to say anything that wasn’t directly related to trail patrol protocol.

Until then, you’d been fairly quiet, only answering his questions and asking the few that you had along the way. Though he’d been focused on assessing your capability to join the patrol team - which he determined you’d be a good fit for - he was also trying his best to gauge what your reaction might be to what he was about to bring up. Because even though he agreed with Maria, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot. This is a big fuckin’ gamble, but… He lifted his eyes from his hands where he was shucking his gloves, bringing them up to watch you sign your name and his in the logbook that sat on the dusty table in the dining room of the safe house. But I think it’s the right move.

“Under the notes column I just wrote all clear,” you said, using the pen to point at the page with a shrug. “Looks like that’s what other people wrote, so I figured-”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded, tucking his gloves in his jacket pocket. Using the toe of one boot, he hooked a chair leg and dragged it out before sinking into the seat with a sigh. “You see any infected you just write how many and where and if you took ‘em out or…” He trailed off as you flipped through the log, the pages crinkling as you turned them.

Your eyes caught on a specific entry and widened slightly, and before he could wonder which it was, you read it aloud. “9/7/2036 - Joel and Tommy - 3 clickers in garage on Frontier Rd. - killed all 3.” Oh, that one. Returning to the current page, you set the pen down like a bookmark and looked up at him as you pulled out a chair for yourself. “Doesn’t sound fun.”

He blew out a burst of air and shook his head. “It wasn’t.” Because we didn’t see the third one until we were already in there and… He cleared his throat and blinked away the memory. Doesn’t matter now. “It’s not common, runnin’ into that many of ‘em this close to town. But we like to keep it that way so when we can, we put ‘em down.” You nodded, a small furrow deepening in your brow. “If we can’t? Too many or…” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “We do the smart thing, and we log it so we can keep track of where we know they are until we can come up with a plan for dealing with ‘em.”

You ran your finger over the page of the ledger that you’d just filled out, scanning the previous weeks and months of sweeps. “Makes sense.”

Tommy knocked his knuckles against the table. “Good. Yeah, it’s pretty straightforward. You’ll always be with a partner. And you always make both of you comin’ back safely a priority. Sound like somethin’ you can be on board with?”

Taking a breath, you nodded before letting it back out. “Yeah. Definitely. I…” You cleared your throat, swallowing hard. “I can start right away, too. I’m ready.”

He lifted one eyebrow, watching you closely. She’s lookin’ for distractions so she doesn’t have to sit home alone with… He clicked his tongue. Shit. “Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll get you added to rotation this week. I’m sure there’s someone who could use a day off.”

Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. “Yeah. I’ll take whatever shifts don’t coincide with the bakery hours.”

I did that, too. When I first got here. Spent all my time doin’ repairs and ridin’ trails. So I didn’t have to face any of the shit I was pushing down.

He said your name and frowned at the way you seemed surprised by the sound of it. “We don’t need you runnin’ yourself into the ground, alright? I’ll get you on the schedule, but -” Now or never. You sat in silence across from him, eyes wider than they’d gone when you’d read about the infected he and Joel dispatched a few months back. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to keep yourself busy all the time.”

You started to protest, shaking your head, words stumbling out of your mouth. “No, Tommy, it’s… I’d rather, I want-”

He held up one palm as you went silent again, and he let out a deep breath. “I know what you’re trying to do. Because I spent a long time doin’ the same thing, and I can tell you that all it does is make it harder and draw it out and-” He felt his throat thicken. “And if you don’t work through it, it’ll eat you up inside and-”

Your head was moving side to side more rapidly as you stood abruptly, the chair legs scraping the floor. “No, you don’t understand, I-”

Yes I do. He spoke your name again and what he saw on your face when you looked at him made it clear that you needed to hear what he was about to say. “I do understand.” He flinched as he felt it cut sharply through his chest. “I know what it’s like. Losing family that’s way too young to-” Shit. His voice had started to waver, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Twenty four years later, Tommy could still hear Sarah laughing as he made a joke at Joel’s expense. He could still see her face light up like the damn sun when he would show up at her soccer games. The space she took up in his heart still remembered what it was to be her uncle.

Your voice was quiet as you spoke, more of an exhale than a whisper. “Tommy… I-”

No. He knew you were trying to give him an out, trying to tell him that it was fine, that he didn’t have to rehash his pain to help you through yours. But it ain’t fine. And… Maria was right. I need this as much as she does. He didn’t know you well, and he hadn’t known you for long, but he knew the look in your eyes and the weight in your heart because he had seen and felt it in himself.

Shaking his head, he cut you off and continued, taking care not to say anything that would give away the fact that he was talking about Joel’s daughter. “I… we lost my niece.” Jesus, how long’s it been since I said that out loud to someone? He watched your mouth fall open, your lower lip trembling as you took a deep and shuddering breath, and he nodded, brow creasing heavily. I know. It’s so fuckin’ unfair. “Kid was… I loved that little girl. And when she was taken from us it-” Another dense lump clogged his throat but he pushed through it, words breaking slightly. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, toughest loss I’ve had so I… when I tell you that I understand what you’re goin’ through and that I know what it’s like? It’s not just me sayin’ some shit to make you feel better.” He shook his head. “I know there’s nothin’ I can say that’s gonna make you feel better about losin’ your nephew. But if you… you should talk about him. Doesn’t have to be to me. Doesn’t have to be now. But… don’t sit with this alone for too long. Alright?”

I don’t want it to fuckin’ destroy you. Like it did to me for so damn long. Like it did to Joel for even longer.

You didn’t ask any questions about what he’d said or give any indication that you were angry or offended. You didn’t storm off to find a different room to wait in until it was time to head back to town. You didn’t throw the log book in his face. You just sat there, weighing his words.

When you did finally break your silence, you did it with one word, and a shaky, tear strained nod. “Alright.” One word, followed by two more and a hitch in your breathing. “Thank you.”

Just like the night at the community center, Tommy reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clean bandana. Handing it over to you, he gave you what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Anytime.”

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form on my masterlist!

Tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels @cannedsoupsucks @harriedandharassed @marauderskeeper @joelmillerscoffee @woodlandmouth @swtaura @grfields @valkblue @stealyourblorbos

#survivor blues interlude #survivor blues #the last of us #the last of us fic #tommy miller #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #sarah miller #survivor blues : Tommy POV #survivor blues: similar scars

32 notes · View notes

nocturnalswarehouse · 1 year

Text

Chapter 30 - The Jarl's Gratitude

Fic Series: At Long Last

Pairing: Brynjolf x Female Dovahkiin|Dragonborn (Adranelle Rolaine)

Premise: Eight years after being declared the Dragonborn, and three years after Alduin is defeated, Adranelle (Adi) Rolaine finds herself back in Riften to help Brynjolf with the Thieves Guild's reputation.

Masterlist

Taglist: @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn

Word count: 1, 279

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter! I have never been able to make it through a full novel-length fic, but thanks to support from friends and comments from readers, I had the motivation to finish the piece :) There will be a sequel coming, and I will work on it as much as possible with school happening, but I won't be posting it until the spring. For now, I'll be posting snippets here and there when I can be active in ask games and in general. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Despite being called in together, Jarl Laila addressed the thieves separately. Brynjolf was first, Laila granting him ownership to Riftweald Manor. “I understand that Mercer Frey is not the man we all thought. I thank you both for putting an end to his reign. Brynjolf, Riftweald is yours if you so wish. Anuriel will speak with you about the terms while I speak with your partner.”

“Thank you, my Jarl,” Brynjolf gave her a genuine smile and bowed his head before following the Bosmer into a separate room.

“Adranelle Rolaine.” Jarl Laila smiled warmly as the half-Breton. Adi felt uncomfortable under the Jarl’s gaze, hearing her full name out loud for the first time. Even more so with Maven’s piercing glare directed at the half-Breton behind the Jarl.

“How-”

“You’re the talk of the town lately,” Jarl Laila held up her hand, stopping Adi from speaking. “My steward has informed me that you’ve made quite an impression in the Rift; several of our citizens have expressed their admiration. Much like Mjoll, you’ve become a champion of our hold. Your willingness to help people with their difficulties and providing assistance for their needs has caused many to sing your praises. As the Jarl of Riften, I feel it is my duty to honour your selfless behaviour by honouring you with the title Thane of Riften.”

“I would be honoured to accept, my Jarl,” Adi showed gratitude, although felt unsure. The last thing she needed was another title that screamed ‘hero,’ but who was she to decline the Jarl?"

