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queers-gambit · 6 months

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And Let Me Love You Anyway

[ part two of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader only description given: red hair and Daemon's able to lift you

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part one: "Tell Me Every Terrible Thing you ever did, And let me love you anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

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modernmutiny · 2 years

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There's a magic quality to sitting on my porch under the fairy lights at 2am eating cold pizza and reading one of my favourite novels on a chilly summer night bundled up in a sweater 3 sizes too big

That quality is dulled quite a bit by the fact that I'm doing this bc my sister is having sex in the apartment so loud I have to wear headphones to ignore it even outside but still

#teddy talks #personal #to delete later #literally walked in after work at 2am to hear a fucking porno going on #its a wednesday. she has work in 6 hours. ive been gone for nearly 11 hours. why did she pick now of all times :|#i felt like fucking izzy hands in that one ofmd episode trying to sleep against the mast and just hearing ungodly wailing #and repeated 'ugh thats it faster' from his boss #whilst said boss was trying to get unimpaled by his boyfrieds actual literal sword #anyway #i also have somewhere to be in 7 hours and havent slept more than 2 a night in a week #but hey im already in a manic state so its not as if id sleep tonight anyway 🤷🏻‍♂️#also tho. her room is right fucking next to mine. and she knows when im coming home #so shes just being an ass basically #whatever i have my fav pizza and fav book and some dr pepper so im good #str8 men dont last v long anyways so by the time i get cold hell be done probably #tho i was looking forward to resting and icing my leg bc it hurts like a bitch but oh well #im nonconfrontational to a fault so

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neet-elite · 7 months

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Party For Two — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian/ Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 6,077 Warnings: Love confession, mutual masturbation, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering Synopsis: Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most "recent" that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

It’s the usual hang out night, held at your farmhouse this time round because you insisted on doing your fair share of hosting, only, Sebastian can’t help but feel that it’s anything but usual. What was meant to be a four person TV series watch has now turned into a party for two. Sam, currently sick with allergies and Abigail, busy trying (and most likely failing) to beat ‘Journey Of The Prairie King’— something that Sebastian is sure will take more than one night of attempts, she’s already been stuck on it for a week... And well, he can’t really fault Sam for not wanting to make anyone else sick. If anything, he’s thankful to be the only one to show up besides you. It’s not really that bad of a turn out, not when he’s been secretly wanting to spend more alone time with just you and him anyway. Because see, he’s always been interested in you ever since you first came to the valley, and it’s as time’s went on and you slowly assimilated into his little trio friend group that he found himself thinking: yeah, four is a better number anyway. A small crush, he tells himself. Nothing serious, he jokes with Sam. No I wasn’t staring, he whispers to Abi. But deep down, he knows exactly what he feels, and as you finally come back into your living room with excitement in your eyes he knows it to be true— he wants to see that face every day going forward.

“Sorry for the wait!” You smile, his eyes drawn to your blushed cheeks when your attention is immediately focused on the TV in front of you. Tonight seems like a good time to confess, because while he certainly wants to do other things with you, it’d be rude not to make his intentions clear in the first place. To be a gentleman, and at the very least provide courtesy before anything else, smiling warmly back at you while you busy yourself with getting comfortable next to him. He likes you, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity right in front of him. Alone, with you. There really isn’t a better scenario to confess in, is there?

“S’all right,” He half-grunts as he repositions himself to be more facing sideways so that he can keep looking at your pretty face, as he always does. “You ready for the next episode?”

“Yes!” You beam back at him, remote control in your hand as you glance at him for what he thinks is a final time tonight before starting the weekly show, so he does his best to respond in kind. It’s one that the group had decided to watch together, and though Sebastian wasn’t that interested in the premise, he did enjoy the thought of spending more time with you, which is why he mostly agreed to join in the first place. He’s grown to like the show more anyway, though he’s unsure if that’s down to the (honestly, pretty mediocre) cinematography or because he gets to stare at you for an extended period of time each week. Lovingly, of course, he’d hate to come off as a creep. Always cautious about his looking, but feeling unable to control his desires for too long before he’s eyeing you up and down again. He always waits to dive deeper into his thoughts of you until he’s home at least, mostly because he can’t stand the thought of popping a boner in front of so many people and to be left unable to live it down for the rest of his life, but also because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Would rather the boner scenario to making you feel any negativity in any capacity. “I’m so glad Sam and Abi said it was cool to continue, I’ve been waiting all week to see what happens next!”

Ah, yeah, the romantic plot line or… Something. It’s difficult to pay attention to the current story when his vision is so full of you each week, but he’s heard you chat about it enough to get a good idea of what to expect next. The protagonist and her love interest, finally, seemingly getting together. It’s cute to see you so invested in something, and he too finds himself thankful that his friends have allowed the continuation of the series in the privacy of a company of two. “Yeah, real nice of them, huh?” He continues out of pleasantries, knowing just how much you wanna get started. Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

Even during the admittedly drawn out intro you’re cutely engrossed, the glow from the TV shining in your eyes so prettily, like there were stars or something, and he cringes at his sappy internal monologue. You’re still far more interesting to watch than whatever the screen is currently showing, and he takes his time when committing every detail of you to memory tonight. The innocent way your eyes are glued to the screen, the unknowing smile on your face as your favorite character shows on screen, the way you edge just slightly off your seat as if to get closer, closer to the screen instead of his arms. He huffs impatiently, low and quiet to himself at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to have you in his lap instead, he’d even still let you watch your favorite show, so long as he could hold you. Softly touching you, kissing the top of your head as a reminder that you are wanted. So deep in his thoughts of you that he doesn’t even realize how much time has passed— it can’t be that much— but he distinctly hears a moan that drags him back to reality. A soft but sinful one, his head snapping to the source of the sound as his cheeks instinctively flush. It’s coming from the TV, an intimate sex scene including those two characters you like so much. Already? He thinks to himself, so much for tension, before he finds his eyes once again falling on you, and he gasps a little at the sight that greets him.

Too many times he’s spent lonely late nights imagining exactly how you look right now, curled up in on yourself as you avert your gaze from the screen with an almost shy look on your face. Honestly, he never thought you’d ever optionally look away when this show was on, but he thinks you’re embarrassed. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face at the realization. It is a little awkward to be watching a sex scene with your friends, he can admit that. But he finds it difficult to feel uneasy himself, too amused at the way you clear your throat as the moans continue to fill the otherwise silence of your living room, keeping his vision locked on you to see exactly how you react to the explicit scene playing out with curiosity. Something he can use again you in the future.

“We can skip past it, if you want.” He offers before really thinking, his heart pace quickening as he tries his best to resolve your discomfort. Sure, it’s fun to watch you struggle, but all he wants is for you to be happy. “Really, I don’t mind—”

“No, it’s— I mean, it’s okay, really.” You stumble over your words, flashing him an appreciative smile before lowering your head once more to the ground.

Well, okay, he thinks. You’re clearly struggling to get through the scene, and though he’d rather you welcomed his help with open arms, he doesn’t mind watching you grow increasingly riled up by the exaggerated gasps and sighs from the show. In his more perverted mind, it’s easy to imagine that he’s watching porn with you right now, a quick look back at the TV screen shows naked bodies rolling around together, sharp inhales and teasing giggles. He wonders if you’d react the same way to him, then just as promptly he corrects himself and knows he’d have you moaning louder than that. And deep down in the pit of his stomach, or a bit lower than that, he feels as though this is his chance to show you that fact too, sighing to himself as he tries to resolve his inner conflict— and obviously fails. Because it’s about you, and he hasn’t a hope in Hell when it comes to you.

“You sure?” His voice is soft, spoken lightly and carried with faux reassurance while his hand stretches out to meet your trembling thigh, sucking air in through his teeth at the way you jump from his touch. “I don’t mind, cause it seems to be… Getting to you, y’know?” He smirks through his words, knowingly teasing you despite his heart wanting nothing more than to soothe. Can’t help it, you’re too cute like this, all blushy and pouty thanks to his words. And given the chance, he’ll do more than just soothe things for you anyway, so he doesn’t feel too bad in his taunts. He notices your thighs squeeze together in response to his words, or maybe it’s because of his feather light touch, he doesn’t mind either way. Regardless, his cock stirs in his tight pants at just how easy you seem to be, how innocent and sensitive you’re acting, shying away from his view at just how quickly he’s picked up on the state of you. You like this scene, maybe a little too much, huh? Not that he’s complaining, his own heart racing at just the light drag of his knuckles up and down your leg, catching the way you shiver into him, the small bite of your lip that causes his cock to jerk against his leg. Ah, maybe confessing can wait a little bit longer.

It takes him a moment to find his voice again when you refuse to answer, and he’s surprised to hear the breathy tone he carries with his words— “You can… Y’know, deal with it, if ya want.” He pauses, gauging your reaction to his invitation to touch yourself. Internally, he’s debating on his next words with extreme caution. Sure, it’s normal to masturbate, everyone does it, everyone knows everyone does it. But, is it too weird to talk about it with your friends? Maybe only if they’re the opposite gender, right? Because he’s had countless conversations about the topic with Sam, but never with Abigail. And he realizes then that it’s because he’s got a crush on you, and rather than it being an invitation, it’s an attempt at begging. “Really, I don’t mind.” He simply settles on, smiling reassuringly at you when your eyes finally meet his. And it’s true, he doesn’t mind, would relish the opportunity to relieve himself in private too if he’s honest— the look you’re giving him going straight to his cock as he imagines fucking his friend right on the very couch you sit on.

And then quietly, almost inaudible, he hears you squeak: “Really? You’re okay with that?” and he all too eagerly nods.

“Absolutely. Who am I to judge what you get off to, right?” He half laughs, attempting to make the otherwise awkward situation just a bit less embarrassing for you, shifting in his seat to hopefully make his hard cock less noticeable. “Take your time, I’ll be right here—”

Oh, wait, you’re undressing right in front of him? Instinctively, he looks at your face for answers, a quick flit up only to be met with a playful grin. Seductive, maybe? He knows better than to assume, though more than that, he knows better than to speak up when your crush is taking the first step towards assumed intimacy. Well, there’s no hiding his hard on now, is there? Your bold actions causing his pants to feel even tighter, his hands frozen in his lap while he carefully watches you peel off each individual layer of clothing slowly. So slowly that he’s convinced you’re teasing him, the continued gasps and groans emanating from the TV fading into the distant background as he instead favors listening to the soft shuffles of your clothes, the muffled thud as they’re dropped carelessly to your floor. Fuck, he already thought you were pretty before, but seeing you take action like this almost makes him dizzy with how attractive he finds you, and his inability to take the initiative back from you due to how in awe he is of your body only further turns him on. He knows you know well enough that he hadn’t meant to take care of “business” right here and now, in front of him on your well worn couch, but he can hardly complain at how you chose to mischaracterize his words when he’s no better than you are right now. “I—” he tries to speak. “I mean— fuck, okay—” He’s laughing, though not at you, and your cheeky side smirk back at him lets him know you understand.

“Is this okay?” You whisper at him.

“Shit, yeah, no, it’s cool. I— I don’t mind, go ahead.” He struggles to get the words out fast enough, but he smiles back at you when hearing your nervous giggle.

Without realizing, he anxiously runs his hand through his hair, thumbing stray strands out his face so he has a better view of your revealing body. The last item of clothing drops and he exhales harshly, unaware of the breath he was holding up until that point. You’re naked bar your underwear, and he curses low under his breath at the mere sight. This is confirmation, isn’t it? That his feelings aren’t just one sided, that he was taking too long to confess and so your hand was metaphorically forced, swallowing hard at the sight of your hand actually dropping to pet lightly at your clothed cunt. “Fuck y’can’t just— I mean I want you to it’s just—” He’s already gasping, replaying scenarios he’s fucked his fist to at night but coming up empty. Nothing compares to you right now, the cute blush on your cheeks, the way your lips part with heavy breathing. Shit, okay, he needs to tell you exactly how he feels. Wide palmed stroking at his painfully hard cock, no shame left in his system when you’ve just given him a wordless go ahead, he’s ready to cum just from your show of want— but he instead just teases himself. Wants to really show his appreciation of you soon enough, but first he needs to take control back. You’ve had your fun, now let him.

He clears his suddenly dry throat while you angle yourself towards him, biting your lip to presumably stifle moans. No, don’t do that, he thinks, cocky confidence taking over his mind with the understanding that you’re waiting, seeking his command like a good girl— and he’s all too happy to give in to you. Watching you drag a single finger up and down your clothed slit idly, eyeing at the growing wet patch near the bottom, fuck he wants a taste— “You can take em off.” He quickly glances up at you, but as if physically pulled back down, he’s drawn to look at your cunt again, his palm circling against the clothed wet tip of his cock as he leaks precum all over the inside of his pants for you.

And though he’s controlled mostly by his cock right now, he’s still a little surprised to see you listen to his words, his voice coming out in a shocked rasp of “Fuck, you’re really doing it…” which is less of a question and more of an admiration. Because yes, while this is the single hottest thing to ever happen to him, he also genuinely likes you. Wants to be with you for more than just this, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone, right? Seems you agree from how eagerly you get moving, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs as you hike them up a little, knees pressed to your chest to give him such a good fucking view, oh my God, of your pretty little cunt before your panties peel and drop to the pile of your other clothing on the floor. His cock hard and wet, drooling over his legs enough to prompt him into at least unbuttoning his pants to offer just a little relief— only a little. Because he’s more focused on you right now, and how pretty your thighs look when pressed together like that, and how tasty your wet little cunt looks as he finds it difficult to keep himself sat in place at the other end of the couch from you, wanting only to dive head first between your legs to eat you dry— he’s never been hornier than he is right now, and it’s all your fault. He’s got front row seats to the best show in the house— you, and he’s filled with need to show you that you’re a lot hotter than whatever they were showing on TV.

“Touch yourself, please— God,” He ends up begging, too turned on to really care for the embarrassment of sounding so needy, and it seems you’re much the same. A small whine escaping your lips that, he swears, almost makes him cum on the spot. So completely fraught with need for you right now that his body automatically turns to face you, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, his rock hard cock front and center for you to masturbate to— no regret present on his features as he looks to your moving fingers with glazed over eyes, his mouth remaining slightly agape while he breathes shallowly. This is so much better than anything his mind could create, his chest tight with want for you and his balls full of seed, the palm resting on his cock now digging harder, circling his cock faster in a plead to have you match his pace. You must know what you do to him, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking your time so slowly, bitting on the inside of his cheek with impatience until your finger finally meets your slit and your legs magically open. And fuck, what a sight that is. His hips jut up on their own accord once you’re in position, head tilted back slightly as if to try and calm himself down before snapping back to watch you part your lips and drag a finger from bottom to top on your slit.

No amount of porn could have prepared him for this, the intimacy present in each glide of your finger up and down your cunt, collecting the slick drooling from your hole to drag it back up to your clit. He can hear just how wet you are, heart caught in his throat as he swallows thickly in concentration. “You’re not watching the show…” You mewl, and he has half a mind to pin you under him right there and then.

“Don’t care, this is better.” He’s quick to moan. “Can you— Can you go a little faster?”