“Before I can present you with the title, there is but a single requirement you must fulfill,” Laila continued. “A Thane of Riften is required to maintain permanent residence within the city walls. My steward-”

“Sorry to interrupt, my Jarl,” Brynjolf took his place next to Adi once again, slinging an arm around her waist. “But that’s not an issue. Adi will be living with me.”

“I am?” Adi looked up at the Nord, confused. Living together wasn’t something they had discussed quite yet, so his statement was quite a surprise.

“Only if you want to, lass,” he looked at her. When their eyes locked, Adi knew her answer right away. She would not turn him down when he had unadulterated love for her.

“Of course I do,” she smiled. “That just caught me off guard.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jarl Laila pulled them back. “I officially bestow the title Thane of Riften on you.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” Jarl Laila shook her head. “You’ve solved more problems in the short time you’ve been here than anyone in my court has their entire careers. You’ve been a beacon of hope in these dark times for my people, and I will never forget it. Therefore, by my authority as Jarl, I pronounce you Thane of Riften and award you all the benefits befitting your station. Congratulations.”

That comment made Maven sneer, and her eyes darken. That reaction alone caused Adi’s smile to grow. Not only was she receiving a Noble title, but Maven’s disgust towards the recognition Adi was getting made it worth accepting.

“Your Housecarl, Iona, will meet you in Riftweald Manor. Please ensure you will have a room for her, should you choose to redecorate.” Jarl Laila dismissed the thieves.

Hand-in-hand, they left Mistveil and made a beeline for Riftweald, Brynjolf handing Adi a key to their new home. Brynjolf told Adi that the process was easy. Anuriel had the paperwork in order and just needed him to sign it. He added Adi’s name right then and there. The Steward would hear about the Manor’s redesign by the end of the week.

“My Thane, may I speak with you for a moment?” if it were any other voice, Adi would be baffled as to how word spread so quickly. However, Adi recognized it to be Maven. She was not keen on hearing what the Nord woman had to say to her.

“I’ll meet you inside,” Adi told Bryn, squeezing his hand before approaching her mother. Brynjolf nodded and climbed up the ladder to the top floor entrance.

“What is it, Lady Maven?” she asked innocently.

“I know who you are, and I’m aware you have found out who I am to you,” her tone was low, menacing. “If word of this were to spill to anyone other than yourself and Leo, I will not hesitate to remove you from this situation. We both know how quickly word spreads in this town.”

“Word spreads this quickly in any of the Hold’s towns,” Adi shrugged. “And I can assure you, the news I received before I left to end Mercer’s life isn’t one I’d be keen on anyone finding out, either. Besides, I know things about you that would tarnish your reputation even more than the town finding out you abandoned a baby almost 30 years ago. I suggest you back off and leave myself, Brynjolf, and the Guild alone; otherwise, your luck will run dry.”

“I won’t give up that easily, dear daughter,” she smirked, knowing how much that word would irk Adi. “You’ve just threatened the wrong woman.”

“And so have you.”

***

Six weeks later, Riftweald Manor looked completely different from the dump Mercer left it. All traps and triggers were gone, the bottom tunnels into the Ratway were blocked off, the top floor door lead to a closed-off balcony, and the ground entrances were usable. Given a well-deserved break from the Guild, Adi and Brynjolf focused fully on redesigning their home together. The final floor plan was approved by Iona and sent to Anuriel. Renovations took little time and made the space warm and welcoming. It was perfect. The thieves couldn’t be happier.

After Adi and Brynjolf hung up their final decoration - a drawing made by Delvin of one of the Guild’s celebrations in the Flagon - they collapsed onto a loveseat, Brynjolf pulling Adi into his chest. “You think the place is ready for our friends tonight?”

“I think it’s perfect.” she looked up and kissed him deeply. The previous week, they had entered the Cistern and invited the Guild members to a small Housewarming party. Everything remotely fragile was thought about, in consideration of drunken thieves in one place, and Adi made sure they were either too high to reach or unmovable. Mostly both, if she was going, to be honest.

“You’re perfect,” Brynjolf shifted, so Adi straddled him, tangling his fingers in her hair. He deepened the kiss, Adi reciprocating with no hesitation, and moved to start removing her civilian clothes when a loud knock sounded at their front door. “You’d think that we wouldn’t get interrupted as much being away from the Cistern, but alas, I was wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s just the courier or something,” Adi laughed. She kissed him again, then headed to their front door and met with Nazir.

“Congratulations on the new place, Adranelle,” Nazir gave her a curt nod and handed her a bottle of Mead - packaged as a gift.

“Thank you, Nazir,” she took the mead and invited him in. “You do know the housewarming party isn’t until later, right?”

“Yes, but I came early because I have… some unpleasant news.”

“What is it?” Adi set the mead on a shelf, then turned the assassin.

“The Night Mother informed me of a new… complicated contract.”

“One that only I can handle? What are the details.”

“It involves you, yes,” Nazir hesitated. He wished not to ruin her day, but this was not something that could wait. “But not in the way that you think.”

“Nazir, spit it out.”

“Someone wants you dead.”

#tes: skyrim #skyrim #brynjolf #brynjolf x oc #the thieves guild #brynjolf fanfiction #fanfiction #riften #the thieves guild main quest #the dark brotherhood #maven black briar #nazir skyrim

20 notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 4 months

Note

Hey 😊 I finally finished reading Home for the Holidays 😭 I saw it on the day you posted it, but only got to read small parts from time to time cause it was so hectic in our household. I just finally got the time to finish reading this, yay 🥳, so please bear with my all over the place comments 😅

Here goes:

First of all, may I just say how much I LOVE the chaotic friend group. I think this is a pattern with your writing. You ALWAYS make the friend group so fun and lively that it makes them so lovable to us readers 🥰

The scene where he put in Jin's number 🤣 I’d be pissed too, having randos blow up your phone? That’s like a nightmare to me 😱

I also love Jimin here, totally bff material. The perfect friend to share gossips with but also so dependable 🥺

I really love how his friends are so involved and committed on helping them both, so supportive. They got his back from the moment he told them his dilemma. Then they went all out with the planning and the photoshoot 😳

Jimin casually fixing her hair and feeding her snacks in between shoots 🥺

And Tae just casually teling them to kiss on demamd for the camera, not awkward at all 😅

And Jin telling Yoongi to "fix it" after finding out they haven't kissed yet and then ordering Namjoon to take them to the hall and he stands guard as they have their first makeout session with Tae taking pictures of it secretly. The whole scene was so hilarious 🤣

Jimin making sure she's caffeinated and her making sure he's eating during hell week 🥹

The flashcards are so cute ☺️ Asking questions to know more about each other. I feel like that’s something people should do when they're ACTUALLY dating but I guess this’ll come in handy when they finally make it official 🥴

Joon and Hobi crawling between Jin's legs when he and Tae get stuck at the door 🤣

The movie night scene where the others are watching them both be a natural as a couple 👀😏🤭

Joonie being extra and also making a ppt to help her "study" 🫣

They are all making so much effort so Jk can be gifted with an apartment, such great friends 🥹

Also, how he answered “What, baby?” to her call 🥺 it comes so naturally. Then he adds “Why would they hate you? You’re my girl.” 🫠 This whole interaction of her panic video-calling him but gets distracted by what she sees (cause girl, same 😂) is so cute and just 🥺😌☺️

And then the perilla leaf scene, my heart can't take so much fluff 😭

The scene where she sniffs his shirt 😳🥴

He has SQUISHMALLOWS 😍 and then her planning to take him to Build-A-Bear for a date 🥺 You know, when they finally make it official (cause who are they kidding with them being a “fake” couple 🙄) this would be an amazing future drabble 👀 just kidding 😆 (Unless.....👀 lol 🤣)

Also, is Hobi the only one that doesn't live in that town? Cause they dropped him at the train station so I'm assuming he's going somewhere else. Was it mentioned and my stupid brain didn't catch it? 😅

Aaaaaaaaand it’s stopped there 😫 I can’t wait to read the rest, she’s finally meeting the family 😅 Let’s see how this will turn out, I’m sure it’ll be as amazing as this first half. You did so well with this one as always. As weird as this sounds, I feel really proud of you for finally finishing writing this. I know how much you stressed over this story and whether or not you will actually complete it. And you finally did, all your efforts paid off cause this is soooooooooo amazing and well-written. Don’t feel too pressured to finish writing a story within a specific timeframe cause this story just proves how amazing the outcome is when you take your time to write it. Okay, this is getting really long so i’ll stop here. Just really wanted to tell you that.

I hope you enjoyed your holidays and are doing well 💜

Hello! 😊

I’m so glad you got to read it 😊 I was nervous about posting it and then tumblr and it’s new word count limit/line limit made it hard to post and it kept crashing or not saving 😭

SPOILERS

I absolute love the friend group! The chaotic energy is so wholesome! It reminds me of my high school days 🥰🥹

Namjoon lives and breathes CHAOS as we will see in the next part 👀 he also didn’t want to put his number or Jungkook’s in case nobody was right for the part. He figured Jin would be a better person to sort through potentials but he could have used a texting app 😅

I adore my Jimin’s 😭 I usually make him love gossip or meddling bc that’s how I am 🤣 I can’t help it sometimes but I try 😀

I had so much fun writing the first kiss scene! I think it was bc though it was stated on the flyer that PDA was part of the gig, Tae just assumed they’d kissed by then 🤣 so when he realized they hadn’t it put the shoot behind schedule and Tae is a professional 💪🏼

But also it was a perfect opportunity to showcase more of their friendship 🤣 they’re problem solvers if nothing else and Jin likes to boss people around sometimes and to mess with Yoongi if nothing else 😅

Ahhh thank you for catching those little moments of Jimin and reader’s friendship. I didn’t want it to be too overshadowed by the scheme 🥹

Yes! They had to put it into overdrive and learn everything about each other in such a short time. From having crushes to lemme know absolutely everything is hard lol but I think they did pretty well 😊

The PowerPoint has to be one of my favorite parts! Who better than to teach you than someone who’s known Jungkook practically all his life and with visuals, you know he snuck in some baby photos in there 🤣

And the flash cards 🤣 ah I adore them all so much.

The movie night was fun! I did like writing Joon and hobi crawling to get inside bc they know well enough that once Jin and Tae start arguing there’s no end in sight 🤣 and then JK and reader being couple like in front of them definitely gave them the right vibes in pulling this off. Perfect practice 🥹

He’s so into her! Like sleepy!Jungkook just speaks freely with no restraint bc he just adores her so much already and she is his girlfriend even if it’s kinda fake 👀

And the shirt sniff!!!! Ahhhh and the perilla leaf thing again lmao I watched it recently and it seemed like something Jimin would instigate to annoy Jungkook 🤣 we see a little more jealousy in the next part. Just a little if you squint though lol

I was thinking of writing a build a bear Drabble later on and maybe a spring break drabble bc I just love them so much 🥹 and JK can never have too many stuffed animals! He likes them and yes, he names them all

Originally Hobi, Yoongi and Seokjin were gonna live in different cities from the rest of the group but I ended up changing it. So Tae and Jungkook live right next to each other and Joon and Jimin live next to each other but right across from Tae and JK.

On the next block over (literally on the other side of Jimin and Joon’s backyard, Yoongi lives on the other side of Jimin’s backyard and Seokjin on the other side of Namjoon and then Hobi across the street from Seokjin. So in my mind, Hobi went to a sky resort for a few days before coming home for new year but he ends up coming home sooner when Jimin hunts at the plan failing though it’s not in the fic.

Here’s a snippet:

Yes! I’m so glad I finally got around to it! It’s been 3 years of staring at the old banner that I didn’t even end up using 🤣

But yes I am working diligently to get the next part done. It is 14k as of now but I feel like there’s still something missing from it and I spent maybe 4/5 hours today just editing and proofreading 😴 and making sure the smut made sense and oof it took a lot out of me.

Thank you so much for stopping by! I always look forward to hearing from you! I hope you stay safe and healthy! Have a good day/night 💜💜💜💜

#sweet feedback 💖#pretty pretty moots 💕#fic: hfth

6 notes · View notes

wxtchpilot · 10 months

Text

[ Thinking about the relationship between Prospera, Ericht and Suletta.

What's kind of interesting is that it feels like Ericht would know Elnora better, given that was her mother before everything happened. And who knows when her mother changed her name to Prospera.

Now Suletta never knew her mother as Elnora, merely Prospera. No telling how Suletta was exactly raised by Prospera, but we do see that she still had her red hair, and it was getting longer, by the time she was at least a toddler.

I still believe that Prospera does indeed love Suletta, but it feels much different compared to Ericht. Like Miorine said, her needing to love her daughters equally, because Prospera's comment of---

"I do love her, but she has friends like you now."

Which yeah true, she does have friends that care and love her now, but at the same time, it makes it feel like she's saying that Suletta doesn't need her anymore, she had others to rely on and that she needs to help Ericht instead.

Granted, Ericht has probably had it rough. Being only able to live in the data storm, her bio code being uploaded into a Gundam and then having replicas made out of your genes to help give you a chance at that "freedom" your mother is building for you.

It's hard to say how Ericht actually feels about her mother's plan (outside of not wanting to include Suletta since it's not her burden to bear), but it also feels like she's into it as well.

And then Prospera on the other hand, to see her panicking and raising her voice about what Ericht was doing at the end of the episode, it was truly the first time (outside of the prologue when she was Elnora) we've seen her very strong and confident front break in a way. For Prospera to lose her whole entire family basically, and all she knew with her friends and mentor due to the Vanadis Incident, her losing her mind a little makes sense.

It felt like her daughter was the last physical piece she could cling to, so when she finally lost her to the data storm, the fact she may have been desperate enough to keep her "alive" by uploading her into a mobile suit and do everything she did? I feel like that didn't help her mental state at all either. Because Prospera wasn't always a terrible person, we see how kind and sweet she is as Elnora, and we're constantly reminded of it in the OP.

Suletta of course learns about her origins through Ericht, and ever since then, she hasn't called her by the name Aerial since. The thought process she had during all that had to be insane; it was during the time the girl refused to eat for who knows how long after all.

Learning that you were merely a key to a plan you knew nothing about, not to mention a replica of your mother's real daughter, and then you begin to lose faith in those very same words that built courage within you; 'Move forward, gain two.'

Suletta gets to a point where she doesn't even use it anymore, and instead changes it around to where she moves forward, even if she doesn't gain anything in the end.

I can't imagine what her thought process was like with all that information, even as it got to the point where she considers her not her real daughter, yet STILL loves both her and Ericht. After all, that's still her mother and she has done things for her, supported her, and shown her love and care when she needed it.

Suletta still thanks her for sending her to school, even if it was just to use her, because she ended up making new friends and experiencing things she never have before and even during the fight with Ericht, she says she wants to be there for her mother when she cries so she can hold her.

This girl, despite what secrets she learned that would understandably cripple her, is willing to get into a Gundam that she was scared of dying in to fight her sister all because she loved them and didn't want them to get hurt or hurt others.

Ericht wanted nothing but happiness for Suletta, wanting her to enjoy her life and be with her friends, even if her plan with her mother still affected her life at the school in the end.

And even after they spent the whole time fighting, Ericht ended up protecting Suletta from "big bad laser" and (possibly) dying (?) as a result. There's still love there between them, between sister.

It's just a very complicated family, one I find very interesting, something to explore with Suletta more too in the future. At least, that's my goal.

I'd want to give it justice, and hope it's fun too. XD ]

#OOC #[ I wrote bit more than I thought I would so Read More lol ]

1 note · View note

fandomout · 3 years

Note

heya! can i request lots of lip gallagher angst please? i love what you write and need him in my life </3

Thank you so much! I'm not sure when I'll be able to make more Lip angst or Lip fic's, but I'll be sure to try when I get an idea. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

Warning! Mentions of virginity and sex, but there is no actual smut. Slight fluff. Lots of Angst. Not sure if this has been done before. If it has, credit to them, and this is my version of it.

Smiles and laughs grace your best friend, Lip, and you can't help grin just because he seems happy. He tells you about his recent endeavors at college, specifically how he’s having the greatest adventures with his professor, Helene. When you 1st heard about this mysterious woman, you were initially livid, on the inside, of course. You wanted to know everything and nothing about her all at once. However, just like always you had to find a way within yourself to support Lip’s happiness. You always hold onto the friendship that’s graced the both of you with each other. Also, you couldn’t help internalizing Lip’s trauma's and emotions throughout the years. He deserved to go to school and become even greater than he already is, and although you couldn't always stomach the thought of him with someone else, you’d support that too to see him be loved. You were as it goes hopelessly devoted to Lip, so you hadn't really dated too much. Nothing could ever get serious when you’d hold him in your heart.