You nod, and he has to fight with himself to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the sweet sounds you let out at the increased pace. His fist wraps tight around the bit of cock he can reach before he grows immediately frustrated and instead digs his hands under his pants to free his cock some more, sighing into the relaxed feeling of freedom until he once again starts to palm at himself— then he’s tight lipped groaning. He feels like a dirty pervert, touching himself to you touching yourself, and he wonders if you feel the same. He thinks you should feel like royalty, the full effect you have on him in clear display as he touches himself to you, struggles to keep his hands to himself when you sound so pretty for him. And you’re such a good listener too, his cock jerking to the understanding that you want to please him too, fucking your little cunt faster as per his words, your palm sticky with slick that he wants to lick all clean for you.

He can’t hold back much longer.

“Do you mind if I—?” He asks, alluding to his cock as he nods down to it— still clothed, still rock hard and needy, still leaking precum, still wanting to be balls deep in you.

A quick nod of your head and he’s pulling his pants off faster than he’s ever done in his life, boxers coming with them as he clumsily tugs them off enough to kick them the rest of the way, throwing them into his own pile of clothing on the floor to half match your state of nakedness. He hisses into the cold air that kisses his tip once free, almost moaning as it slaps against his tummy with how rigid he is. “So fuckin’ hard—” He hums, mostly to himself, but he’s happy you’ve heard him too given the soft moan you let out too. “Look at what you did to me, fuck, what you do to me—” He praises you, leaning back against the armrest of your couch to fuck his hips forward, just a little, as if to really show off just how much he wants you, his fist quickly connecting to the base of his cock before he’s dragging it upwards to collect the copious amounts of precum you’ve pulled out of him and pulling back down, coating his whole length wet to tug at. And he’s not shy about it either, too far gone with the lust pooling in his tummy to care much for anything other than the need to get off, to get off with you. As he always does, really, even if most nights he’s alone in doing so, but now’s his opportunity to show you how much he likes you— cock hard and ready just for you, because of you.

He doesn’t mind an audience as he jacks off, so long as that audience consists of you. Hurriedly fucking his fist to a desperate tempo to try and quell the butterflies that fill his chest every time you make a sound, pulling the hem of his hoodie up to reveal some of his toned tummy for you to gawk at, to somewhat return the favor. God, you sound better than he thought you would, his own moans caught and quiet as he does his best to instead make room for you, to listen intently, ignoring the loud schlick of his fist pumping up and down on his dribbling cock and rather focusing on the wet squelch of your little cunt. How fast your fingers fuck into yourself, how he hopes to God you’re thinking of him, wanting to replace your fingers for his cock as he so urgently needs to. No words are said, not that he can think of any anyway— head empty and replaced with primal need, wanting moans shared among friends as he gets off with you. How he wishes he could speak though, to tell you how hot you are, how he’s dreamed of this for so long, how he’s so close to cumming just from watching you— doesn’t even have to be touched by you, just being in your presence is enough to get him off. And he’s focusing so hard on the way you flick at your clit, how fastly you circle against it, learning exactly what you like so he can hopefully mimic it at a later date all while he’s thrusting into his tightly closed fist and mumbling your name like some sort of prayer.

He’s getting dangerously close, and he hasn’t even been able to appreciate you like you deserve, show you exactly how he feels about you. And so—

“You wanna— wanna ride me?” He ends up choking out, acting out of pure instinct and talking before fully realizing his words, eyes rolling to the back of his head despite his best efforts when instead of verbally responding, you start climbing towards him. All of it happens so fast, his knees buckling and straightening out on the couch, sliding further down the length of it so that only his head remains on the armrest and you have plenty room to sit on top. His hands work on autopilot, finding home on your hips to help steady you above his lap as your nails rake up his tummy, digging under his hoodie to drag it further up his chest, causing him to moan into the hunger of your actions. Urgency is what he feels, desperate for the feeling of you wrapped around him as you immediately take hold of the base of his cock as soon as you can, his hips bucking into your touch to seek the tightness of your hole, unable to stop the tense moans tumbling from his open mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, guide it in— Sit on it, yeah?” he hopelessly babbles, fingers digging into the fat of your waist to try and pull you down his cock as you catch the tip to your hole— and then he’s done for. Completely at your mercy as you slow the tempo down, gradually fucking more of his length into your little cunt with subtle bounces until he’s all the way inside and he can finally breathe again. It’s difficult keeping himself held back enough not to hurt you when you feel better than anything he’s experienced before, his jaw strained and appreciative moans high-strung as he wills his hips to still for a second or two, let you grow accustomed to his fat length.

It takes him a second to actually collect his breath though, mind clouded by how tight and warm you are wrapped around his stupidly hard cock— so much so that it’s impossible to form any coherent thought as you sit flush on his lap. “No idea.” He manages to mumble, groaning at the seductive way your breathe huh? in response. Causes his hips to fuck upwards into you regardless of his best efforts, trying to thrust deeper into your tiny hole until there’s nothing left for you to take and grinding his hips against you. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this, fuck.” His hands dragging your waist down to circle you on his cock for you, doing all of the heavy lifting simply because he can’t stop. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside of you, shit, y’feel so good—” he continues to gasp, his ass lifted off the couch under him to really drive his cock further into you. The action causing you to whine his name so perfectly, so sweetly as he circles his cock in you that he’s forced into more movement. Like something inside of him snaps, the last remaining resolve he has to treat you right falling the moment he hears his name sounding like that. And then he’s going, his beg for you to ride him thrown out the window as soon as he thrusts once into you, instead forcing you to fall back down on his cock with every precise hump of his cock into you, bouncing you up and down at his own pace due to how powerful and needy his thrusts are. You’re not riding him so much as he’s fucking you from below, keeping you pinned close to his cock so that he’s barely exiting your perfect cunt despite humping you into the air. He holds on to you like his life depends on it, a droning whine escaping his lips at the increased friction he fucks into you with, spilling loads of precum against your insides that inevitably end up running back down his cock with each speedy thrust. And your tits, God your fuckin’ tits, hypnotized by they way they bounce with his fucks— so badly does he want to reach out and grab one of em, drag it into his mouth for him to feed on while he fucks you raw— fuck he’s fucking you raw. A rough growl clawing up his throat at the thought, feels too fucking good to warn you of his predicament, can’t stop fucking into you like he was under a spell.

A shuddered “Tight little cunt, yeah? Feel s’fuckin’ good, shit— Look so hot riding me like this—” cut off only by a gasp at the sound of you so needy for more, his cock throbbing inside of you with want to preform but he’s so close it almost pains him to hold back. He was right, you are louder than the show girl, self assurance running through him and going right to his tip with the confidence that he’s fucking you better, the loud skin on skin slap resonating in the room to drown out whatever is left of the TV. He’s never felt so good before in his life, unable to even imagine going back to a life of just his hand now that he’s had a taste of your cunt, the feeling of your legs squeezing around him as you attempt to match his speed only to inevitably fail from how frantically he thrusts into you from below is too fucking cute, his balls tight and taut as he nears his end before he’s even truly started: something that would be embarrassing if not for the fact that he hopes you understand it’s because you really do feel that fucking good and he’s genuinely that in love with you that he can’t— he can’t hold back any longer. Fucking his dream girl while she displays herself so completely on top? The sight of your tits, your cute scrunched up face, the feeling of your cute little cunt sucking his cock so well? Yeah, there’s no way he was gonna last very long.

“Sorry— M’sorry, babe—” he whines, a high pitched sound to match his eager humps as he’s unable to stop the predictable from happening, looking directly into your eyes in hopes of communicating just how badly he wants to make it up to you immediately following as he thrusts into you a couple more times, fast and hard, burying himself completely into you before shooting a fat load deep inside your tiny cunt. A soft sob of your name followed by loud, gasped moans, like he’s forgot how to breathe again, his hips still obsessively humping into you to prolong his orgasm— the best of his life, might he add— and to fuck his cum deeper into you in some sort of innate need to claim you, insides and all. He said he was sorry, but he isn’t really. Not even when you let out a pathetic whine from the loss of stimulation, promising you: “Jus’ a minute, gimmie a sec.” With harsh pants as he allows himself to come down just enough to move back into action. He wants to act fast, to build upon what he’s just promised you.

“C’mere,” he breathlessly pleads with you, signaling for you to hop off his cock for a moment, forgetting all about the mess his cum will surely stain into your couch. “Jus’ sit right there, trust me.”

And because you’re a good girl, you listen, and he tuts affectionately down at you to soothe the pout you’re sporting. “Lean back a bit for me, yeah? Let me apologize.” He whispers, soft and flirtatiously, helping to guide you into position on your back, similar to how he was just moments ago while he hovers over you. The confused stare you look back at him with is so cute, and he can feel his mushy affection for you edge back in as his cock controlled brain starts to calm down, now focused solely on making sure you’re seen to as his dominant hand dips and disappears between your legs. Not a second later and he’s collecting the dripping cum he’s just fucked into you from your hole, using it as lube to rub gently at your clit as you look at him with shock. “Told ya.” He smiles, rubbing soothingly at your inner thigh with his free hand while he strokes your puffy clit. “Sensitive girl, made me feel so good, fuck— Y’look so pretty like this,” he dotes on you, hoping his words will help you get off where his cock failed— though he doesn’t think you mind too much. Not with how your grasping so insistently to his loose hoodie for stability, or from the way your legs wriggle and draw him closer, the room filled with your enticing moans each time he completes a circle on your clit. Now, with a clearer head and with you quite literally in the palm of his hand, he coos down at you with intent. “Think I love you. Really.” And he can’t stop the loving smile that tugs on his lips, nor the surprised sigh that sneaks up on him as he feels your locked thighs tremble around his back.

Next time, he’ll have you cumming on his cock. He has to, the sight of your back arching into him, the lewd expression you wear so well with the voiceless moan, fuck, he can feel his cock harden again just from pleasing you. His heart full at the thought that hearing his confession is what finally made you cum, humming quietly down to you while he finger fucks you through your high, thumb still rubbing lightly against your used clit while you gush for him— “So pretty, good girl.” He compliments you, praising you for a job well done in getting him off and satisfying his need to see you finish, too. It’s all he wants, really. To make you happy by any means necessary, and he’s happy to fill the role you had him play tonight any day, gently helping you come down from your high with slowly decreased movements until you lazily smile back at his adoring expression.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks calmly, because he obviously knows the answer already, but he wants to check in with you regardless.

You nod sleepily, followed by a soft “Mhm, thank you.” Before reaching you arms out for him to lean into, and he enthusiastically gives you what you’re seeking, his half hard cock resting against your sticky cunt as he wraps his arms around you too, pulling you in for a tight hunched over hug on your (now) stained couch.

Better than any show ever, he’s sure.

“I meant it, y’know.” He whispers against your neck after a silent moment, nosing further into it until he’s able to place a few light kisses against your heated skin with a smile.

“I know.” You reply, and he can’t help but remain hopeful when you squeeze his body tighter, wrapping your legs around him further to ask for more closeness. “But you made me miss my favorite show, so…”

He laughs a genuine, deep, bark of laughter against your shoulder before he huffs defiantly, pulling himself off your exhausted body with the intent on chastising you for alluding to the fact that your show is better than his sex, but he can’t find any strength left in him to tell you off after catching sight of how pretty you are when all fucked out. So instead, “I know, I’m sorry.” He relents, sitting back into his original side of the couch to stretch out a bit. “We can try watching again after a shower, if you want?”

“Yeah.” You yawn, and his heart hurts with just how much he loves you. The simplistic domesticity of the moment getting to his head as you extend a hand for him to hold, to help you get to your feet. “I’d like that.”

He’ll just have to get your return confession out of you… After your show.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #- writing

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Hands

Plot: Y/n and Joel work to escape the ambush with their lives, sharing an unexpected tender moment after.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.4 spoilers, language, graphic description of injuries, canon-typical violence, death, blood, guns, knives, insinuated a**ault, (16+)

A/N: THERE WAS ONE BED. Sorry, I’ve been waiting five days to say that. Anyway, this one was super fun to write. As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be tagging anyone unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Enjoy, and good luck to all going into tonight’s episode 🙏🏻

——————

June 6th, 2002. Austin Texas.

Summer in Texas brought a brutal heat, but once the sun set, it was bearable to a point of enjoyment.

Y/n’s fingers drummed anxiously against her steering wheel as she drove to the fairgrounds. If she’d been nervous about her first date with Joel, this was worse. If she couldn’t fit in with the family, there was no point in them going any further. The night had to go well.

She pulled into the dirt parking lot, taking a deep breath before switching off her car. Sarah and her had already gotten along when she’d driven her home. And Tommy already felt like an old friend. Everything would be fine…probably.

Tommy, Joel and Sarah waited at the front of the fair, the latter two peeking through the sea of people for one specific person.

“Can’t tell which one of you’s more excited,” Tommy chuckled, looking between his niece and brother.

“I’m excited,” Sarah replied, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look, “Dad’s nervous.”

“I am not nervous,” Joel stated, his fiddling thumbs over his pockets contradicting his words.

Before Tommy could get in a jab, the three of them spotted Y/n’s head bobbing through crowd. Sarah and Tommy waved wildly, Joel tried to keep his restrained.

“The yellow rose of Texas,” Tommy cheered, beating Joel to give her a hug.

Y/n laughed as Tommy spun her around. “Nice to see you too,” she grinned.

Sarah jumped forward, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Hi, Y/n!”

“Hey,” Y/n greeted her, unsure whether or not she was supposed to hug her or if it was too much or-

Her excessive thoughts died in thin air as soon as her and Joel’s eyes met.

He sheepishly walked forward, hoping it didn’t seem like he wasn’t enthusiastic about her being there. He was just so fucking nervous.

“Dad,” Sarah piped up, “Doesn’t Y/n look pretty tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy added, taking Y/n’s hand and twirling her around, “Better make a move before she realizes she can do better.”

Joel nodded along, “Alright, alright,” he took Y/n’s hand, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, all her anxiety suddenly seemed worth it.

“Should we get this show on the road?” Tommy asked, slapping his hands together and pulling Sarah along with him.

Joel and Y/n’s fingers stayed interlocked as they walked in.

“She’s been bouncing off the walls all day,” he admitted, “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

Y/n forced a laugh, “You’re doing wonders for my anxiety…”

Joel laughed, sneaking a kiss to Y/n’s temple while his family’s backs were turned.

The night, however, ended up going better than either one of them expected. Sarah was glued to Y/n’s side all night, barely acknowledging her uncle or Joel. She insisted that Y/n sit with her on all the rides, even grabbing her hand on one of the coasters. Y/n made an effort in between attractions to find out Sarah’s interests, finding common ground in music mostly. Joel’s daughter was witty, smart and a downright joy to simply be around.

Joel watched the whole thing, his heart bursting with affection for them both. Under the glow of the carnival lights, he wasn’t sure what he had been so worried about. He had the two most incredible girls in his life and it was crazy to think they wouldn’t get along.

They’d walked nearly the entire fair before Sarah spotted the ferris wheel. “We haven’t done that one yet,” she said, “Y/n?”

“Well, if your dad’s recovered from the tilt-o-whirl,” Y/n shrugged, smiling smugly at Joel.

Joel pointed a finger at Y/n, “Don’t even mention that death contraption.”

The four of them made their way through the line, zigging and zagging. Somewhere along the way, Sarah drifted behind Joel and Y/n to walk alongside Tommy, forcing the two of them together. They filed up the steps and into the cart, expecting Tommy and Sarah to be right behind them.

“Oh,” Sarah put her hands to her stomach, “I’m not feeling great.”

Tommy grabbed his niece’s shoulders with great concern, “Oh, no. Maybe we should go sit you down.”

Joel, though already barred in his seat, tried to stand up. “Sarah, I-“

“You guys go ahead,” she waved her dad off, “I think I just need some water or something.”

“Well, no,” Y/n said, trying to push the bar up, “We can just-“

The wheel creaked to life and began to lift Y/n and Joel up into the air.

“Well, fuck,” Joel muttered, frantically looking around as if he could somehow stop it in motion, “I wonder if it’s somethin’ she ate.”

Y/n peered down, searching out Tommy and Sarah’s forms. She chuckled when she finally spotted them. “Something tells me she’ll live,” she tapped Joel on the shoulder and pointed downwards.

There, back in line for more greasy carnival food, was Sarah, nearly bouncing beside her uncle as they watched Y/n and Joel.

Joel threw his head back in relief and laughter, blindly seeking out Y/n’s hand.

“Your daughter might just be an evil genius,” Y/n smirked.

“She’s diabolical,” Joel replied, turning to face Y/n with a lovesick grin, “She loves you.”

Y/n folded her other hand over Joel’s, “She’s magic. Just pure sunshine.”

“No, I mean,” Joel sat up straighter, “She’s never taken to anyone like she has you. It’s just been us and Tommy her whole life and the way she’s accepted you is just…”

Neither one needed to say it, they could both feel it. Sarah had taken Y/n in like she’d always been there.

“I’m honored,” Y/n beamed.

Joel felt like he was locked in a tractor beam, Y/n’s eyes drawing him in further and further. The two of them startled when the ferris wheel creaked again and they stopped moving, having reached the top of their climb.

“So,” Y/n started, “Did I pass the Miller family test?”

Joel took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulders, dragging her frame closer to him till they were pressed against one another. Y/n interlocked her fingers with his, her stomach nearly in her throat from the closeness.

Joel knew that the next seconds were crucial. If he kissed Y/n, he was signing away his future. There would never be another woman his eyes followed across the room. The room would empty as soon as she walked in. There would never be another first date, sweaty palms and racing heartbeat accompanying. The nerves would morph into different firsts, ones of far more significance. If he gave his heart fully to this woman, it would never again be his.

Joel rubbed a thumb against Y/n’s shoulder and smiled, “Flyin’ colors, Rosebud.”

Y/n was practically glowing, relief radiating out of her. She knew that Sarah was the final puzzle piece to her and Joel, and it had all come together gloriously. There were no more obstacles, there was only them.

Joel’s eyes flickered to Y/n’s lips, the signal that meant something beautiful was about to happen. She held firm, not wanting to move and upset the electricity of the moment. Joel’s head slowly drifted forward, his nose gently sliding against Y/n’s. She couldn’t hide her shaky exhale as their skin finally touched.

Joel allowed a few seconds, for the possibility of her backing out, before letting himself lean in fully and kiss her.

The pure relief that ran through their bodies paralyzed them, their lips pausing as if the commit the feeling to memory. The shock wore off and Y/n pushed her lips deeper against his, seeking out the second kiss. Joel met her, bringing his free hand up to hold her cheek in place. His fingers spread across the side of her face, two brushing against her jawline. It was nearly a lazy kiss, like they knew this was just the first of a million and they could take their time with it.

There, above a sea of noise that faded in their ears, Y/n and Joel felt their uncertainties turn to stone. They were each other’s future.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

The crash could have been worse.

“Ellie?” Y/n panted, reaching blindly behind her.

“I’m okay,” Ellie grabbed hold of Y/n’s arm.

“You’re not hurt, nothin?” Joel asked both of them, his eyes frantically scanning them for injuries.

Ellie shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Y/n confirmed, checking Joel’s face and hands for blood.

Inevitable gunshots began to hit the truck, sending them ducking for cover.

“Belts off,” Joel shouted, “Fast!”

They unbuckled and Ellie crawled out her side of the truck, Y/n and Joel following. Y/n had the good sense to grab her backpack as she slid out. They crouched down behind the truck, Joel reaching back in to grab Y/n and his shotguns.

One of their assailants called out to them, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!”

A lie.

Y/n and Joel loaded their guns in preparation. They could fight, but Ellie couldn’t.

Joel spotted a hiding spot through the wall. “Hey,” he caught Ellie’s attention, “You see that hole? Can you squeeze through?”

A couple warning shots caused them all to flinch, Y/n throwing an arm over Ellie’s body instinctively.

“When I say go, you crawl through that wall,” Joel instructed, “And you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until we say, okay?”

A bullet flew through one of the truck’s windows, the shards of glass raining around them. Y/n was directly under its stream, her adrenaline blocked the feeling of the small cuts.

“And they’re not gonna hit you,” Joel kept going, Ellie was already turning in concern towards Y/n, “Look at me!”

“Ellie,” Y/n urged, “Listen to him.”

Ellie turned to Joel, he drove the promise home. “They’re not gonna hit you.”

Another bullet came too close for comfort.

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet,” Joel instructed, trying to give her as much information as possible in an attempt to soothe her fears.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded, Y/n squeezed her hand for reassurance.

“Okay,” Joel said, looking over to Y/n. The two of them had to be perfectly in sync for the plan to work. Y/n gave a confidant nod and he returned it.

“GO!”

On cue, Ellie began to belly crawl across the floor while Y/n and Joel got to their feet. When one of them took a shot, the other would stay down. They timed their reloads so that someone was always up and firing.

While crouched behind the truck, Y/n glanced over at the hole in the wall, the only thing left visible was Ellie’s leg being pulled through.

“She’s in,” Y/n told Joel, popping up as he went down and firing a shot at one of their attackers.

Joel was making up their escape route on the fly, trying to find a place safe enough to take cover behind. “Come on,” he muttered, leading Y//n behind a large piece of equipment.

Y/n crouched beside Joel, her mind racing with grim possibilites as the crunching of glass came closer. Joel was the better shot, without question, but her fear for Ellie’s life made her much quicker to the trigger. Joel motioned for her to stay down, he would take the shot.

Waiting for their attacker to be in perfect position, Joel rose to his feet and fired a deadly bullet.

Joel exhaled, he’d been holding his breath as they’d lay in waiting. He offered Y/n a hand, which she took, and pulled her to her feet. He went to reload the shotgun, but it had become jammed.

A body burst through the door, barely leaving Joel and Y/n time to react. Joel smacked the butt of his gun into the assailant’s, the almost-fatal shot hitting the ceiling instead. Y/n backed up and took aim, but the man swung around and knocked the shotgun out of her hands. Joel was trying to draw him away from Y/n, but as she went to attack him, she was thrown into Joel and they were backed up against their shelter. They struggled against the man as he tried to shove his gun against their throats.

Even though there were two of them, he quickly overpowered them and pulled them to the floor. He pinned Y/n and Joel down, the rifle big enough to dig into both their throats.

“Now you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers,” he threatened, “What you fuckin’ did, you killed yourself, motherfucker!”

Y/n and Joel began to feel the oxygen drain from their lungs, both of them kicking wildly in a sad attempt to free themselves. The sounds of Y/n’s struggles cut right to Joel’s heart, making him fight harder.

Y/n tried with her remaining strength to push the gun away from them, but without her and Joel at their best, it was fruitless. She gagged, her eyesight was beginning to blur. Their journey couldn’t end here, not like this…

Desperately trying to comfort her in what was assuredly their last moment, Joel’s hand, that was barely brushing Y/n’s, fought to slide a finger over hers. If they were going out, they were going out together.

And then suddenly, the weight lifted from them. Y/n fell onto her side, Joel landing up against her with an arm resting against her convulsing abdomen. They sputtered for air, coughing and hacking as it refilled their chests. Y/n held onto Joel’s arm as she wheezed, gripping him for traction as she tried to draw a true breath.

Joel forced himself up onto his arm, turning around and seeing their salvation came in the form of Ellie and a pistol. He should have known that she wasn’t going to listen…

“No, no, no, no, no,” Joel and Y/n’s attacker cried as Ellie took a step towards him, “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore.”

Finally gaining enough oxygen to see straight, Y/n leaned up, coming face to face with Ellie. Her heart broke at the sight of her, so young, having been forced to make an irreversible decision.

“I’m gonna go home,” the guilty promised, “I’ll tell everyone you’re good,” he began to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work.”

Joel’s protective arm remained around Y/n the whole time.

“My mom isn’t far,” the man continued to bargain for his life, “If you could get me to her.”

Y/n tapped Joel’s hand, shrugging his arm off as they got to their knees. Joel looked down at their hands, blood smeared on both their palms. The slow stream was coming from the back of Y/n’s hand, the spray of the truck’s glass window had cut her up good.

“We could trade with you guys,” the man tried to reason with a teary-eyed Ellie, “We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan, I’m Bryan. What’s your name?”

Joel and Y/n helped each other up, steadying one another as they got to their feet. The sound of their assailant speaking, trying to be friendly to Ellie set Y/n off. She took a threatening step toward him, Joel had to hold her back by her hips.

They turned to Ellie, who looked like she was somewhere between relieved and tortured. Joel held out a hand, silently demanding the gun still shaking in her palm. She handed it over without hesitation.

Bryan had begun to weep behind them, as if that made any difference to the people whose lives he’d been ready to steal. Joel turned slowly, stuffing the gun in his jacket pocket and pulling out his own pistol.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bryan sniffled, picking up the knife he would have most likely killed Y/n and Joel with and dropping it at their feet, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.”

Joel bent over to pick it up, turning to Ellie after. “Get behind the wall,” he growled.

“No, no, no, no,” Bryan cried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m-“

Ellie looked between him and Y/n, who nodded towards the hole as a back up to Joel’s order. Moving mechanically, Ellie hurried back through the hole to the others side of the building.

Bryan continued to beg for mercy, something Joel had been short on for twenty years. Y/n, usually the more reasonable of the two, stood over the sniffling young man, seething. He’d been ready to kill them like they were nothing. He’d have killed Ellie, or worse, taken her and allowed his friends to commit unspeakable acts to her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

Joel didn’t bother asking Y/n for her opinion as he stalked forward. He ignored Bryan’s pleas, the shrieking cries for his mother. As he brought the knife down on him, Y/n turned away, desiring justice but unable to watch its delivery.

When it was over, Joel looked over to Y/n, who was turned towards the wall. He didn’t have time to feel any guilt over causing further damage to their past selves. He made his way over to her and took her hand into his, examining the bloody cuts.

“Window,” she choked out, pulling away from his touch, “I’ll clean it later.”

Joel nodded, there were no other options. “Ellie,” he called out, “We gotta get in there. We can’t fit through.”

“There’s some stuff against the door,” she replied.

“Well, can you move it?” Joel asked.

Y/n and Joel hurried around the back of the laundromat and to the side entrance to the building Ellie was hidden in. They leaned their collective weight against the door, the screech of a desk sliding on the other side. They burst through together, slamming the door shut after.

“Let’s go,” Joel hurried to help Ellie, “Fast.”

The three of them slid the desk back against the door, barricading themselves for the time being. It left them with nothing other than the reality of what happened sinking in on them.

“I’m okay,” Ellie was quick to say, reaching for her pack, “I’m good. I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light still.”

“What now?” Ellie asked.

“We go up,” Joel answered, already on the move.

“To get a better look?”

“Hopefully we spot a clear route out,” Joel opened the door that would lead them outside, “Stay close.”

Ellie nodded, “Got it.”

The three of them moved through the back room of the building, daylight greeting them as they found their way outside. Joel led them along the alley, finding cover behind an old car. They could hear the attacker’s calls for Bryan and the subsequent ones of terror when they found his body.

Joel cut across the street, shining his light through the opposite building’s door. Deeming it safe, he gestured for Y/n and Ellie to meet him. They ran through it, closing the door quietly behind them.

“Stairs?” Y/n asked, pulling out her pistol while Joel manned the flashlight.

Joel led them through the dark, the three of them flying up the steps in order to try and seek some vantage point. When they couldn’t find one, they headed back to the first level.

They snaked through holes, doors and carefully across streets, always avoiding whatever noise was just a few blocks over.

Eventually, they landed in a bar with newspapers plastered against the windows. It was the quietest street they’d found yet and safe for the time being. Joel monitored the city through the small chunk of exposed glass as sounds grew closer, watching as trucks and tanks rolled down the street.

Y/n was seated at the table, the first aid kid open and her hand stretched out. There were at least a dozen small shards of glass stuck in her skin, blood slowly trickling around them. It was going to be a bitch getting them out.

“They’re not FEDRA,” Ellie recounted the discussion they’d just had, “They’re not Fireflies. Who are they?”

“People,” Joel answered as he continued to watch.

“Are we okay in here?”

“Yeah, for now, but we gotta keep-“ Y/n’s gasp interrupted her sentence as she poured rubbing alcohol across the back of her hand. “We gotta keep moving,” she strained.

Joel’s attention was drawn away by Y/n’s cry of pain, but he made sure to look back through the window one more time. “Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be comin’ through these places soon enough.”

“So we zig when they zag,” Y/n stated, sanitizing her pair of tweezers.

Joel got up and Ellie took his spot at the window, he moved towards the table.

“There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away,” Ellie reported.

“Yeah, saw it,” Joel replied.

“So that’s the one?” Ellie asked.

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck,” Joel said, “We move. Fast as we can.”

Joel came to sit across from Y/n, watching as she carefully began to pull pieces of glass from her skin. She was trying her best to hold back tears, her lip trembling as she bit down on it. His fingers practically twitched to help her, telling himself to hold back as much as he could.

Y/n’s hand began to shake as she reached for another shard, whimpering when she accidentally nudged it deeper into the cut.

“Here,” Joel offered, though it was more an order. He held out a hand for the tweezers.

“I’ve got it,” Y/n mumbled wetly, speaking past the lump in her throat.

“I know you do,” Joel replied softly, the softest tone he’d taken with her in twenty years. He looped his fingers through the vice-like grip she had on her tool, gently pulling it down to the table. “Here.”

Y/n was in too much pain to fight, and she knew Joel would get it done quick. She allowed him to take her injured hand into his, the sensation of his touch against her palm sending a jolt through them both.

Joel worked with precision, carefully pulling each shard out of each cut. Y/n would let out a small whine every once in a while, but he didn’t stop to look at her. The faster he moved, the faster her pain would end.

Y/n tried to focus on anything, anything other than the pain. That thing ended up being Joel’s hands. The rough callouses against her wrist, the occasional brush of his knuckle as he worked, the length of his fingers in comparison to hers. In the heat of misery, she couldn’t see what a dangerous place her mind was in. All she could see was Joel.