🖇

One day, you were at Lip’s dorm helping him clean up a bit when Lip seemed to really catch the fact that you'd apparently been single for “too long”. You scoffed at Lip and asked, “What’s that your business for?” He laughed at the comment and added, “I just want you to be happy. I mean we don’t get as much time these days. Me in college and with…” He smiled and looked off to space. You mouth her name as he says, “Helene.” You roll your eyes at it and shake your head and bitterly say, “I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.”

“I get that, but maybe you’d seem a little...a little...better?”

“Better?”

“You just seem a little down lately. Seeing as you won’t tell me what it’s about, I’m just trying to find an all around solution because I care.” His hand finding your shoulder.

”I’m doing fine, really. You're just so up in the clouds-”

“I want you up here too.” You sigh as the words are a rubber band to the heart as you wished he meant together...

“Lip, I don’t need someone.”

“It doesn't have to be serious. Just get laid.“ His insistent nature angers you to shout, “I can't! I’ve never-” You stop yourself too late. Your virginity has never been a topic of concern. You both just glossed over it. To you, it never seemed like Lip knew you hadn’t gotten that far, regardless, you never wanted it to be made so clear. Silence passed between you two before he started to laugh and said, “You’re fucking joking.” You looked down to your feet, which was when he actually believed your words. “No shit. No fucking way! You haven’t gotten laid yet!”

“Want to scream it out any louder! Shut the fuck up!” He laughed before he held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s crazy to me.”

“Of course it is. You bang anything that walks. Lip-”

“Even with any of your s/o’s, you never-”

“No! I'm a virgin. No big deal!”

“Yes. I just find it hard to believe nobody would try. Did they?”

“Maybe once or twice, and I shut them down.”

“Not good enough for you.”

“Something like that.”

“People are fucking stupid. You are hot, and it surprises me there aren't any more.”

“It's the story of my life.”

“What?”

“Getting overlooked.” You said simply before continuing to stack a book on a high shelf.

“Come on, that can’t be true.” He turns you toward him. “I see you unless I see dead people.”

“Haha.” You grin.

“I’m serious though. When you walk into the room, it’s brighter. Maybe you catch the attention of shy people. Maybe pay more attention?”

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

🖇

You were on your way home late at night when you got a call from Lip. You answered and immediately thought it was a bit late.

“Hey!” He said a little off.

“Lip, what’s up?”

“Just need a drinking buddy.” You hear a bottle crash on his side of the phone.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yup! Having the bez time.”

“You already started drinking without me. Where are you?”

“I think I’m on campus on like a lawn-can’t remember which one.”

“I’ll be right there. Stay on the li-” He hung up. You jumped a fence and ran all over campus with no sign of him, and he wouldn't take you calls. You finally found him toward the back exit of the campus. He was swinging his body silly with heavy footsteps. You rushed over to support him. Immediately, he detached himself. A pout on his face with slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs dryly.

“Come on, sit down.” You have him sit on the curb and wish you brought him a bottle of water or something. “What’s this about?”

“Helene...She’s married. She has a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be shocking to hear-”

“I already knew.”

“What do you mean you knew?”

“These past few...weeks? Weeks, I think, I knew. Hell, her husband watched us-Well, watched us fornicate.”

“Gross.” You couldn’t help but say. He shrugged at your reaction, not really being able to defend that truth. “You agreed to it?”

“I did, but I feel her pulling away now. I haven’t changed anything though.” He turns quickly toward me like he’d get whiplash. He points his finger to his chest and hits his chest aggressively as he says, “I’m me! I’m still giving her everything I have!...It leaves me in a funk.”

“You want to be with her that badly?”

“Yeah.”

“But, it doesn't feel so good.”

“Right.”

“You know why?”

“Yeah. I just said she has-”

“I didn’t mean the family thing.”

“Then, why?”

“You should try a relationship that’s more meaningful.”

“This is meaningful to me.”

“I meant a healthy meaningful.”

“Who are you to tell me?” He said it harshly.

“You’re right. I have no right to tell you what’s meaningful to you. You have to admit you're not in the best situation.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d rather have nothing than search for something. I think your standards are too high.”

“Trust me, they're not that high… Top 3 are honesty, communication, and trust.”

“Hmm ...You want to tell me something?” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all three of those for you. I must be your dream guy.”

”You could be, except it wouldn’t happen obviously.”

“Are you sure about that?'' He found himself saying.

“Here we are talking about your women, I’m sure...” You bite at your lip. Your thoughts stop when you see a few tears branching out of his eyes. You comb your hand through his hair. As he looked for more comfort, he wanted to lay down. You convinced him to let you get him to his dorm. He allowed you that, and he cried himself to sleep on your lap. He snuggled into your leg while you rubbed his back. You’d already had a distaste for Helene, but now you really couldn't stand her. She’d been fooling Lip, and she still had the power to keep going along with it.

🖇

After the incident, Lip wanted to act like it didn’t happen. He had told you that they were working on it. He even said it might be the closest thing to a relationship he’s had. You wanted to be there for him, but you had to admit you couldn't support this harm. There is a difference in this case to supporting him. You didn’t want to be a part of any longer. You kept quiet about it initially since she’d only done “one” wrong by him, according to Lip. He talked to you less and less it seemed after it. You tried your best, but something always seemed to come up. You’d get calls from Ian or Fiona that he’s drinking a lot which worries you and hasn't attempted AA when they think it's becoming a big issue. Finally, you confronted Lip on the street.

“I can't talk now.” He said. You didn’t let him push past you and stated, “No. You are not ditching me once again. You have stuff going on. It probably has to do with that woman-”

“Helene. That's none of your business.”

“None of my business?” You look at the bag under his eyes. He reeked of alcohol on his disheveled clothes. “She’s ruining you, but that’s none of my business? What happened this time?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before he sniffed and gave you a side smirk.

“I just maybe happened to beat up her son after I thought she cheated on me with him. Isn't that funny?” He giggled and hiccupped.

“Why were you upset? You were fine when she had a husband to cheat on you with.”

“That was different. Anyway, I see you’re upset about the lack of time I’ve been spending with you, but I can fix it. Let go for a drink.'' He put his arm around your shoulder and was probably leading you to Kev and V’s. You removed the arm and snapped, “What you need is some water. You’ve had enough.”

“What do you mean I haven’t drunk today?”

“Tell that to your breath and clothes. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think this conversation is stupid and remember why I was trying not to talk to you.”

“You did it on purpose?”

“I just knew you’d get all worried for nothing.”

“For nothing? She’s not good for you to begin with. Lip” You hold his hand and softly say, “Lip, She was your professor and married.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Lip-”

“I love her! She sure is a hell of a lot better than the ones telling me otherwise. You have no right to judge me. Take a look at yourself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Helene was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!...I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.” As he saw your tears and hurt, he sobered up slightly and said, “Wait-” You quickened your steps to get away as fast as possible. He tried to follow after, but his drunken body wouldn't allow it as he reached forward and fell right on his ass. "Fuck!"

Hope your day got better

Part 2 Lip realizes his mistake

Lip Gallagher Masterlist

Full Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds.

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

#wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagine #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #jung wooyoung fluff #ateez fanfic #wooyoung imagines

1K notes · View notes

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Arthur throws a tantrum that has severe consequences;

Merlin suffers, and Gwaine just about manages to stop himself from killing The King.

TW: Extreme body horror and blood and grossness.

They're in a cave.

It's dark, and damp, and far too quiet, so despite the fact that their quest was successful, The King, his manservant, and Camelot's six best knights are still slightly on edge.

The traps had been circumvented, the artefact had been collected, the curse had been broken, and they were on their way home, but the buzz of dark magic hums through Merlin and Sir Mordred’s skulls, and the uneasy looks they keep sending each other worry Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine, which in turn worries everyone else.

Gwaine doesn’t know about Merlin’s magic, though he does know that the younger man has a lot more to do with Camelot’s (and Arthur’s) continued survival than he lets on. He won’t push, he won’t ask, but he’s an observant man who places all of his faith in Merlin, so if covering for him whenever Arthur casually asks if he saw the servant at the tavern, or supporting Lancelot whenever he makes a loud comment based on Merlin’s subtle whispered suggestion, is all he can do? Fine. He’ll do it.

Merlin’s face when he does so is always a little bit heartbreaking. He’s clearly grateful, for the trust, for the back up, for the belief, but Gwaine can see the desperation in his expression. Guilt and fear and apprehension all rolled into one, covered with a weak smile and a cheeky wink. Gwaine always pretends not to notice, and he can tell that sometimes Merlin is more grateful for that than he is for the original help.