Once he was done, Joel collected the bloody shards in a piece of gauze and stuck them in the first aid kit. They couldn’t leave any trail. Y/n reached into the box and pulled out a bandage roll. Joel placed a large gauze pad over the back of her hand and unrolled the spool. He pulled Y/n’s hand closer to him across the table, lifting it up as he wrapped it in the material. He handled her with all the delicacy he could muster.

Y/n watched him wrap her hand, thinking of the last time he’d been this soft with her. For as rough around the edges as Joel had always been, there was a tenderness that had only ever been reserved for her and Sarah. To feel it again was to travel twenty years into the past, to feel their fingers intertwine as they laid in bed or walked down the street…

She almost forgot about her anger, just for a moment.

Joel secured the bandage and gently set her hand back on the table. They peered up at one another, the cautious look in their eyes saying more than their lips ever could.

“Thank you,” Y/n muttered.

Joel simply nodded, retracting his hands back into his sides. Reintroducing the feel of Y/n’s skin was dangerous, muscle memory was sure to seek out and seek more and more of it. He balled up his fists and set them in his lap.

Settled, Y/n glanced over at Ellie, who was seated against the wall with her knees to her chest. With a minute of calm on their side, they were all trying to deal with what had happened after the crash.

“Are you guys okay?” Ellie asked.

Y/n held up her bandaged hand, one side of her mouth twitching upwards.

“I’m all right,” Joel answered, looking anywhere but at Ellie as he struggled, “Are you…all right?”

“Yeah,” Ellie mumbled quickly.

Joel fiddled with his hand, there was a duality to him he didn’t know how to properly function out of. Twenty years of burying your feelings could leave you severely impaired by the time you needed to access them again.

“Thing is, I didn’t hear that guy comin’,” he sighed.

“Neither of us did,” Y/n looked up, her and Joel’s eyes meeting again in mutual guilt.

Joel turned back to Ellie, “You shouldn’t have had to…you know.”

“Well, you’re glad I did, right?” Ellie asked, needing reassurance that she’d done the right thing.

Good and bad were so muddled, post-pandemic. Y/n was glad she’d kept her life, but it came at the expense of another piece of Ellie’s innocence. What was she supposed to say?

“Thing is, you’re just a kid,” Joel said for the both of them, “You shouldn’t know what it means to…” he diverted his eyes, desperately searching for the magic words to make her feel any better, “It’s not like you killed him. But shootin’ or…” he sighed, “I know what it’s like, first time that you, uh, hurt someone like that.”

Y/n stayed quiet, unable to watch Joel’s painful attempt. She knew the moment he was referring to, and it hadn’t been the dick in the bar all those years ago.

“If you, uh,” Joel tried, stuttering on consonants after, “I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah,” Ellie numbly agreed, “You really aren’t.”

“I mean it was my fault,” Joel rushed out, glancing over to Y/n, “Our fault. You shouldn’t have had to,” he made sure to look in Ellie’s eyes, “And I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Y/n added, her throat nearly clogging up.

Ellie soaked in their words, hurriedly wiping away at the tears welling in her eyes. It only made Joel and Y/n feel worse about their mistake.

“It wasn’t my first time,” Ellie spoke up, not looking in either of their directions.

While they were both emotionally guarded, Y/n was the more available between her and Joel. Her heart still beat for those in need. She got up from the table and came to Ellie, sliding down the wall until she was sitting next to her. She didn’t reach out, she just wanted Ellie to know that she wasn’t alone.

Joel’s way of showing he cared bled through in the way he protected. If he could ensure his people were safe, he could breathe easier.

He got down on his knees in front of Ellie, unloading her pistol from his pocket and handing it back to her.

“Show me your grip,” he said, “Finger off the trigger.”

Ellie held up the gun, barely concealing her joy at finally getting to learn.

“Now who taught you that?” Joel asked.

“FEDRA school,” she answered.

“Figures,” he muttered, Y/n scoffed alongside him. He maneuvered Ellie’s fingers, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand squeezes down on the right.”

Y/n reached out with her good hand, tucking one of Ellie’s stray fingers in. “Pinkies in,” she smirked, “There’s no princesses here.”

“There you go,” Joel sat back, “Look it.”

He tugged on the gun, trying to pull the gun from Ellie’s grip, but it held. She giggled as he yanked her forward.

“Okay?” Joel said sternly.

Ellie nodded, a smile still painted across her face.

Joel loaded the cartridge back into the weapon and safely handed it back to Ellie, who went to stuff it in her pocket.

“Uh-uh,” Joel shook his head, “You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Y/n turned her head away and snickered, still not wanting to give Joel the satisfaction of getting a laugh out of her. Joel got to his feet and extended a hand out to her. Y/n begrudgingly took it and let him pull her up.

Noting that outside had gone quiet, Joel nodded towards the door. Him and Y/n headed over and began ripping off the rotten wood boards nailed over the entrance. They had one clean shot at the high rise, they couldn’t make any missteps.

They paused when Ellie approached, both of them wanting her to trust that they’d get her to safety.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Y/n said, trying to make herself believe it too.

“I know,” Ellie muttered, the levity of the past moment having disappeared.

Joel and Y/n’s gazes met, neither one sure of what there was to say. They were developing their language through their silence, the nail biting seconds between safety and risking their lives. It was a level they had never connected on, because there had never been a need.

“Let’s go,” Y/n said softly.

Inhaling, Joel opened the door and they filed out into the empty street, bolting for the building they hoped would shelter them…

—————————

The journey to the high rise didn’t go as easy as they’d hoped, having to dip and duck into abandoned shops and restaurants. With the dark having blanketed them on the way, their arrival felt like an even bigger win when they got there.

There was the small task of getting in to the building.

Joel, Ellie and Y/n stared up at the vent that would grant them access to unlock the door.

“Alright, short stack,” Y/n announced to Ellie, “You’re up.”

Ellie, eager to be a part in any way she could, stepped forward. Joel nabbed a loose piece of wood resting against the wall and handed it to her.

“We’ll brace you,” Joel said, “Be careful going through, could be a long drop.”

“Got it,” Ellie nodded.

Joel bent down, locking his hands together. “You’re just gonna put your foot there,” he instructed.

“Okay,” Ellie breathed. Y/n was standing by, waiting to be needed.

“One, two,” Joel counted before lifting Ellie up.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” the girl said, panicked. Y/n jumped in and steadied her hips.

“Straighten up,” Joel directed, “I got you.”

Ellie stiffened her body, getting traction in the safety of Y/n and Joel’s arms, and rammed the wood into the vent. It clattered to the building’s floor. Joel and Y/n helped thread her through the hole, dusting off their hands after.

“Okay, I’m in,” Ellie called.

“Take a look around first,” Joel told her, the sound of her sneakers hitting the floor defiantly, “Ellie!”

“Come on,” Y/n grumbled, following the clattering noises Ellie made straight to the door. It swung open.

“Where would you be without me, huh?” Ellie asked proudly.

“By now, Wyoming,” Joel replied as he and Y/n walked through.

“Oh, yeah,” Ellie admitted, “Walked into that one.”

They carefully made their way through the mess-ridden building, it looked like it had once been a loading dock. A stray car, multiple signs on the walls with instructions and packing materials scattered across the floor.

“All right, we’ll make our way up,” Joel laid out the plan, “And come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.”

Y/n walked ahead and pushed open the door that led to the stairs, Joel shining his light behind her.

“We’re going up 42 flights?” Ellie asked.

“45,” Joel answered, flicking the light upward to reveal the dauntingly tall structure, “But no, not all the way.”

“How far then?” Y/n asked.

Joel heavily sighed, “As far as I can make it.”

Ellie laughed while Y/n rolled her eyes, their fate was to be determined by Joel’s knees.

The cockiness should have been saved for later, or ignored entirely.

After the tenth flight, Y/n was huffing and puffing along with Joel. Years of fighting and manual labor hadn’t been kind to either of them, but the day’s exhausting circumstances weren’t helping.

“Not so easy, is it?” Joel quipped, following Y/n’s panting, hunched over form.

“Fuck…” Y/n drew a deep breath as she turned another corner, “You…Miller.”

“Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt?” Ellie asked, changing the subject, “How did you guys know it was an ambush?”

Joel and Y/n paused on their respective steps, feeling weight drop on them for different reasons.

“I can’t speak for him,” Y/n answered, drawing a breath, “But when I made my way up to Boston, there were all sorts of people trying all sorts of things. Stories get through the QZ too. People saying that they lost loved ones to raiders…” Y/n shook her head, “It’s a fucking disgusting business.”

Joel almost grimaced, resting against the railing. How the hell was he supposed to answer now?

“I’ve been on both sides,” he admitted, “It was a long time ago, we did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” Ellie asked.

“And the people we were with,” Joel continued, not knowing which bit of what he was about to say would affect Y/n more, “My brother, too.”

Y/n was braced against the railing, gripping the bar so tight she knew her knuckles were white. Joel was different now, a completely transformed man from the one she’d known. She had watched him kill, torture and separate entirely from his heart. But much like when he beat up the FEDRA guard back in the QZ, there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe the man she’d loved was fully gone.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe no one could stay pure in a world of bloodshed.

“Did you kill innocent people?”

Ellie’s question gave Y/n the burst of energy she needed to get up the next flight of stairs and she fled the conversation

The thing about knowing someone better than you know yourself is that the connection is forever. No matter how many changes either person goes through, no matter how much life beats them down and time rusts them…there are inherent pieces of their personality that remain the same. In each footstep that carried Y/n up the stairs, Joel felt the shame of his past choices ache a little more inside his soul. Somewhere, six layers underneath her bitterness, lay the heart of a woman who wouldn’t naturally hurt a fly. And here he was, having undergone a hideous transformation that could have given fairytales a run for their money.

If Y/n was a gentle sweep of rain, Joel was a hurricane, bringing death and destruction wherever he went.

“C’mon,” he said to Ellie, the only answer he could manage.

They climbed a little longer before Joel called out to Y/n, one flight above them. “Stop.”

Y/n paused, reluctantly descending to meet them where they were. Joel opened the door to their designated floor, out of breath and willpower.

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed, short on oxygen, but better than Y/n or Joel.

Joel backed up against the wall, sliding down to the floor in exhaustion. “Yeah.”

“Thirty three floors,” Ellie continued cheerily, “That’s good.”

Y/n was bent over, bracing herself against her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

“It’s gonna have to be,” Joel panted.

Ellie extended a hand to him, “Come on.”

“Gimme a minute,” he complained, he wasn’t even sure he could move.

Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she knew what would motivate Joel. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

Y/n snorted, earning a glare from Joel. She didn’t shy away from staring back at him.

Joel reached up and took Ellie’s outstretched palm, “Lazy ass,” he grumbled, walking past both girls, “Fifty six years old, you little shit.”

Ellie laughed, Y/n patting her on the back as she walked past.

Joel grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and rammed it into the glass door of one of the apartments. He let Y/n and Ellie in first before entering himself.

“Oh, sweet,” Ellie exclaimed, dropping her backpack in the middle of the room, “There’s a couch.”

“Hallelujah,” Y/n replied, setting her bag down as well, while Ellie began rounding up the cushions.

Joel pulled out a drawer form one of the cabinets, carefully collecting the glass shards he’d created and shaking them across the floor. Y/n acknowledged it was a good idea, a makeshift alarm system, while she helped Ellie build their beds.

“Joel,” Ellie called, confused as to what she was watching. He didn’t reply. “Joel…”

Y/n spoke up, “Joel.”

He turned quickly, “What?”

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleepin’,” he explained.

“Oh,” Ellie elongated, “I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?”

“Of course I’ll hear it,” Joel replied, impatiently, “That’s the damn point.”

“Okay,” Ellie said, laying down on her couch cushion bed.

The dilemma Y/n faced was simple: two beds, three people. The easiest thing was to share with Ellie, which she was on her way to do when Ellie starfished, blocking any extra room she had.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, nudging the bottom cushion with her boot, “I’m exhausted.”

“There’s a perfectly good bed over there,” she nodded towards Joel’s section of the floor.

The ex-lover’s eyes met, panic in their gazes.

“Absolutely not,” Y/n stated, turning back to Ellie.

“Why?” Ellie replied, faux innocence in her tone and a smirk on her face, “Shouldn’t be a problem if you two are getting along.”

Every part of Y/n’s body wanted to jump through the apartment’s window and take her chances leaping to her death. Anything was preferable to sharing a bed with Joel again.

Joel felt the same way, he didn’t need to feel any more confused around Y/n than he already was. Laying beside her again would just be another punishment from some higher power.

“I’ll take the floor,” Joel reluctantly offered.

“What, so we have to listen to you complain about your back all day?” Y/n replied, “No, I’ll take the floor.”

“You’re gonna be fuckin’ miserable if you do,” Joel brought up, “And you’ll slow us down.”

Y/n paused, taking a deep breath, trying to get over herself enough to realize Joel was right. They both needed rest.

“Fine,” she conceded, “Back to back.”

Joel nodded, the two of them kneeling down beside the cushions and balling up their jackets.

It was an awkawrd dance, trying to maneuver themselves onto the narrow bed without touching too much. Y/n had to wiggle around, clinging to the edge of the cushion so she wouldn’t fall off. Inevitably, the entirety of their bodies ended up pressed together like magazine pages. Twenty years ago, it was the moment where one of them would flip over and wrap their arms around the other as they drifted off to sleep. Now, they lay stiff as boards, trying not to set off any memories or sensations.

“Well, goodnight,” Ellie said, comfortably curled up in a ball.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Joel grunted.

“Goodnight,” Y/n was facing Ellie and her smirk, “You little shit.”

Joel shut his eyes, trying to force himself to fall asleep quickly. But there was an unfinished part of his day that he couldn’t let go of.

“Ellie,” he called.

“Yeah?”

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people,” he recalled, “What did you mean it wasn’t your first time?”

Ellie stiffened, rolling over onto her back, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Y/n watched the girl’s countenance change, for as much as they’d gotten to know each other the last few weeks, they didn’t actually know anything. There was blood on both their hands and Ellie wanted the dark of night to hide hers. Y/n couldn’t blame her.

“All right,” Joel conceded, only for a second, before rolling over on his other side. Y/n could feel him shift and knew he was trying to face Ellie. She flipped onto her back so he could see across the room.

“You don’t have to,” Joel continued, trying to keep his body as compact as possible, “Just sayin’…it isn’t fair, your age…havin’ to deal with all this.”

Y/n tried to steady her inhale, Joel’s warm breath fanned over her face, setting her nerve endings alight. The window idea was looking better and better…

Ellie turned her head to face the adults, “So it gets easier when you get older?”

“It never gets easier,” Y/n spoke up, attempting to release some of the pressure inside her from her own sins, “It just…you shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff yet.”

Joel’s eyes traveled over Y/n’s face, seeing all the pieces of her he couldn’t recognize. There were two decades of her life he had been absent for. Just as he carried stories and scars earned over time, she did too. It still hurt to see her hurt.

“The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not,” Ellie flipped over to face Joel and Y/n, “Is ‘cause I’ve noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it cause you were shot there?”

Y/n twisted her head to get a look at Joel’s ear. She’s gathered enough information to make an educated guess, but years of fighting had taught her that it took more than one bullet to take out someone’s hearing.