Merlin’s stiffening back and faltered step finally persuades Gwaine that it’s time to step in again, but before he can loudly ask the group if anything feels off, a deep rumble echoes from below their feet.

It’s quiet to start with and the whole group freezes, gazes shifting sharply back in the direction they had come from; it’s only when the rumble suddenly morphs into a loud series of crashes and dust begins falling from the ceiling in aggressive swirls that Mordred yells:

“Cave-in!! We need to go!”

They all begin sprinting down the corridor, desperately hoping that their memory was serving them well; if they were right, if they hadn’t made any wrong turns or miscalculated the distance, the cave exit should be just around the corner. The rumbling only grows louder as they run, and within seconds, pebbles, and soon larger rocks and boulders, are falling from the ceiling.

It’s only Merlin, pushing himself faster so he can catch up to Leon, grabbing his cloak and pulling him to a halt, that stops the older knight from being crushed by falling debris. The curly haired knight widens his eyes for a fraction of a second before taking Merlin’s hand in his own and pulling him to catch up with the others, resigning himself to thanking the servant profusely when they were no longer running for their lives.

Everyone coughs the dirt from their lungs and rubs it from their eyes, hands out in front of them to stop them from running face first into a wall; Arthur’s victorious yell when they turn a sharp corner to see bright sunshine spilling into the tunnel about fifty feet ahead of them spurs the group even faster.

The ground somehow begins to shake even more viciously, and Elyan trips. He trips, and suddenly finds himself lifted in the air, only for a second, before he lands solidly on his two feet again. The knight knows magic when he feels it, and the others know it when they see it, so when the shaking stops all of a sudden, the dust frozen in the air and boulders shaking above their heads, they halt in their tracks.

Merlin, at the back of the group, lets out a pained groan, and all of their heads whip around, every single one of them panicking at the thought that their friend had been crushed or captured by some evil sorcerer. Their view of him is quickly blocked by Lancelot, though they can all see the servant’s shaking arms above his head, palms facing the no-longer-crumbling ceiling.

Gwaine is the first to step forward, cautious but quick, and he takes in a gasp at Merlin’s golden eyes. Lancelot doesn’t even spare him a glance, hands on Merlin’s shoulders as he lets out panicked whispers:

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Merlin, come on, you can’t hold this.”

Merlin just groans again, the sweat gathering on his brow as he grinds his teeth together, barely even paying attention to Lancelot, and paying even less attention when Arthur finally steps sideways, sharply inhaling at the obvious display of sorcery. Everyone seems to have gathered what’s going on now, and their gazes are ripped from the struggling servant when Arthur clenches his fists and harshly sneers:

“You’re a sorcerer! How long? How long have you been betraying me?!”

When the King takes a threatening step towards him, Gwaine moves to be in his way, landing a strong hand on his shoulder and responding with equal anger:

“He’s not betraying you, you arsehole, he just saved all of our lives.”

Arthur throws his hand off violently and it’s only Leon’s quick reaction that stops him from punching the knight, though Gwaine looks as if he’d rather enjoy the fight. Lancelot turns his head quickly, scowling at both of them but not releasing his hold on Merlin as he rushes out:

“We don’t have time for this, we need to figure out how to get out.”

The King doesn’t seem to take in his words, just stares at him with disgust as he notices the way he’s practically holding Merlin up:

“And you knew? You’re a traitor too then?”

The ground shakes, only briefly, but it’s enough to remind everyone of the situation at hand, and Percival jumps in, ignoring Arthur’s anger and Gwaine’s mistrust as he puts a supporting hand on Merlin’s ribs:

“Can you move whilst holding it up? We’re about thirty feet from the exit.”

Merlin just shakes his head, eyes clenched tightly shut and jaw so tense that Lance worries about the state of his teeth. He takes in a ragged breath, sounding as if he has gravel in his lungs, as he stutters out:

“Can’t... you leave.... run.”

Arthur lets out a loud growl, and Gwaine turns to him in anger, but before he can throw an insult (or a punch) the ground shakes again; Mordred only just manages to grab Percival’s hand and sharply pull him down before his skull is caved in by the ceiling falling half a metre.

Merlin lets out another loud whine, and Lancelot releases a sharp breath at the trickle of blood coming from his nose. The knight’s voice is desperate as he speaks:

“Come on, Merlin, use that big brain of yours, how do we get out? You’ve dealt with worse.”

Merlin can only shake his head again, and a crack echoes down the corridor as he screams. One of his arms falls limply to his side and the knights notice with growing horror the odd angle of his collar bone and the lumps of bone under his skin. Tears leak from his eyes as he groans and his breath deepens, only managing to yell one word in his agony:

“RUN!”

The shout jolts the knights out of their terror, but Arthur seems to ignore him again:

“You’re a fucking trai-”

Gwaine does manage to throw a punch this time, but Leon pulls Arthur back before he can retaliate, dragging him back a few steps. Mordred grabs Lancelot’s arm, muttering so only the knight can hear:

“He’ll be fine, remember? We will not, we need to go.”

Lancelot gives Merlin a tender kiss on the forehead, muttering whispered desperate apologies to his best friend before turning and shooing Percival back down the corridor:

“Go, go! We need to go, he can’t hold it much longer!”

Arthur is suddenly reminded of the collapsing cave around him, anger at Merlin morphing into anger at the universe for both making his manservant a traitor, and making him find out in the middle of a life-threatening emergency. He stumbles towards the exit, hand covering his mouth against the dust and pebbles that are falling through the air once more.

Percival and Elyan follow reluctantly, looking back at their tortured friend with tears in their eyes, but move towards the sunlight regardless. Gwaine moves in the opposite direction, planting his feet in front of Merlin and cupping his jaw softly with both hands, resting their foreheads together. He ignores Merlin’s whispered “Go...” and digs his feet in when Leon and Lancelot attempt to pull him away.

It’s Leon that yells:

“Gwaine, come on, there’s nothing you can do!” as the two of them finally manage to force him back, but he thrashes in their hold, screams echoing down the cavern:

“NO! I’M NOT LEAVING HIM!! LET ME FUCKING GO!!”

They only manage to drag him back a few feet before he breaks free, sprinting back towards Merlin. The servant opens his bloody eyes, glancing over Gwaine’s shoulder to see Mordred, Elyan, Percival, and Arthur falling out into the sun. He looks back to Gwaine when he feels his warm, calloused hands on his cheeks again, letting out a pained sob before grinding out a cracking:

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

He lifts his broken arm with a loud yelp, placing his violently shaking hand against Gwaine’s chest and pushing. His eyes flash brighter for a second, his scream guttural and horrifying, but all Gwaine can focus on is the way his body flies through the air with a force he’d never known; within seconds, he, Lancelot, and Leon are having their falls broken by sunlight and soft grass.

He whips his head up, wiping the hair from his eyes with a hand shaking from adrenaline. He can still see Merlin, now on his knees with agony scrawled across his face and blood pouring from his mouth; Gwaine’s brain supplies the explanation that the servant had probably bitten his tongue clean off, with the way his jaw was clenched so harshly. He stumbles to his feet, an outraged shriek bursting forth when Leon and Lancelot rush to grab him once again, stopping him from running back into the collapsing cave. He pulls against them, but it’s no use, and the last thing he sees before the dust blinds him is Merlin’s tired, bloody smile of relief at seeing him safe.

The impact of the mountain falling, even only a few feet, was felt across the entire Kingdom. The sudden earthquake threw all of the knights to the floor and it was only when the shaking stopped that they could finally stand again. It took a few more moments for the dust to settle enough that they could clearly see, but Gwaine’s breath is snatched from him when he looks to the cave entrance to see nothing but rubble.

He immediately rushes towards the cliff face, managing to evade Leon and Lancelot’s grabbing hands and uncaring of the danger of unstable debris. He hands land roughly on the stone, digging the fingers of one hand into cracks, and thumping his other hand, curled into a fist, against the rocks repeatedly:

“MERLIN!!”

His voice almost cracks, but he doesn’t care, continuing his desperate attempt to dislodge the boulders despite the others’ shouted warnings. Percival manages to grip his shoulder tight enough that Gwaine can’t slip free, and yanks him away from the caved-in entrance, but the shorter knight just whirls around in anger:

“What are you doing? He might still be alive in there!”

Percival shakes his head, tears in his eyes, but before he can respond Arthur pushes him out of the way and lands a hard punch to Gwaine’s cheek. The knight’s head rocks to the side, but he’s whirling back again within moments, being held back just in time by Percival before he can retaliate:

“You fucking knew, didn’t you?! You knew he was a traitor!”