Joel glanced down at Y/n, their breaths mingling in the small space left between them. It would have been so easy to lean down, or even just touch her cheek. Such intimacies belonged in their past life, but Joel could feel his resolve slipping with each second he spent in bed with her.

Y/n felt the draw too. She felt weak for admitting that through her anger, she was still as drawn to Joel as she had been the night they’d met. He may have changed in every way conceivable, but with the small taste she was getting of his body, she knew his firm frame was the same as she remembered. Something about that tortured Y/n more than if he’d completely transformed.

They were wading in dangerous waters.

“Probably more from shootin’,” Joel answered, swallowing hard and turning back over on his side, “So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.”

The action of moving brought Y/n out of whatever trance she’d been in. She felt fucking weak, feeling any sort of attraction to the man who’d broken her heart. Rolling back onto her side, she shut her eyes and tried to calm her body down.

“Joel,” Ellie said softly, “Y/n.”

They answered at the same time, “Hm?”

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

Y/n carefully moved the sleeve of her jacket to block her twitching mouth.

Joel barely turned over, “What?”

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, “It runs in your jeans.”

He twisted to get a look at Ellie, who was smirking at them both, and fell back onto his side.

Y/n was desperately trying to contain her giggling, practically holding her breath.

Facing away from them, Joel smirked and muttered something to himself. A whisper of a chortle escaped him. “That is so damn stupid,” he admonished.

“You laughed, motherfucker,” Ellie giggled.

“I didn’t laugh,” Joel shot back.

“Yes, you did,” Ellie replied.

“I’m losin’ it.”

“You’re losin’ it big time,” Ellie grinned.

Y/n snorted, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I knew it would work again,” Ellie exclaimed, lording the two-time award winning joke over Y/n’s head. It was the only one in the book that got her to crack.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” Y/n laughed, digging her entire face into her jacket.

All it took was hearing the sweet melody again, and Joel was pushed over the edge. He had been on pins and needles since meeting her again, naturally waiting to hear Y/n laugh again. In their life, circumstances didn’t occur often that gave you the opportunity to find humor. He’d accepted he may never hear it again. And now, with her back shaking against his, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

As soon as Joel’s shakes being to reverberate off her body, Y/n felt a wave of grief and relief come over her. To hear his giggles, a sound only she’d ever been privy to, felt like coming home after a long day. She wanted to fight it, to rage against all pleasant memories of him, but she wanted a moment of peace more. She wanted to laugh.

Ellie was the loudest of them all, reigning victorious over Joel and Y/n’s stubbornness. It was so needed after the day they’d had.

“Go to sleep,” Joel said, his chuckle contradicting his order.

“You go to sleep,” Ellie laughed, rolling on her bed.

“Both of you go to sleep,” Y/n snorted, her voice lighting up the darkest parts of Joel.

There were two more rounds of giggling, one started by Ellie and one by Y/n. Joel couldn’t stop from joining both. It was the first moment of joy, true joy, that he’d felt in twenty years.

——————

At some point in their sleep, Y/n and Joel inevitably turned over. Y/n had been keeping her hands close to her chest, cradling the injured one. And somewhere in the timeline of the evening, Joel had unconsciously reached over and placed one of his hands over them both. How he blindly found it, how he knew she was trying to protect it, those answers belonged to the blanket of night. But Joel’s fingers wrapped around her bloody fist, protecting her even in his sleep.

He had also rolled over on his good ear.

“Y/n…Y/n.”

Y/n jumped at the call of her name, looking down at her and Joel’s intertwined hands and pulling back. She twisted onto her back, jumping back at the sight of the child standing over her, pointing a gun at them. Her peripheral vision caught Ellie with her hands up in surrender and a man with his own weapon aimed at her.

“Joel,” Y/n raised her hands, kicking her ex in the shin, “Joel!”

He startled awake.

——————

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us spoilers #twenty years later

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littlespacereader · 29 days

Text

I haven’t regressed for a while because you know, life sometimes gets in the way. But I finally got a moment after class to have the rest of the evening off and just regress. At first I was worried I wouldn’t be able to regress after a stressful day at college. Then I literally was two second into a Blue’s Clues episode with Steve and suddenly I’m a baby😂 Steve just had the magic touch🥹💞

I felt inspired to write a cute fic with him and a little reader. I’m actually thinking of making a mini series of fics with a little reader in a kids show. What do you think? Would you guys like something like that? Let me know😄

So please enjoy another “side quest fic” I didn’t plan on writing😂💞

Looking for Blue’s Clues🐾

Caregiver!Steve Burns & GN Little!Reader

Tags - scavenger hunt, Steve is the most gentle and patient CG ever, hand holding, hugs

I held my head up high as I walked through the woods, stuffie in hand, backpack on my shoulders, wandering around on my own little adventure. I needed this, just some time away from the busy and hectic working world. I just needed some time outdoors to regress in peace.

And that’s what I did. All my supplies shoved into my backpack, my favorite stuffie in hand, I am ready to go! I started on a trail, following the winding trail through the thick woods. I’ve been on this trail before, it’s calm, quiet and peaceful. Perfect for a regression day.

As I kept walking I noticed something with my usual trail. The trail split into two pathways. One, the usual path, went right and down towards a river. But now there’s a left path, a path that’s never existed before. Maybe the parks department decided to make a new path for everyone?

There was something deep down inside of me that filled with excitement for the new adventure. I looked to my stuffie in hand, “What do you think (stuffie name)?”

Though they didn’t outright say it, I knew my stuffie wanted me to go forward towards the adventure.

“You’re so right! New trail it is!”

The path wasn’t very different than the other trail, though it did go deeper into the woods. But there was a clearing up ahead, I could see there was a colorful neighborhood with a yellow house.

A blue dog ran infront of me, stopping me in my tracks. She began talking to me before she skipped away. I smiled to myself, a blue dog?! That’s a first!

Suddenly out of the corner of my eyes I spotted something. On one of the tall trees next to me is a blue paw print. I walked over and looked at the print and smiled. Why would there be a blue paw print here? Did that dog leave it behind?

“A clue!”

I quickly turned around to be greeted by a man in a stripped green shirt. He smiled, happy to see me as if he knew me his whole life.

“You found a clue!”

“A clue?” I pointed to the blue print.

“A blue’s clue! Great job! You’re very smart.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the praise. “Thank you, but I wasn’t even trying.”

“You weren’t trying to find blue’s clue and you found it anyway? You’re better at this than me! Wow!” Again, the stranger glowed with praise.

“I’m Steve, it’s so nice to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.” I gladly shook his hand.

“Now that we have our first clue, we gotta put it in our handy dandy notebook!” Steve pulled out his notebook from his back pocket, popping the crayon out from the top and flipping to the first page.

He stood along side me so I could see what he was drawing. “So our first clue is a tree. We’ll start with two big lines for the trunk of the tree, then we’ll draw smaller lines on the top for the branches, then we’ll make this curly lines for the leafs at the top of the tree. There, a tree.” He looked up from his drawing to smile back at me.

“Our first clue is a tree. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree?” He asked me.

I began thinking of all the possibilities a tree could mean. What does his dog want to do tonight? “Maybe she wants to play fetch with one of the branches of the tree?”

Steve hummed in agreement, “Good idea, maybe she does watch to play fetch. But we have to find the other clues to be sure.”

I nod my head in agreement but I can’t help but ask. “How many clues are there?”

“There are three clues. Once we find all three clues we sit in our thinking chair and think, think, think. Because when we use our minds, we take a step out of time and we can do anything that we want to do.” His smile is utterly contagious because I smile just as big as him.

“I’m really going to need your help to find the other two clues. Will you help me find them?”

“Yeah!” I practically jump saying.

“Really? Thank you! You’re the best! Now, this second clue must be around here somewhere…Lets go this way.” He hold his hand out to me as a silent offer.

I appreciate him not being pushy or just grabbing my hand. It was an invitation if I wanted it, so I took his hand in mine. Together we walked to the yellow house I saw earlier.

Steve opened the door and lead the way into his house. It’s beautiful with its peach tone wallpaper and big red chair in the living room.

“That’s the thinking chair,” Steve pointed out, “Once we’ve got all three clues we’ll sit there and think.”

Then it was off to the kitchen to further find a clue. Inside on the counter top is a family different spices.

“Y/N,” he squeezed my hand, “I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper and their children Cinnamon and Paprika.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes as the Salt and Pepper shaker waved and talked to me.

“Bonjour Y/N! Welcome to our home!” Mr. Salt waved.

“So wonderful to have you here.” Mrs. Pepper added.

“So nice to meet you both.” I smiled back.

But then my eyes caught it, across the kitchen on another counter top sat a bag of marshmallows. And on the bag? A big blue paw print!

“Steve! A clue! A clue!!” I squeezed his hand back and was jumping out and down.

“The flu? You don’t look sick to me. Here let me check.” He held his hand to my forehead. “No, you don’t have a temperature.”

I couldn’t help but giggle to Steve. “No! A clue! Over there!” I pointed to the paw print.

Steve gasped and quickly the two of us ran over to the bag of marshmallows. “So our second clue is…marshmallows. You know what we gotta do. We gotta put this clue in our handy dandy…”

“Notebook!”

“That’s right! Our notebook! Now, a marshmallow. We’ll make two round lines on the side and an oval on the top. At the bottom we’ll make half a circle to connect the sides. There! A marshmallow! But what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner with…a tree and a marshmallow?”

The two of us stopped and started to think about the clues. There were pretty different from one another. It would be hard to tell what they meant together.

“Maybe she wants to play fetch then eat some marshmallows?” I suggested.

Steve gasped and nodded his head, “Maybe! But I think we should find our last clue before we decide.” I nodded in agreement.

Mail time, mail time mmmmaaaaaiiilllll ttttiiimmmmeeee

“Oh! The mail is here!” Steve grabbed my hand and together we ran into the living room. Blue and him started dancing around happy for the mails arrival. After a minute I started to join in the fun.

“Here’s the mail, it never fails. It makes me want to wag my tail. When it comes I want to wail, MMMMMAAAAAIIIIILLLLL!!!”

Steve plopped down into his thinking chair and held his hand out for me to sit as well. “You’re more than welcome to sit on my lap or on the arm of the chair. Whichever is more comfortable for you Y/N.”

After a moment of consideration, I chose to sit on the arm of the chair next to Steve. The mailbox stretched into the room and over to our chair. “Mails here! Mails here!”

“Mailbox! I’d like you to meet my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Mailbox.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled to the purple mailbox.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Infact this letter is for you.”

“It’s for me?”

“Yup! Here you go!” Mailbox opens his lid and Steve grabbed the letter for me.

“We just got a letter, we just got a letter, we just got a letter, wonder who it’s from.” He went to open the letter but paused and looked to me. “Y/N this is your mail. Would you rather open it or would you like me to?”

“Could you open and read it?” I asked a bit shy. But Steve brought me back to feeling comfortable with his warm smile and nod.

“Of course I can. Now let’s see, oh! It appears that this letter is from a (stuffie name here).”

I gasped and looked down at my stuffie. “It’s from (stuffie name here)?!”

“Uh-huh. That what it says. The letter goes,

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for always taking such great care of me. Thank you for always coming to me whenever you need extra love and comfort. Always know I will forever be with you even when you have to go to school or work. There’s always a piece of me inside of you just as there a piece of you inside of me.

Love you always,

(Stuffie name).”

Tears started to fall down from my eyes as I looked at my stuffie in hand. They looked back up at me with a smile and a wink.

“What a beautiful letter! Your stuffie is very grateful for you Y/N, just as I’m sure you are for them. Oh, I don’t think we were introduced. It’s nice to meet you (stuffie name).” Steve leaned over and shook the stuffie’s (hand, paw, fin, ect.)

“They said it’s nice to meet you too.” I add back to Steve, wiping the happy tears from my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

I hum in agreement. “My stuffie was just so nice.”

“They seem great! You’re perfectly matched because you’re great and they’re great too.” Steve smiled. “Now, would you like to take a moment here or would you like to go find the last clue?”

“The last clue!!”

“Alright!” He stood up and offered his hand again. I jumped off the chair and took his hand in mine again. “Off we go looking for clues…but ummm…where do you think we should go?”

I looked outside and saw the sunsetting. It might be nice to get some fresh air again. “Maybe outside?” I offered.

“Great idea! Follow me.” Steve led the way as we ventured back outside.

Outside we started to walk around the town. Steve showed me the eye doctor where Blue’s friend Magenta got her new glasses, then there was the present shop where his brother Joe works and another house down the block where his cousin Josh lives. The town seemed so nice and peaceful.

Since we didn’t see anymore of Blue’s clues we ventured back to Steve’s house and into the back yard. There it seemed all of his friends were handing out around a picnic blanket, tree and a fire pit. WAIT A MINUTE! THE FIRE PIT!

“Steve!! A clue!! Another clue!!” I pointed out again.

“Really?! Where?”

“There by the fire pit! The final clue!”

Steve gasped and looked at the fire pit. There, at the base of it was the clue.

“A clue!! Our final clue! And it’s on the fire pit. You know where we need to put this, in our handy dandy…”

“NOTEBOOK!”

Steve grabbed his notebook from his back pocket and began drawing. “So our last clue is…a fire pit. We’ll start by making a cylinder for the fire pit. Then spark points for the fire inside of it. There, a fire pit!”

He closed the notebook then looked at me just as excited. “We have all three clues! We have to sit in our-.”

“Think chair!!”

“Yes! Come on!”

The two of us raced back inside the house and over to the thinking chair. Steve sat in his usual spot and I opted for the arm of the chair again. Blue ran over and joined us, to see if we got it right.

“So now that we’re in our thinking chair, let’s think. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner? What’s our first clue?”

“A tree.”

“That’s right! A branch! Good job remembering. So our first clue is a branch. But what was our second?”

“Marshmallows!”

“You’re right it’s marshmallows! You have an amazing memory.” He smiled.

“Finally our last clue is a fire pit. So what could Blue want to do tonight after dinner, with a tree, marshmallows and a fire pit?”

The two of sat in the chair together and think, think, think. They did seem random at first but they meant to go together. Then suddenly it hit me!

“Steve! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!!”

“What is it Y/N?”

“Blue wants to use the wood from the tree to make a fire so that she can roast marshmallows!”

Steve’s face lights up to the idea. He looks to Blue who start jumping around the room happily. “You did it Y/N! You figure out Blue’s Clues!”

Steve jumps up and put his arms open to me. I immediately run into them, getting a big hug from him. “You are so smart! I am so proud of you!”

Tears build up in my eyes hearing the admission. He’s treated me so sweet for hardly knowing me. I haven’t felt this safe and happy in such a long time.

“Come on, let’s go outside and get ourselves a marshmallow.” Steve says as we break apart.

The two of us join the rest of the neighborhood outside to roast some marshmallows. There I meet Joe and Josh as well as the rest of the family including Magenta, Sidetable, and more.

I sat next to Steve as the evening turned to night. We looked up at the stars above as we ate our marshmallows.

“You know, you could stay if you wanted?” Steve said after a moment. I looked at him shocked at first. “It’s just that, you did such a good job finding all the clues. And Blue and I loved having you here. Plus, I could look after you and show you the rest of the town and-.”