Mordred clenches his hands and jaw in anger, but manages to keep any attacks in, verbal or otherwise. Leon and Elyan seem to be ignoring the fight entirely; the past few minutes had seemed to catch up with them as they stare despondently at the fallen debris. Lancelot stands back, looking an odd mix between heartbroken and frustrated, eyes darting around the clearing as if he were waiting for something.

Gwaine squares his shoulders, shrugging Percival off and taking a threatening step towards the fuming King, fists tightly clenched and eyes blazing:

“No. I didn’t know. But he just saved all of our lives, and I bet not for the first time.”

Arthur throws up his hands and turns in a short, angry circle before facing Gwaine again, his voice rising with every word:

“With fucking sorcery!!”

Gwaine takes another step forward, stopped only by Percival’s soft hand on his shoulder as he responds in equal anger:

“Who gives a fuck? Gods, Arthur, get your head out of your arse, he’s been by your side for ten years, sacrificed more than we will ever know for you, and you turn on him in a second when he saves your life!-”

He takes another step towards The King, desperately trying to ignore the tears that suddenly slip down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the dust, as he gestures roughly at the mountain behind him and jabs Arthur in the chest:

“-He’s dead, Merlin is dead, because of you! No wonder he didn’t fucking trust you, look what you did!”

Arthur recoils at that, anger melting from his face in a split-second as his wide eyes move from Gwaine’s face to over his shoulder. His shoulders sag and his eyes finally, finally fill with tears as his gaze darts from one boulder to the next. He gulps, slowly stepping around the grieving knight as his hands begin to shake; Leon finally breaks out of his stupor, stepping towards Arthur and putting his own shaking hand on his shoulder:

“There’s nothing you- we could’ve done.”

Arthur shrugs the hand off, moving closer to the debris as his breathing grows deep and he mutters to himself:

“He... can’t be. No, he’s... he might be alive in there, we... I-”

Mordred, his anger finally boiling over, steps in front of Arthur. The King looks down to his youngest knight and takes a stumbled step back at the snarl on his face and the gold in his eyes:

“My Lord has suffered, once more, at your hands. Part of me wonders if Morgause is right, perhaps there’s no hope left for you.-”

He takes a deep breath and steps slightly away from Arthur again, schooling his face into neutrality as he speaks on a monotone voice:

“-Help is on the way, do us all a favour and keep your sword to yourself when they arrive.”

Arthur is frozen in his shock, as are Leon, Elyan, and Percival, but Lancelot just looks mildly disapproving and Gwaine is too busy unclasping his cloak and unbuckling his belt to notice. Arthur turns around again at the clanging sound, only to see Gwaine dropping his cloak and sword at his feet:

“I quit. I thought you were the exception to my belief that all nobles are corrupt, hypocritical, tyrants... I guess I was wrong.-”

With that, he pushes past the distraught, frozen King, to stand in front of Mordred:

“-What do you mean, help is coming?”

Mordred raises an eyebrow but doesn’t answer, instead nodding over Gwaine’s shoulder pointedly. Everyone turns around, only to take in surprised breath at the group of fifty or so golden-eyed Druids making their way through the trees towards them. Mordred and Lancelot push through the others and jog over to meet them, bowing briefly in greeting and ducking their heads to have a whispered conversation. Arthur is still staring at the cave-in blankly, but Leon stops the others from joining them with a firm wave of his hand. The rest of knights were clearly not in the know, and they definitely weren’t in charge; best leave this to the people who actually knew what was going on.

Lancelot nods to the mountain and Mordred gestures to his own collarbone, a look of confusion on his face. A few of the Druids gasp quietly, staring at the mountain in grief, but their leader, a man that Leon recognises as Iseldir, sighs and nods, looking as though he was giving a short explanation before patting Mordred on the shoulder and finally beginning to make his way to the other knights.

Leon walks up to greet him, and Iseldir smiles and clasps his forearm as if they knew each other far better than they did:

“Good to see you again, Sir Leon, though I regret the circumstances.”

Leon sniffles slightly and nods, trying desperately to keep his professional façade up by ignoring his red-rimmed eyes:

“Indeed. Mordred said you were... here to help?”

Iseldir nods and moves towards the cave-in, sending a short glance to the still frozen King, his expression an odd mix of awed and patient an contemptuous, before gesturing the other Druids forward.

They all raise their hands towards the rubble, eyes golden as they chant lowly. The mountain begins to shake again, though it’s clearly a lot more controlled, and the knights can’t feel it even from only a few metres away; nevertheless, Percival and Lancelot still have to grab Gwaine to stop him from pouncing at them in his confused grief.

The knights all hold their breath, Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival in confusion, and Mordred and Lancelot in apprehension at what they would see. They know of Merlin’s... abilities. But this... a small part of them prayed that he had died, or that he was at least unconscious. A mountain as a blanket can’t be...comfortable.

After a few more moments the shaking becomes uniform, and boulders slowly begin to extract themselves from the cave entrance, floating through the air serenely and piling up a few metres to the side. The knights all hold their breath as the Druids strain, and Lancelot walks towards the cave with caution. His steps are slow and his hands are held out in front of him, ready to bolt at a moments notice, but he gets to the cliffside just as a narrow walkway through the middle of all the rubble opens up.

He looks back, waiting for Iseldir’s nod of approval before making his way into the darkness. None of the knights follow, despite their desperation to do so, knowing somehow that it wasn’t their place to rescue Merlin. Not this time.

Lancelot is gone for maybe twenty seconds before the others hear his wretched yelp, and it’s barely a few seconds later that he stumbles out of the cave again, pale as a sheet with sweat gathering on his forehead. He quickly staggers to the side, one hand using the wall to hold his weight up and the other resting on his bent knee as he leans over to vomit in the bushes. The knights are frozen in their shock, but tears gather in their eyes once more when Lancelot quickly turns to face Iseldir, wiping a hand sleeve across his mouth haphazardly, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks as he speaks desperately, his eyes manic:

“Please, please tell me he died. He... he can’t have lived through... lived through that.”

Iseldir gives him a mournful smile, but before he can say anything, Gwaine makes a dart to the entrance cave. Lancelot quickly steps in his way, digging his heels in and using all his strength to hold the bulkier man back:

“NO! Gwaine, you don’t want to see in there, ok? I swear to you, you will regret it for the rest of your life if you go in there.”

Gwaine pushes against him one last time, but quickly gives up, stumbling back and dropping to his knees with his face in his hands, muffling his cries. Lance’s distraught gaze finds Iseldir again, and the Druid nods:

“His body dies like any other, though we can only pray that it was quick. His resurrection will be incredibly... agonising however; I can appreciate the difficulty in what I’m asking, but might I request you stay at his side as he wakes? Myself and my group have strength in numbers and can hold the passage open for hours if needed, but I imagine he will begin to wake soon.”

Lance nods and moves towards the entrance again. No one mentions his uneasy steps or the way his hands shake. He pauses and looks back briefly at Arthur’s croaking question, but just gives a pointed look to an equally pale Mordred before continuing his journey:

“He’s... he’s still alive?”

Mordred steps in front of The King again, unwilling to let him run anywhere like Gwaine had tried, but it’s Iseldir that cryptically answers:

“No. But he will be.”

The Druid turns back to the cave without another word, re-focusing his magic onto the task at hand.

An odd silence deafens the knights, but if they listen hard enough, they find they can almost hear Lancelot’s gasping deep breaths as he once again lays eyes on... what’s left. Time seems to drag on, the silence getting heavier and heavier, though a long, low groan cracks through the atmosphere like a knife.

Percival lays a comforting but strong hand on Gwaine’s shoulder as everyone tenses, but no one manages to hold in their tears when the low groan gets louder and louder, rising in pitch until it’s an agonized screech.

Leon looks to Iseldir in horror, his eyes wide and his mouth open as he stutters over words he can’t force himself to say; Iseldir looks back at him, and the First Knight sees tears shining in his eyes at his Lord’s pain:

“The vital parts of his body, the skull and brain, the heart, the lungs, the spine, will have repaired themselves first, then he woke up. He will remain conscious whilst the rest of his body stitches itself back together; it is agony like no other.”

The screech halts all of a sudden with a sickening gurgle, the sound distinctly reminding the knights of someone choking on bone and blood.

Lancelot’s shaking voice echoes down the stone corridor:

“You... you can do this, Merlin. It’s ok, I’m not leaving you. Everything’s.. everything’s going to be ok, you can do this.”