He stopped himself. “Sorry, what I’m trying to say is. If you like to stay you’re more than welcome to. I’d love to have you here. And before you say anything, I don’t mind your regression. I’d love to help take care of you and maybe even possible be your Caregiver. So what do you think?”

I immediately began to tear up again. “I’d love to stay and I’d love to have you as my Caregiver.”

Steve’s nervousness turned immediately to happiness as he put his arms out again. I didn’t waste any time as I joined him in a hug.

“I’m so happy to hear that Y/N. I think you’re going to be the best person for this town. I couldn’t be more happy to have you here Y/N.” Steve added as we broke apart.

“I couldn’t be more happy to be here.” I smiled back.

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carissime · 7 months

Text

Nanami x fem!reader

cw: blowjobs, deep throating, degradation, dry humping/grinding on a shoe (bc I’m a whore and I’d do anything for this man), mentions of getting caught

a/n: I just woke up and was compelled to write this. Watched Thursday’s episode and haven’t stopped thinking about the things I would let this man do to me. Nanami please just give me one (1) chance.

Okay but what about Nanami who’s sitting at his desk trying to finish up some paperwork. Nanami who can’t stand the needy looks you’re giving him, who has already told you to behave yourself because he needs to finish this report tonight and he doesn’t want to stay here a second longer than he has to.

Nanami who finally gives in, pushing his chair back from his desk slightly, and without him even saying anything you can tell by his gaze that he’s giving you permission.

You bolt up from the couch, rounding his desk so quickly it’s a shock you don’t slam your hip into the corner of it.

(It’s not a shock, Nanami covers the sharp edge with his hand, ever the gentleman despite what he’s about to let you do.)

You’re about to drop down to your knees but Nanami wraps his fingers around your throat, and the wide desperate eyes you’re giving him make him want to forget about this report and bend you over his desk so he can fuck you on top of the goddamn papers that have been keeping him here so long. “Behave,” is all he tells you, and the rough sound of his voice shoots warmth straight to your core as you nod eagerly.

He lets go of you and leans back, watching with half-lidded eyes as your fingers make quick work of his belt and slacks, easing the fabric down just enough to release his cock. Both of you inhale sharply, and he clenches his jaw as you wrap your hand around the base and lean forward to take the tip into your mouth, a quiet hum leaving you as you finally get to taste him, get to feel the weight of him on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he drawls, and then moves his chair forward again, forcing you underneath the desk. “Now stay just like that until I’m done.”

And for a while, Nanami thinks you will, thinks you’ve finally decided to listen to him for once and just keep his cock warm in your mouth with no antics. But then he feels you shift around, feels you kneel on either side of one of his legs—and then stop. Surely you’re just getting comfortable. You press your cheek against his thigh, and he can nearly see the way your eyes flutter shut in contentment.

He gets all of eighty-six more seconds of tranquility before you move again. And this time you don’t stop. This time you reach your hands up to clutch at the fabric of his slacks as you grind and grind yourself down onto his shoe, your neediness finally catching up to you. The whimpers you’re letting out are sending vibrations up his cock that make him grit his teeth and push back from his desk abruptly.

You give him these wide puppy-dog eyes that nearly make him fold, because after all he’s supposed to just keep working while his pretty little girlfriend is on her knees in front of him, skirt fluttering out to settle around your knees, looking like the picture of innocence when really you’re just begging to be fucked like a whore in his office?

“You know that’s not how good girls behave.” His voice is so thick and gravelly that it almost makes you not care, almost makes you climb up on his lap to ride him anyway.

But you don’t, because you are a good girl, but there’s only so far your patience can stretch and he’s been in here for hours working on this stupid fucking report and you would make a mental note to complain to Yaga about post-mission procedures if the look Nanami were giving you right now wasn’t just making your head fuzzy with pleasure.

“Kento, please—” you whine, and he holds a hand up.

“I will give you one more chance, otherwise you’re just going to have to wait until we get home. After I finish my report. After I debrief with Yaga.”

You immediately shake your head. That wasn’t part of the agreement! You want to protest, but you can see that his patience is worn thin, so you keep your mouth shut.

“You’re going to be good?”

And you nod, letting out a small “mhm” and scooting closer on your knees when he beckons you with a curl of his fingers.

Nanami gives you a pointed look and you slowly take him back inside your mouth, your body immediately relaxing again. But then Nanami’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you all the way down until your nose is against his pelvis, pushing past your gag reflex and holding you there even as you choke.

You blink back the tears that are welling up on your lash line, eyebrows scrunched together as you look up at him.

“Grind on me,” he grunts, and it takes all of his willpower not to fuck your throat as the look on your face morphs from confusion to relief and then back to confusion again. “C’mon, you’re so desperate to get yourself off, grind on me while you choke on my cock.”

His words make your eyes roll into the back of your head and you quickly straddle one of his legs again, grinding yourself down onto the top of his shoe and whining at the friction of it through your panties. Your movements quickly become more eager, having to compensate for the layer of fabric that’s blocking out the truly delicious feeling of his shoelaces against your bare cunt.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Nanami groans, his fingers tightening in your hair. “Such a fucking slut, huh? Want me to fuck you in my office where anyone could walk by and hear the filthy little sounds you make, I bet it turns you on so much knowing someone could’ve walked in earlier while you were under my desk sucking on my cock.”

You nod as much as you can with the grip Nanami has on you, looking up at him through lashes that are wet with tears.

“Lift your skirt up, let me see how wet your panties are.” You do ask you’re asked and Nanami groans at the sight of the wet spot darkening the fabric, his hips jerking up and causing him to gasp as your throat tightens around him. “Fucking soaked,” he hisses. “My filthy little whore. Cum for me—you said you were gonna be my good girl, yeah? Be good for me and cum.”

Nanami doesn’t even need to finish his demand before you’re squeezing your eyes shut, gripping your skirt that you’re still so dutifully holding up even tighter as your climax hits you, body shaking with the force of it all.

You fall limp against him, body slumping against his thigh when you come down. And then you go to take a deep breath, moving your head back just slightly until you’re stilled by Nanami’s grip.

“Where do you think you’re going? Stay still while I fuck your throat. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Literally haven’t stopped thinking about Nanami since Thursday’s ep. Being a Nanami girl has been so good to me. Reblogs & comments always appreciated 🫶🏼

#Nanami x reader #Nanami x reader smut #Nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #by the fire #nanami <3

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cambion-companion · 1 year

Note

hiiiii I really love your stories and side note it’s my birthday, first one on my own so I plan on just having a chill day with my dog indoors, halfway through rereading your master list already, could I make a request or suggestion for something kinda angsty, like someone’s jealous or something? Thank youuuu

I am writing a continuation of reader wife going to that brothel we see in episode 9 and fucking that bitch up having words with the landlady. ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Prepare for some Robin Hood type shit from reader

These two fics go serve a good backstory for this fic.

Yes I had fun creating this banner muahaha

The night was young.

The wind chill on your face as you snuck outdoors, careful to not rouse your sleeping husband.

Aemond must not know what you intended; he would never allow it.

You had taken a moment to observe his sleeping form, his beautifully carved face relaxed in slumber, a stray strand of silver hair falling across his high cheekbone. You swept it away with a delicate touch and he smiled in his sleep.

The image of him fresh in your mind, the man your heart and body belonged to, in such an intimate and tender moment only stirred your anger to greater heights. You seethed; it was passed time you had words with a certain Madam of the Street of Silk.

You had your short bow with you, in case sharp words turned to something worse. You had wrapped your hands and wrists in fabric, as your father had once taught you, so in the event of a brawl you would be prepared to throw punches.

You knew just where to go, it was a well-known brothel, serving only higher-end clientele. Padding down the street with booted feet you made your silent way, not quite knowing what you were going to say or do upon arrival. So focused were you on your goal you took no notice of the shadowy figure following you down the steps of the Red Keep.

The women loitering outside the establishment, trying lure passing men inside, watched you approach with interest.

"'Tis not often we get ladies in here." One spoke, you valiantly tried to keep your eyes on her face.

"I'm here to speak to your Madam." Your voice was terse even to your own ears.

The courtesan frowned, her red lips pouting. "Mistress Trolunda is inside, though she's not entertaining guests personally tonight."

"No weapons allowed." The girl closest to the door held up a hand as you made to enter, her eyes were on the bow and quiver on your back.

"Bullshit." They gasped at your rude language, but your patience had taken leave this evening. "I'm sure you don't enforce that rule on your male customers."

You pushed your way passed, not a difficult feat and the women didn't put up much of a fight to stop you. Their glowering glares burned into your back as you walked through the doorway into a wide room lit with rosy fireglow.

The men inside did indeed carry weapons, those who were dressed anyway. It wasn't terribly busy inside the main room; several intertwined couples took up spaces by the several lit torches. You didn't look too hard at them, their states of undress and groping hands making your cheeks flush despite yourself.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" An older woman approached you from behind a clerical looking counter. She had light auburn hair and light eyes that looked you up and down calculatingly.

"Mistress Trolunda I take it?" You tilted your head, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.

She gave your garb an appraising glance, a flicker of recognition crossing her froglike features. "I am she. If you're hear for business and pleasure you've come to the right place."

"Just business." You stepped forward, pressing into her space, pleased to note you were taller than her squat form. "To make sure no other children are victim to your debauchery."

"I beg your pardon?" Trolunda's voice had taken on an icy undertone, her eyes narrowing at you. "Who are you to dictate what goes on in my establishment."

"Someone who will make your life a living hell." You closed the remaining distance with a menacing step. "Or end it altogether."

She opened her mouth, her gaze searching behind you for help.

"Call for assistance and this knife will find your heart." You threatened.

Trolunda looked down and saw the knife you had withdrawn, poised at her ribcage. Her expression was wary as she met your eyes again. "What do you want?" Despite her effort to keep her reactions hidden you could hear the tremor of fear in her words.

"Children are to be left alone, not to be touched. Any girls you have working for you under the age of seventeen you will either find new work for or different jobs."

She snorted derisively, gasping a little as you prodded her with the sharp end of your dagger. "Alright, calm down." She raised her hands in submission. "I will do as you ask."

"Should patrons come wishing to see any workers under seventeen, you are to refuse them and report them to the King's Guard."

Her eyes widened. "The King's Guard? You cannot be serious. I would lose significant income."

"Did I stutter."

"No, no you did not." The Madam looked keenly at your face, before making a curtsying gesture, right before she hefted a heavy porcelain plate from the counter and smashed it against the side of your head.

White pain filled your vision as you stumbled to the side, falling to the ground, momentarily stunned. You felt a booted foot connect with your jaw, sending you reeling against the wooden floor.

Shouts and screams sent bolts of pain through your throbbing head, you squinted through bleary eyes, seeing the Madam approaching you with a curved dagger drawn and ready to slice at your vulnerable form.

You swept your leg out, knocking against her shins enough to cause her to stagger. The working women and half-naked men fled the scene as you lurched to your feet, bracing your weight against one of the oaken walls. You held your own dagger out in front of you like Aemond had taught.

Trolunda swiped at you once, clearly inexperienced with wielding weapons of any sort. You lashed out with your foot, catching her in the sternum and sending her falling back onto her tailbone. She shrieked a curse at you, her cry cutting through your aching temples like hot iron.

"Cease this at once!"

You were about to lunge at the woman, but Aemond's commanding voice stilled the very breath in your chest.

There he stood, framed in the doorway, those who had fled could be seen cowering in corners behind him. The hood of his cloak was thrown back, his long hair shining silver in the torchlight, he had not donned his eyepatch, the sapphire gemstone glittered menacingly as his lilac eye surveyed the scene before him with displeasure. His sword was drawn, though it was currently pointed at the ground.

The Madam righted herself, brushing down her rumpled skirts as her eyes flicked from Aemond to you and back again. A knowing smile itched up her unpleasant face. "Ah. I see now." Both you and Aemond glared at her as she smoothed back her mussed hair. "You are his." Her predatory gaze fell upon you once more. "I do hope what he learned in my care all those years ago has served you well."

With a cry of incandescent fury you fell upon the woman, pummeling each inch of her your fists could find. She collapsed beneath you, shielding her face and screaming inane curses as you continued beating her about the head.

Strong hands closed around your waist and hauled you off the woman, yet you still kicked out at her with your feet, making satisfying contact several more times as Aemond dragged you away.

"You've married a little beast, my prince." Trolunda gasped, wiping the blood from her nose off her lips. Though she was injured she still looked satisfied.

"Better a 'little beast' than a fucking child predator." You snarled, still trying to free yourself. "Aemond, let me go."

"You have made your point, Y/N." He sounded strained as he kept firm hold of your writhing form.

"Throw her in the dungeons, call in Vhagar, do something!"

"She has done nothing illegal." Aemond said softly, finally releasing you but placing a warning hand on your arm. "We need to leave, now."

"Wait for me outside." You turned to him finally, aware that the Madam watched you with a derisive smirk. "Please, Aemond. If you truly care for me, give me one minute alone with her."

His eye roamed your features for a moment before he looked at the woman over your shoulder. Something in his face hardened and he sighed shortly. "Fine. One minute, and no killing. That's an order."

"Yes sir."

He turned to leave, ushering the people still within the brothel to exit as well before closing the door behind him.

You turned slowly on the spot, facing the woman who once again had the dagger in her hand.

"He is powerless to do anything, as are you." She sneered. "Just as he was when his brother brought him to me."

In a flash you had drawn your bow off your back, notched an arrow, aimed and loosed.

With a cry of fear and grunt of surprise the woman was pinned by the sleeve of her heavy dress to the wall. She raised the dagger in her free hand as if to throw but your second arrow had already flown, pinning her other arm as well.

"I do not rescind what I said." You lowered your weapon, not hiding your smirk at her helpless state. "If any other children fall victim to this establishment you will burn in dragon fire, this I promise you."

After one last withering look, you turned on your heel and departed through the main door.

Aemond saw the Madam pinned by your arrows from the doorway as you left. His brow arched and he looked down at you with an expression you'd never seen before. "Are you finished?"

"Only because you interrupted." You were still in a foul mood; striding passed him and back towards the Keep.

The streets were empty now, apparently the citizens previously present wanted nothing to do with the unfolding drama, especially after Aemond arrived.

Aemond grabbed hold of your elbow, yanking you around to face him non to gently. "What did I say to you yesterday when you were so intent upon coming here?"

"Not to?"

"Ah, so your memory still functions." Aemond was becoming angry, his gaze taking in the blood trickling down from your hairline and the bruises forming upon your jaw. "Tell me why you blatantly disobeyed me."

"Children are being preyed upon, Aemond." You matched him with your own fiery anger, prodding his chest with your finger. "You are not the only on to be taken advantage of. I shudder to think what goes on in King's Landing. Since I am your wife, I have a duty to the people."

"Throwing yourself mindlessly into danger doesn't qualify as one of those duties, Y/N!" Aemond was close to shouting now, something that you had not yet experienced from him before.

"Mindlessly?" You raised your voice as well, your nostrils flaring. "What I did was very calculated, thank you very much."

Aemond passed a hand over his face, suddenly weary. You turned your back to him and continued back to your chambers, fuming. He walked in silent contemplation behind you as you stomped down the halls.

Once safe inside the room you threw aside your weapons and cloak, kicking off your boots and slumping upon the bed, staring unseeing up at the ceiling.

A few minutes later the mattress dipped beside you and Aemond's face hovered into view. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his expression had softened upon seeing the tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I do not wish you to come to any harm, my fierce wife." He spoke softly now, watching as you propped yourself on an elbow to face him.

"I want to avenge the harm already done to you, Aemond." You traced his jaw with your fingers.

"Not if it puts you at risk." He shook his head. "Nothing is worth that." He tilted your own face to the side, examining your injuries with a severe frown. "And you seem intent on suffering for my sake."

"It's not suffering. I made progress in there, believe it or not." You took his hand in yours, lowering it to the mattress. "I just need you to trust me, work with me, and together we can break the cycle."

Aemond studied you for several silent moments, his lips pursed in thought, his lilac gaze suddenly seemed far away as he stared over your shoulder.

"I will think on it." He at last spoke. "For now, I am going to help clean and bandage you. On the morrow we will speak with the council about taking further action on this matter."

"Thank you, Aemond." You gently pressed your lips to his, lingering there to breathe him in. "That's all I ask."

"And no more personal vendettas for my sake." He combed his fingers carefully through your tangled hair. "We will make use of the proper channels as duty dictates."

"No sending in Vhagar?"

"No sending in Vhagar." He chuckled, a low delicious sound. "And I will know if you go to her yourself, Y/N."

You glanced guiltily into his eye, Aemond seemed to have been reading your thoughts. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Mmhmm." Your husband sighed, shaking his silver head before getting out of bed to prepare the wash basin. "What am I going to do with you?" He spoke as if to himself as he gathered healing ointments.

"Hopefully something to take my mind off this horrible headache." You winced as you sat up.

"I'm sure I can come up with something." Aemond graced you with a small smile, a flicker of reverence and gratitude crossing his handsome face as he held your gaze. "For now, let me tend to the injuries you sustained while fighting for my honor."

You both laughed lightly, the crackling fire illuminating the room in a cozy glow as Aemond looked after you with gentle hands and soft kisses against your warm skin.

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damn-stark · 27 days

Text

Chapter 35 …One says c’mon and the other says I’m tired

Chapter 35 of Sugar

A/N- Listen to Mary by Big Thief, it’ll be good I promise!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff, violence and blood, DEATH, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- 234-236

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*A FEW YEARS AGO*

Sneaking around with a guy at your own house is a limit you’ve really even been testing. You’re risking getting in deep trouble, but tonight will be the last night you and your late-night rendezvous will be together.

Soon you’ll leave with your mother on a trip, and when you come back you’ll start school at Jujutsu High, in Tokyo along with your older brother. Soon you will finally have a life outside of these damn walls!

“Hey, hey! Guess who, guess who!” A familiar voice startles you. A voice that belongs to a man that shouldn’t be here…but is he?!

You get off the old wooden swing and twirl around in the direction of the voice, catching your brother of all people approaching you.

Which is kind of inconvenient because you needed to end things with your boy toy, but oh well another day secretly together won’t hurt—as long as your parents or anyone else finds out that is.

“Satoru!” You greet happily and wait for him to meet up with you.

Your brother flashes you a beaming grin and suddenly stops in his tracks to pull his hands out from his back and show off a bottle of sake.

“Look what I have stolen from our parents' cabinet!” He announces and shakes the bottle with both hands before he runs on his giant legs and closes the large gap that was left between you.

Once he’s close you finally probe his surprising presence, you weren’t supposed to see each other until you started school. “What are you doing here, Satoru? Why aren’t you at school?”

“Well,” he says and takes his shades off to illuminate the night with his bright and big blue eyes. “We got sent to a mission nearby and since it’s late we got to stay at a hotel close by, so I said why not come home. I also knew you missed me.”

You roll your eyes and don’t actually deny him because it’s true. Ever since he left for school, you’ve been nothing but bored! The house is so lonely without him.

You won’t admit it though because you don’t want him to get cocky, so instead you decide to press on the fact that he says “we,”.

“So where’s your friend? The guy who understands you better than anyone has,” you mock him as you walk back to sit on the swing. “The guy who doesn’t care if you’re Satoru Gojo, the guy with the six eyes. The first real friend you’ve ever had.”

Satoru frowns and kicks you back, making you chuckle and just lean forward to swing towards him and ask seriously this time so he doesn’t get all butt hurt. “Really where’s your friend Suguru Geto? I’ve been wanting to meet this great friend of yours and see what all the fuss is about.”

Satoru opens the bottle and takes a big swig of the sake, causing you to react with surprise considering he hasn’t drank before. Not even with this beloved friend of his.

“Oh! That was…a big drink…” you trail off and watch him swallow with concern. “Why are you drinking?”

Satoru shrugs. “I'm in high school now. Why shouldn't I?” He throws out too calmly.

“Uh,” you stammer and just agree with him. He already started anyway. “Well, we can share then.”

Satoru pushes the bottle towards you, but just as you’re going to grab the neck of the bottle he pulls back and looks at you with a quizzical brow. “Since when have you drank?”

You pull your arm back to hold the swings rope and answer nonchalantly. “I drink with my friends. But not a lot, just a cup or two. We like to drink and play games.”

Satoru’s eyebrows furrow as he shoots you a pointed look of disapproval. You know he can either try and be a big brother and lecture you, or it can go the other way and he’ll just drop the subject and let you be, but you don’t want to risk it and ruin this surprise visit so you lean forward and snatch the bottle from his hand.

“Now,” you change the subject. “Your friend is he cute? You haven’t shown me a picture!”

Satoru scoffs and sits on the ground across from you, and even then he still looks like a damn giant.

When did he get so damn tall?!

“As if I would ever present you to my best friend. He’s off limits, I told you already.”

You snicker and take a small drink to take it easy unlike, the guy across from you.

“Well, I’m still gonna meet him soon, so I don’t know why you’re bitching?” You clarify. “You should've brought him.”

“No!” Satoru exclaims. “And, he didn't want to come, he had some homework to do or whatnot. I don’t know, he was being responsible.”

“Ah.” You nod in comprehension and mindlessly twist around as you take another drink before it’s snatched from your hand by your brother's giant one.

“How’s it been here?” He makes sure to ask like he always tends to do now that he’s not living here anymore. “Is training going okay? Have they been going easy on you?”

You drop your head and shift the tip of your foot on the ground as you grow pensive.

What could you say? Training is harsh because they know your brother isn’t here to defend you? That you’ve been a total failure and suck at processing with your own damn technique that’s written in your damn being?

You can say all that and he’ll listen, but he’s only here for the night and you don’t want to dump all your problems on him, so you just share something lighthearted instead. “Mother and I have gone over to the Kamo house and while I've been there I have befriended one of them that’s my age. He’s very nice.”

Satoru’s face twists in displeasure at the sound of you and some guy he doesn’t know getting close. “Ew, why?”

He’s trying to be protective but he just sounds rude.

“Because I can have friends Satoru,” you snap back and kick your foot at him.

Satoru side-eyes you before surprising you and taking another large gulp.

“Oh, bro, take it easy, man,” you warn him with genuine concern.

Satoru flicks his wrist to brush you off. “It’s very sweet,” he dismisses you. “It’s good!”

“Hm—”

“We should prank call Suguru,” he suddenly blurts and stands up, casting a large shadow over you and only making your surroundings that much darker.

“What are we?” You remark full of judgment.

Satoru shoves the bottle in your hand and yanks out his phone from his pocket to quickly navigate through his phone.

You take this time to study him and can’t really tell if he’s drunk, he looks as goofy as usual. His smile is turning goofier than usual though, besides that he looks normal. Which is good, you don’t feel like getting in trouble for him getting drunk.

“Here, here,” he says in a hushed voice and hands you his phone that you almost drop because he’s not being careful. “Tell him…”

“Why me?!” You whisper sharply as if that man you’re talking to is nearby.

“Just do it!” Satoru snaps, making you pout at how snappy he’s being. “The phone is ringing he won’t know it’s me!”

“Hello?” A deep and soothing voice answers, making chills go down your spine and a giddy smile to flash on your lips.

“Hello,” you answer back and mock that generic woman's voice you hear in machines guiding you to do something, or in voicemail boxes not set up. “This is the county police department…”

“Good, good,” Satoru whispers in approval and winks at you, making you much more excited to be doing this.

“…calling on behalf of the detainee SATORU GOJO, to inform you that the bail to release the detainee from jail will be…”

“Ten thousand,” Satoru mouths and demonstrates the number with both hands.

It’s a ridiculous amount, but you can’t think of anything on the spot so you go with it. “…ten thousand dollars.”

Satoru snickers maliciously as he nods in agreement whilst you catch a surprised gasp at the other end, making you purse your lips together so as to not laugh.

“Answer yes if you agree to pay bail, or answer no and let this call end.”

“Uh,” Geto hesitates, and somehow this reaction makes Satoru totally ruin the prank by bursting out laughing like a maniac.

There’s no way Geto could’ve missed that!

“Oh,” you assume right as he answers with a deep annoyed breath. “It’s you…make sure to be back early Satoru, or you can find your own way back to the school—“ and just like that Geto hangs up the phone, making Satoru’s laugh die down, and his lips drop to a pout.

However, this time you burst out laughing and point at your brother frowning in defeat.

“He fell for it,” Satoru defends himself.

“Oh,” you gasp for air and drop your head to continue laughing. “This makes me want to meet him that much more. What a funny guy. Oh,” you laugh until your stomach hurts.

“Whatever,” Satoru grumbles and leans over to snatch the bottle. “He fell for it.”

Your laugh slowly dies down, but you keep your head down and smile softly at the ground while the swing slowly moves back and forth as you swing your feet.

You can fill the silence with more humorous suggestions and topics, but as Satoru quiets down you bask in the calmness of the night. It's refreshing, you feel a cool breeze on your face that fights off the summer heat that once overwhelmed you.

When you look up at the sky you see that it’s clear so the moon really gets to show off and provide more light besides the distant wall lights and the garden lights. Your parents or anyone else from your family is pestering you so it’s really relaxing.

“Do you think…I’ll really be the strongest?” Satoru breaks the silence to ask you a deep insecurity. Which is…it’s not rare for him to be vulnerable with you, he doesn’t seem to be scared or ashamed to be so open with you.

And he shouldn’t, there’s so much pressure on his shoulders since he was a kid because of what he was born with. It leaves no room in people’s hearts to really care about him in a deep sense, all they see is power and glory. But you, you care deeply about your brother.

“I know so,” you assure him of his doubts that are born from him drinking that sake. “Not only because it was written in the stars, or because everyone around you says it.”

You finally look down from the sky and meet his gaze reflecting a teary gloss that softens his intense blue eyes.

“I know you’ll be strong because you have the dedication because you have a strong heart.”

“What does that have to do with anything? What does it even mean?” He remarks and averts his gaze.

You sigh and shrug timidly. “I guess it means that you don’t give up, you keep going even if you could’ve given up and abandoned this fate with all the pressure that’s put on you,” you explain quietly as you grow flustered. “You’re smart too, and you keep wanting to learn even if everything at your feet. You’ll be strong because you’re cocky and always keep your head up high, you’re also very stubborn about failing.”

Satoru scoffs and slowly drags his eyes back up to you, and you continue softly so he knows you’re not joking even a bit.

“And I know that a lot of things come easy to you, but when it doesn’t you keep trying until you get it. And most importantly you’re fearless—“

“No,” he cuts you off and shakes his head. “I have fears, just like you. But I told you that it doesn't affect your strength.”

You offer him a soft smile, but before this can turn about you you focus back on him. “You’re also brave, the bravest person I know, and trust me I know, I have known since I was a little girl.” You say and swallow back thick emotions that begin to sting your throat. “And it’s because I know you that I know all I said is why you will be the strongest. I mean that’s what already makes you strong,” you finish with an endearing smile.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I suppose you're right.”

He could’ve said thanks, but whatever, you still can’t help but smile.

A short silence then passes where he takes this time to really digest what you said, knowing that everything you just told him comes from the bottom of your heart. You could be malicious and just tell him what he wants to hear, you have every right to be that way with him with the way your family treats you compared to him, but you always pour out your heart and be genuine with him. He admires you for that.

“Hey, now that you’re here do you want to go watch a movie?” You suggest before he has a chance to black out with that bottle of sake. “I rented this comedy movie I’ve been dying to see.”

Satoru eyes flicker to you and since he can’t find a way to pour out his own heart and express his gratitude he smiles at you and nods in agreement. “Of course! But if I fall asleep, wake me up early before Suguru leaves me behind.”

You push yourself off the swing and shoot him a pointed look. “As if,” you quip. “Be responsible.”

“You sound like Suguru! And after I come all this way to visit you?!” He shouts dramatically.

You face him and nod. “Yes. Now whoever gets inside last…” you trail off to bolt away before he has a chance to win.

“Hey! You had a head start, no fair!” Satoru exclaims after you and doesn’t hesitate to bolt after you.

When you get inside he does end up winning though.

So much for your headstart, and damn his long ass legs!

——

*NOW*

You want to go back to simpler times. You want to take Satori, Choso, Satoru, and everyone you love dearly and keep close to your heart with you and just live simple lives. You can still be a sorcerer, you can still carry that trauma, the bad memories of the past, all you want is not having to worry about Satoru’s fate…

He’s home…

“He ripped off that Shikgami’s tail,” Choso kind of shares with admiration. “Why am I surprised?”

“Because he keeps getting cooler,” Yuji blurts, making Choso’s face flash on a short jealousy that twinges in his very core.

A soft laugh manages to leave your lips before you hold Choso’s arm and whisper. “I think you’re cool.”

Choso meets your gaze and a smile tugs on the corner of his lips before you lean in and press your lips on his and give him a lingering kiss.

“Thank you again,” you whisper against his lips even if you already expressed your gratitude to him for being so caring and attentive. You just know that in your lifetime you will never actually get to express how grateful you really are for him not growing tired or asking for anything in return while dealing with you, and your rollercoaster of emotions today. You certainly will try though every moment you can. He deserves to hear it.

“For what?” He asks cluelessly.

You offer him a warm and loving gaze and respond sweetly. “For today. For everything.”

Choso opens his lips and you know he’s going to say some stoic shit like well, “of course, I’ll always look out for you, it’s nothing.” So instead you cut him off and give him another lingering kiss so you can both savor the sweet taste before you bask in the comfort of his presence and lay your head on his shoulder to focus back on the screens, catching Mahoraga swing his blade and hurl rubble at Satoru. However, nothing hits him due to his infinity technique.

A flash of hits proceeds to happen that go by too quickly for you to catch so the next thing you know Satoru is in front of the second shikigami, and swings his fist so hard and so fast that the shikigami doesn’t catch him. Instead, it gets punched, causing you to react with an entertained smirk.