At the horror and grief in his tone, Elyan stumbles forward to kneel behind Gwaine, covering his friend’s ears with his hands and pressing his forehead to the crown of his shaking head. Percival also sits with them, closing his eyes against the tears and attempting to breath slowly. Mordred stands still, but his hands and jaw are clenched tightly as he stares blankly at the grass at his feet, flinching ever so slightly at every groan and scream and cry that emerges from the darkness. Leon takes Arthur’s hand, and though The King doesn’t look at him, the tight way he squeezes his fingers is all the acknowledgement that he was still somewhat present that Leon needed.

The sound of Lancelot hiccupping through his sobs can be heard, but that’s quickly drowned out by sickening cracking sounds and more screaming.

Time seems both to drag and to fly by; anywhere from ten seconds to ten hours could’ve passed by the time Merlin stops screaming for good. The knights can’t help but feel selfish for how grateful they are that they didn’t have to watch it; listening to it was enough to give then nightmares for a long long time.

They finally hear a scuffling sound from within the cave and everyone’s eyes comes back into focus as they look up, not bothering to clear their faces of tears as they see Lancelot struggle to walk through the debris, Merlin hanging from his side with his arm over the knight’s shoulder.

Leon is the first to react, darting forward to help the exhausted, blood-soaked knight take Merlin’s weight. Everyone is frozen in horror at way Merlin’s tattered clothes hang off of him, absolutely drenched in blood; not even an inch of fabric has escaped being stained. Leon and Lancelot lay the groaning servant down in the soft grass as the Druids begin filling the tunnel with debris and rubble, wanting to make the structure as stable as possible before they stop holding the mountain up.

The golden-eyed sorcerers step back slowly, untensing when the mountain settles straight away; there must’ve been some sort of old magical trap in the stone, it would be best not to disturb it again if they could help it.

The knights gather around Merlin’s red form, noticing absent-mindedly that it was almost dark, so they must’ve been here for three hours at least. Mordred pushes to the front, his skin pale but his expression blank as he takes a clean rag and some water from his pack (the horses had been left at the entrance to the cave, so they thankfully hadn’t lost any supplies in the disaster). He made quick, but gentle work of cleaning Merlin as best he could, getting the blood off his face and hands and out of his hair. Lancelot pats him on the shoulder with a shaking hand before standing again and stumbling towards Iseldir; the knights barely pay him any attention as he walks off, focused entirely on Merlin’s limp body. No one attempts to touch him, not with the possessive glares Mordred is sending to anyone who gets too close.

The Druid cups Lance’s elbow, his grip surprisingly strong and supportive as Lancelot tries to gather his thoughts and force some sort of sentence out of his mouth. After a few moments, the quiet question eventually comes:

“What now?”

Iseldir smiles at him mournfully, glancing over his shoulder at the gathering of knights before looking back to Lance:

“That is up to The Once and Future King, I suppose. Emrys is exhausted, now that the pain has passed I imagine he’ll be asleep for several days. Look after him until he wakes, won’t you? I have faith that everything will work out in the end, but remember, Emrys, Sir Mordred, Lady Morgana, and yourself always have a place among us, should you want it.”

Lancelot gives him a small smile and steps back, nodding his gratitude at the other Druids before turning around and going back to Merlin, not looking back as they make their way from the clearing and back into the forest. He comes to stand behind Mordred, putting a hand on his shoulder and waiting until the younger man looks up at him before saying:

“It’s almost dark, we need to set up camp. He should have a spare set of clothes in his pack so you and I can take him to the river to wash and change him whilst the others get set up.”

Mordred takes a while to reply, but finally nods. He goes to pick Merlin up, but Gwaine beats him to it, gathering his unconscious form in his arms with more care than the knights have ever seen him exhibit before; Mordred freezes for a second, about to pounce on Gwaine for daring to touch him, but quickly relaxes as he remembers Gwaine’s reaction to... well... everything.

It doesn’t take them long to find a camping spot, Mordred and Lancelot leading the way back into the forest towards the river with Arthur bringing up the rear. Out of tactical necessity or guilt, no one knows, but no one bothers to ask.

Soon enough a fire is roaring and Mordred, Lancelot, and Gwaine have disappeared into the trees with Merlin. Elyan, Percival, and Leon share the occasional worried glance, both at the events of the day and Arthur’s disturbing stillness. It was maybe half a candle-mark after the others went to the river that Arthur cleared his throat and spoke, his voice croaky from tears and disuse:

“How... how long, do you think? How long as he been a sorcerer?”

His gaze stays firmly on the fire, even as the others bristle in slight anger, mistaking his questions for continued animosity. Leon is the first to answer, his tone slow and measured:

“To be that powerful, and to have Druids at his beck and call... a while, I imagine. Sire.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, and it’s Elyan that speaks next, his eyes narrowed and his tone far less regulated that Leon’s:

“Still plan on punishing him then? Trying to figure out how you should execute the man who just went through hours of endless agony to save your life?”

Leon looks to him sharply but doesn’t say anything, surprised by the normally-gentle Percival’s nod of agreement. Arthur looks up quickly as well, though his expression is one of shock and pain:

“What?! No! I wouldn’t.. I don’t... I just meant, how long has he had to hide? You... Gwaine, he was right. He’s probably saved our lives, my life, a dozen times pulling stupid stunts like that,-”

Arthur’s cut off by the others walking back into camp, Mordred giving him a blank stare as he says in a monotone voice:

“More than a dozen, Sire. Many more. He’s saved your life directly and indirectly hundreds of times. And never has he sought any credit. The two of you together are meant to be the saviours of this world, or so the prophecies say.-”

They all stare at him blankly as he sits down by the fire, Lancelot settling Merlin in Gwaine’s lap before covering them both with thick blankets and settling next to them:

“-Though I find myself running low on faith in you, My Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but stays silent, turning back to the fire again as the other knights stare at Mordred in confusion. He just huffs and rolls his eyes when he notices their questioning expressions, looking to Lancelot and frowning when the knight just nods at him knowingly. He sighs again, glancing to Merlin, still protectively wrapped up in blankets and Gwaine, before looking to The King and beginning to explain in a tired voice:

“Druid seers have been having visions of The once and Future King, that’s you,-”

Mordred points at Arthur, waiting for the blonde to look up and acknowledge the conversation before dropping his hand and continuing:

“-and Lord Emrys, that’s Merlin, uniting all of Albion under your shared rule, ushering in a Golden Age where the magic and the non-magic are once again in balance. Merlin was made aware of his role in these... fates, when he first arrived in Camelot. I also have a role, as do a few others, though no one else is aware of the... specifics.”

Arthur nods slowly, glancing worriedly to Merlin and Gwaine (who is paying absolutely no attention to the conversation, focused only on stroking Merlin’s hair and periodically checking his pulse) before looking into the fire again:

“The magic and non-magic in... balance?”

Mordred nods, the crease between his eyebrows growing slightly deeper as he slowly responds:

“Hmm. Magic is natural and necessary for the universe to function. You though the Gods wouldn’t intervene when your father started culling it?-”

Arthur blinked and sat up straight in his shock, but otherwise didn’t kick off, which Mordred was taking as a good sign, and continued:

“Magic is not evil, nor is it good. It just... is. Merlin is immortal, some say blessed, I say cursed, to be stuck on this earth, forever alone, until balance is achieved. How long, Arthur, are you willing to force him to wait?”

The knights all hold their breath in suspense, staring at Arthur who in turn is back to staring at Merlin. He gulps, blinks a few times, and shakes his head, before looking to Leon:

“How quickly can we make it back to Camelot?”

Elyan scoffs and Percival frowns, looking to the floor, the two of them obviously thinking that Arthur was dealing with this the same way he deals with his emotions: by ignoring it entirely until it became someone else’s problem (usually Merlin’s). Lancelot and Mordred just stare at him blankly, and Leon tilts his head in question before answering:

“About... five days? If we ride fast and don’t detour to the village like we said we would.”

Arthur nods, takin a deep breath as he stares into the fire again:

“Five days, I’ll make him wait five days. We can send a patrol back to the village when we get home, we’ll be too busy planning a... Golden Age, apparently.”

Elyan and Percival look up in wonder, Lancelot and Leon smile proudly, Mordred nods and grins, and Gwaine... well... Gwaine snores.

Merlin shuffles in his sleep, his look of pain morphing to a gentle smile as he curls into his knight’s chest, his soul, for the first time in a long time, finding peace.

THE END!!!

I think the ending might’ve been a little anti-climactic, but I’ve written so many magic reveals and “magic isn’t evil it just is” speeches that... I didn’t really know how to make it interesting or different😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!! It took me way longer than I’d hoped to get it finished because I’ve been so busy with work, but I’m relieved I finally got it done :D

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peaks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

544 notes · View notes

finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

I love your “little moments” series… I have a weak spot for dad!Harry💕 and I love the relationship between the family’s members 🤗 and I really hope u will continue to update it! And for this series I would like to request Harry doing the 73 questions interview for Vogue and his kids and wife make an appearance (u can choose if the kids are toddlers or teens) and they even answer some questions OR an Howard Stern interview where Harry is asked about his family,maybe the host makes like not so nice-low key shady comments on his wife and on Harry’s daughter coming out story. Ok I’ m done, so sorry ik it’s so long 😅 it’s just I love your series sooo muchhh 🥰🥰 ok I’m done love u have a good day 😘

i’d love to answer this one!! thank you so much for loving my little series💕this one’s for you and for the other request i got which i’m combing with this: “Harry is doing a interview on facetime when his kid crashes the interview.” so pls enjoy and yeah enjoy;

oli - 6, felix - 4, belle - 1

The day had finally arrived for Harry Styles to complete the 73 Questions with Vogue.

It had come to be the promo for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ and his schedule was booked with interview after interview after interview, and it wasn’t ideal for this to all be happening months whilst also having to look after three meddling toddlers, one of whom had only recently turned 1 years old.

The house was chaos. Fun, but chaos. And it was also the setting of this interview.

“Alright you lot, this way.” You shoved your children along to your living room, giving Harry the space he needed with Joe Sabia - the interviewer.

“Thank you love, see you later.” He blew a kiss to you and returned his focus to Joe. This interview was the first of many and it was also a major marketing ploy. These types of interviews were so highly recommended for Harry to be involved in and Jeff had thought it was about time for him to do one.

Joe had arrived around 15 minutes ago, just to

run over the script and remind Harry of the pre-determined questions - which reminded him of the answers that you’d run through with him the night before. Now the cameras were set up, the mic people were all at stand-by and Joe was ready it was time to begin. The children had been so fascinated by all these new people, after not seeing anyone for months due to the coronavirus pandemic, which is why it took a lot of trouble to get them to shuffle away from their beloved dad.

A fake door knock arose.

“Harry Styles hello!”

“Hi!” Harry waved at the camera.

“I’m here to do the Vogue 73 Questions, shall we get to it?”

“Of course! Come in!” Harry welcomed Joe into the house and shut the door behind him, not trusting his little ones to not escape if they were running wild.

“Beautiful house! Is it your only one?”

“No, but it’s my only one in London.” Harry made a point of not exploiting how many houses he did have and where they were. In fact, you still didn’t know about the Island that he was currently investing in just for you. You were a huge conservation activist and so Harry thought you could spend your free time helping the fragile ecosystem on this island.

“Did you design it yourself?”

“Me and my wife built the plans, but we go the experts to finish it all off.”

“What’s your favourite room?”

“Um, probably the living room.”

“Why?”

“So many of my favourite memories have happened in there.”

“Could you give us some?”

Harry could give loads, but they were far too precious for him to just give away. The living room wasn’t even a massive room, it was quite quaint with a couple of sofas, a logwood fire and then rugs and paintings on the walls. It was a home within a home. It was where Felix had taken his first steps. It was where Oli had spoken his first words. It was where Belle had fallen over for the first time and given herself nasty carpet burn. It was where presents were opened at Christmas. It was where you and Harry had made love next to the fire. It was where Felix and Oli had had their first tiny argument. It was where you spent family nights. If your house was a map then that room marked X the spot.

It was treasure. Priceless.

“My favourite would probably be when my wife, Y/N, spilt red wine all over the new white carpet and then proceeded to throw white wine over the stain because she’d read somewhere that it helps to get rid of it.” Harry chuckled at the memory.

“Did it?”

“No, God no. The carpet’s grey now.”

Joe laughed, as did Harry.

“I have to say Harry, you’re looking very fashionable today who are you wearing?”

“Gucci.” He blushed, because he knew that everyone would’e known that without question. He was wearing a lilac silk shirt with his name embroidered on it - but really it was to symbolise your last name not his - with a white wife-beater shirt and white shorts. He looked rich.

“Shouldn’t have asked really? Is your wife as much a Gucci avid fan?”

“She hates anything expensive. I think she still wears the same jeans she was wearing at university!” He knew you’d hit him later for saying that.

“So she’s a hoarder?”

“God yeah. She keeps everything and anything.” Harry laughed in admiration.

“Has she always been?”

“Always. When we went on our first date, her bag was so full that she couldn’t find her purse and she was so embarrassed because she thought I would think she was taking advantage of who I was. Anyways I did end up paying that night, but she had actually, I don’t know how, sent me money for her portion of the bill. From that moment I knew it was going to be her.”

“Do you write songs about her?

“Every day.” He smiled at the thought of the one he’d written just this morning.

“Which one is your favourite about her?”

“I don’t know about favourite, but the one I hold closest to my heart is probably ‘Fine Line’.” Harry stopped there, not wanting to share the intimate details of why and Joe respected that.

“Do your children have a favourite song of yours?”

“They go crazy for Kiwi and Golden. Belle loves Treat People and Oli knows the dance to that one actually.”

“Did you choreograph the dance for TPWK?”

“Partially, but I had help from my friend Paul and Y/N helped too actually.”

Harry and Joe had now made it through the house, weaving in and out of rooms, until they had made it to the Garden. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to shut the bifold doors to the living room and so as soon as Harry came into focus for your children they immediately ran for him. Oli and Felix could run quite well, but Belle was a lot slower. She was only learning how to walk and so she fell a lot, unless she was being supported by you or Harry. Oli reached his dad first and then Felix, to which Harry knelt down to embrace them in ‘super-dad’ hugs as he liked to call them.

“And who do we have here?” Joe asked.

“Trouble.” Harry replied in jest, but whispered something into his boys ears before backing away.

“Hello i’m Oli.” Oli waved proudly to the camera.

“Hi i’m Fix.” Feliz shied into his dads neck, embarrassed of himself. Harry kissed the back of his head and kept a hold oh him around his back for comfort.

“Fix?” Joe asked at the peculiar name.

“It’s Felix, but he can’t pronounce his own name for some reason so we just call him Fix now. Or Flix. Don’t we buddy?”

“Oh my! I’m so sorry about this!” You ran out in panic, knowing your one job was to keep the kids entertained and away from their dad. At least that was the original plan, but both Harry and Joe like this idea so much more. You were blushing red in embarrassment, picking up a fallen over Belle on your way over to everyone else. “So sorry.”

Belle became restless in your arms, reaching forward for her dad. She whined when she couldn’t quite reach and Harry immediately stood up to take his winging daughter from your arms. As he did, he leant into you and whispered in your ear whilst leaving it a warm kiss behind.

“You’re okay love. Don’t be sorry.”

“Hello Y/N!” Joe spoke.

“Hiya! How are you?”

“I’m great, and you?”

“Peachy.” You laughed, leaning down to collect Felix who was making grabby hands at you. Oli was quite happy standing next to both his parents, one of Harrys hands running through his tiny locks of hair.

“So now we have the family together, how do you feel to all be together?”

You looked to Harry smiled to find him smiling back already at you, knowing you both had a very similar answer. “It feels right. It feels like home.” You answered and Harry nodded in agreement, giving Belle a gentle rock in his arms.

“Are you okay with showing your children’s faces publicly?”

“No we’re not.”

“Looks like we have a hell of a lot of editing to do back at HQ.” Joe laughed, but completely understood the reasoning behind yours two decision. If needed, you could re-film scenes of this interview so that it didn’t include your children. Joe had done his best to keep the camera on you and Harry and luckily the children kept their faces buried in their parents necks anyways. “Is that going to be forever?”

“When they are old enough to decide whether they want to be in the spotlight then we’ll see.” Harry smiled, holding onto Belle tighter because all he wanted to do was keep her protected, and his, forever.

“You two seem like very good parents.” Joe spoke sincerely, and it made you swallow down a sob because it was always really lovely to hear such compliments - knowing you’d struggled with postnatal depression.

“Thank you Joe.” Harry nodded respectfully.

“Okay let’s carry on?”

The interview carried on until Harry had answered so many questions. He redid bits, due the children being too involved and he re-filmed answers to questions he found difficult to answer the first time around. He had such a great experience and was happy with the way that the day turned out.

406 notes · View notes