“You’re nothin’ but a one-trick pony,” you hear Satoru quip. He then proceeds to use the air to back away from

Mahoraga’s swing, whilst keeping a distance from the other shikigami. He then moves one leg forward and one arm back to prepare to swing at Mahoraga, but then in the blink of an eye Mahoraga swings his mighty blade with a swift woosh, and the next thing you see is part of Satoru’s arm flying away after it was cut off.

It was…

And he’s not bleeding…

His arm…

“Satoru!” you cry out and shove yourself to your feet.

“Mahoraga used his slashes?!” Kusakabe cuts in with surprise.

You grab at your chest as it feels like you’re suddenly at a loss for air.

This could mean the end…

“He struck from range?!” Yuji exclaims. “Just like Sukuna?!”

All you can see is Satoru on the screens, you can’t see anyone around you, it’s like you can only focus on him. You can hear the others fine, but there’s darkness all around you and Satoru ahead, besides you’re numbing fear.

“This is bad!” Shoko bellows and only worsens you’re already panicked state—“Gojo’s healing ability is dropping!”

Your heart pounds in your ears, and just as you feel the blood in your veins rush and make your hands tremble, a large hand cups your shoulder, feeling like a warm sun that slowly radiates warmth all over your frozen and stiff body.

“My Love,” Choso whispers, and then in a very affectionate and soothing way speaks your name before he carefully attempts to assure you. “He can heal that arm. He’s strong enough to do that. He’s okay.”

You blink and look over your shoulder to meet Choso’s gaze, feeling that tunnel vision fade, but not feeling the terror ungrasp you, it digs its claws in you and keeps your hands trembling and your mind thinking you can’t breathe.

“It’s okay, just breathe, hm? He’s still alive,” Choso adds a lot more confidently now that he sees you’re not turning him away like before. “Breathe.”

He grabs both of your shoulders and turns you to face him so you can see him slowly draw in a deep breath and slowly push it out, making you mirror his actions until you’re not heaving.

“Good,” he murmurs and slides his hands up to caress your face before he drops his hands to walk you both back to your seat and focus back on the battle with one hand still hugging his.

However, perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea returning your focus back on the screen because you catch Satoru being hurled back by Sukuna’s kick, and landing right across the other shikigami. The moment the Shikigami's eyes land on Satoru, it lunges forward and throws its giant fist, but misses due to Satoru’s infinity, which is comforting. You can breathe at the fact that you’re brother isn't slammed with another mighty swing that could have pushed him closer to the end now that he also needs to grow back an entire fucking arm!

“Ya know, what I’ve been thinkin’?” Satoru blurts with a hint of craziness and cockiness mixed together. Maybe it’s because he just lost an arm—“you just don’t fit in with this crowd!”

Your lips part as a blue glowing orb forms around his hand before in a flash your brother is upon the shikigami with his fist buried in its gut.

Mahoraga falls in front of its lord master and makes it his priority to protect him as Satoru proclaims his dangerous words. “Maximum output Blue!”

Your eyes widen with glee as Satoru’s technique drags the shikigami across a building, cutting it in half with its tremendous power as it scrapes the wall. You think it’ll fly away further, but the orb stops past the building and seems to swallow the shikigami in before it bursts and blows the shikigami to pieces, leaving Sukuna and Mahoraga left on the battlefield once again. While Satoru—well Choso was right, you could’ve realized that if it wasn’t for your panic.

Regardless Satoru grows his arm back, and his intense eyes gleam while his lips widen to a smirk as he seems to be pumped with more exhilaration and adrenaline.

Something so clear as day that you can’t help but feel a trickle of that excitement rushing through your own blood after witnessing such a feat. And it seems that the exhilaration running through your brother fuels his thirst for blood because he quickly manages to get a swing on Mahoraga. And when the giant beast gets hit he does manage to keep his feet on the side of the building but he ends up sliding back, leaving Sukuna in front of Satoru.

This time the evil man can’t maneuver himself away, so your brother zooms to him and manages to snatch his wrist before he twists his body around and swings Sukuna with him before hurling him at Mahoraga.

Of course, the beast catches him and guards him from Satoru, but nothing stops your brother from slamming his fist in Mahoraga’s forearm so hard that the beast breaks through the building and hits the wall inside with Sukuna still in his arms like a mother would protect its child.

Satoru proceeds to surprise you by not following them inside, he stays outside and instead points his finger to the sky, and sets a deadly gaze on his opponents.

“Phase. Pāramitā. Pillars of light.”

“He’s chanting again,” you proclaim and sit up as straight as a board as you’re bombarded with a rush of heart-pounding anticipation.

Is he going to hit them with his technique?

What if they swerve him and he just wastes his cursed energy on destroying more property?

But no…your brother is smarter than that, right?

Please don’t waste your energy on shooting at them…

“Cursed technique reversal,” Satoru announces and stretches his arm out to shoot a blue glowing orb from his fingers that grows in size the further it gets in the sky.

“Mahoraga!” Sukuna barks out with panicked rage, making the beast break every window and crack his surroundings as he immediately bursts out of that building to chase after Satoru’s blue technique.

You would think Satoru would chase after him to stop Mahoraga from getting in the way, but you end up gasping when Satoru shoots out a red orb too, and finally clues you in on what he’s planning to do.

He’s planning to expel his hollow technique…But not at his opponents, there’s no single target, the target is everything.

This plan can kill him too. In the same way, Yuki was killed by her own black hole.

“This better work,” you mutter and gnaw on your nail while you bounce your leg.

You can think of 3 different alternatives; one it kills Sukuna and Mahoraga at the same time but Satoru dies with them too. Two, none of them die and just get heavily wounded. Or three, this plan kills both Sukuna and Mahoraga and leaves your brother as the winner…

You want the latter.

Nevertheless, you watch Satoru get in the way of Mahoraga before it could reach blue. And the moment Mahoraga notices your brother, he blocks his face with his blade to prevent getting hit, thus letting Satoru quickly counter him by instead slamming his fist into Mahoraga’s chin.

All while that is processing though, Sukuna uses the shadows to appear behind his guardian, Mahoraga, and claps his hands together to point the tip of his fingers at Satoru’s red.

“He’s gonna hit it with piercing blood,” Choso murmurs under his breath.

You let out a deep breath, and feel your heart clench in your chest as you watch a blood arrow shoot towards red.

Satoru doesn’t seem bothered by the action, instead, he finds his way towards Sukuna and punches him across his torso.

“Too slow,” Sukuna says nonchalantly when he straightens up completely unbothered.

Once again Satoru passes him an unphased look and parts his lips to chant again. “Phase. Twilight. The eyes of prajñā.”

The blood arrow was redirected and hits blue, but following the incantations Satoru activated its output, so piercing blood is absorbed, letting you let out a sigh of relief. Albeit small, but you still sigh.

“Nine ropes,” Satoru starts to chant again, rising the way your heart already pounds.

“Polarized light. Crow and Shōmyō. The gap between within and without.”

Amid his chanting Yuta calls out your name before he interjects sincerely. “I apologize. If a burden like me were out there, he wouldn’t have done this.”

“You just wanted to help Satoru, it’s okay,” you assure him and blink to look back at the screen, catching the last words before the big explosion.

“Hollow technique: Purple.”

Your breath catches, and you squint your eyes as a blinding explosion goes off silently for the first few seconds before the stereos shake the room with the deafening blast that destroys the city with its unbelievable power, leaving nothing but rubble…and two bodies left standing.

Sukuna. And Satoru!

Mahoraga is gone, turned to nothing but dust, which turns out to be a fourth alternative you didn’t think about. A good alternative.

“Good job,” you whisper to your brother from your seat, and can’t help but share your proud smile.

This can lead to the end…

“An unlimited purple not bound by any specific target. It even hit me!” Satoru’s smug voice echoes as he walks out of a cloud of dust with smoke rising off the wounds he suffered because of the blasts.

“But sure enough, there’s a difference in damage,” Satoru goes on and comes to a stop in front of a limping Sukuna missing a part of his arm, and covered in blood, and fresh scrapes. “I guess my cursed energy pool is just that huge. Welp, all’s well that ends well! I totally crushed the improv with that remote purple don’tcha think?”

“Come on kill him already,” Choso mutters impatiently, making you lean towards him with a happy smile.

“It’s Gojo who regained his reverse cursed technique output through those black flashes,” Kusakabe breaks the stunned silence that filled the room. “Versus Sukuna with slowed healing, no Mahoraga, and an inability to do a lick of damage without amplification.”

“Satoru is just that great,” you finally admit with no urgency to keep it a secret so Satoru wouldn’t hear it and grow his grande ego.

“Does this mean…” Yuji trails off with disbelief as he watches the screen wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Kusakabe says. “Gojo wins.”

He just needs to execute a final technique and he will win.

Just do it.

Satoru takes a step forward, and you catch a snowflake falling on the other side of the screen. The first snow of winter finally started.

Soon you can come home with Satoru, Choso, Yuji, Kirara, Hakari, and Satori, and you’ll be able to enjoy the snow; tea, or hot cocoa while you watch a movie and stay warm inside. Soon you can go home together.

You can’t help but rejoice at that thought and smile faintly to yourself.

All Satoru needs is a finishing move…

Your body eases at that relieving thought, and you draw out a deep breath and blink. Albeit, as soon as you blink suddenly a sharp whoosh of wind comes out of the stereo followed by the fulsome sound of flesh being slashed.

You fixate your eyes on a different screen and…suddenly it feels like the air is knocked out of your lungs. You abruptly freeze and your jaw drops as your eyes widen in horror.

Your surroundings vanish as your focus forces you to just stare dumbfoundedly at the top half of Satoru’s body sliding off the bottom half of his body, and hitting the floor with an awful thud that manages to disrupt your ability to hear anything.

However, what you see can’t be true, it’s not true. Your brother is not gushing blood out of his mouth on the ground. One of his arms isn’t ripped off him and on the ground across from him. He’s not lying still on the cold ground. That’s not him, it’s not real. It’s a cruel joke.

This isn’t real…

Yet no matter how much you want the screen to change to your brother ending this fight and winning, the image of Sukuna standing proudly over his lifeless body doesn’t change. So you squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head to wish for it to change back. You plead under your breath with unknowing tears rushing down your cheeks.

Choso stands in front of you and grabs your shoulders to try and aid in your distress, but you’re actually not aware of his touch, you can’t hear him repeatedly say your name as if he’s pleading for your life, you sit frozen pleading that none of this is true.

You want this to be a dream.

You want to go back. You don’t want to feel your heart breaking again. Not again. You want to go back to your family home, back when you were young because you were unaware of the anguish life had in store for you, because then Satoru still had his life ahead of him. You want to go back home…

“Please, please,” you repeat like a broken record.

Choso shakes you and finally breaks you away from the clutches of your numbing shock. You meet his gaze and see his soft and pretty brown eyes full of pity and anguish. Not for what just happened, but for you and your pain.

“Listen to me, my love, listen to me,” he murmurs and slides his hands up to grab your cheeks and try to talk you down so you can go on with the plan you have, but it’s at the feeling of his soft touch against your rigid body that you feel the sharp waves of your heart-shattering. You feel your entire being slowly wither as you realize what happened to the brother you love.

Death took him. Death took your home, your only older brother Satoru. The man who loved you when your family gave you the cold shoulder is gone. He’s not breathing no matter how long you watch in wait. He’s gone…and you can’t breathe now.

You grab at Choso’s arms for support as you gasp for air, but the weight of your anguish pushes you off your seat and knocks you down to your knees.

“Just look at me,” Choso tries to help you. He calls your name and tries to hold you up, but you slip from his hold and fall on your hands and knees to try and find a way to breathe from there.

But to no avail, you don’t feel the relief of a fresh breath running through your lungs, your mind repeats the sound of the deadly slash cutting through Satoru’s body. The image of his bleeding and lifeless body on the cold ground tortures you, sending waves of pain throughout your body that shoves you further into an abyss.

How can you be here again? First Suguru, Kiyoshi, the twins, Nanami, and Yuki.

How can you be here again?

You don’t want to feel grief's heavy shawl again. You don’t want to feel it again. You don’t want Satoru to be…gone.

You plead desperately again as you beg for a breath, leaving yourself unaware of your surroundings until Choso’s grasp startles you as he pulls you up, and pins your arms to your side.

You think he’s going to make you hold his gaze again and try to talk you down, but this time he pulls you against him and protectively wraps his arms around you to squeeze you against him with a tight force that washes you over with comfort.

So much in fact that you finally let yourself breathe as you cling onto him as if he’s life support.

“Choso,” your voice quivers.

Choso caresses the back of your head and presses a gentle kiss on the side of your head as he coos, “I know. I know. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into his back and dig your face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you croak into his neck as your tears soak his flesh.

“It’s okay,” he tries to soothe you.

But you’re restless, you pull back and face him. Choso brings his hands up and cups your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” his whisper breaks. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

You grab his hands and shake your head. “No, no. Don’t say that. Please…don’t say that,” you beg with streaks of tears rushing down your face. “Please, Choso…you have to do something…please honey. Please.”

Choso swallows thickly and tears form in his eyes. Before he can only step on the shattered pieces of your heart you keep going as if trying to persuade him. “I can’t tell Satori, I can’t tell her someone else she loves is dead.”

Choso wipes your tears with his thumbs and presses his forehead against yours to talk to you like that because he knows this touch is comforting for you as much as it is for him.

“My love,” he murmurs and gently speaks your name with sadness clinging to his voice. Sadness and comfort.

Yet as much as he wants that to help, it’s no use. His voice registers in your mind, but bloody images of your brother's body flashes in your mind and it’s like getting slammed with that realization for the first time all over again.

This time though there’s no struggle to breathe, this time you don’t try to fight the truth before you. You know the truth, you feel it torturing you without mercy. This time as you slip your grasp from Choso, and drop to your hands and knees you let out a heartbroken wail that silences everyone and makes everyone be hit with another wave of anguish.

Hakari, Kirara, and Yuji see you shaking and sobbing, and the only person who can manage to say something is Hakari. Kirara is too stunned, and Yuji is also still processing what he just saw.

“Master,” Hakari calls out.

You press your lips together and swallow back a thick lump of stinging emotions before you meet Hakari’s stricken gaze. You want to say something, but you can’t find anything comforting to say. You want to tell him you’ll be okay, but that’s not true, so you can’t even form the words in your head. Tears escape you again as another wave of anguish strikes you.

“It’s not the end,” Hakari's words hit your ears.

You’re left speechless with his words repeating in your head and finding some resolve. But not enough, it threatens to slip away until Choso swoops in and grabs your cheeks to lift your head and face him.

He says your name in a gentle and soothing way that makes you melt in his grasp and cry more.

“I know you just want to be here and cry,” he says, “but we need you. We need you to be strong. I need you to be strong. I know it sounds impossible, but Hakari’s right, it's not the end. There’s still plans to see through. People need you to do your part. Do you hear me?”

You hold his gaze and don’t say anything, so he enforces himself and slides one hand down to place it over your heart like you did with him when you first met and you told him for the first time that he was human. You were the first person to tell him that, you were the first person to help him feel human.

Now he’s the first person to break through your grief.

“It hurts I know,” he whispers against you as he uses his other thumb to caress your cheek. “But I need you to fight.”

You blink repeatedly and slowly lay your hand over his hand that he has pressed against your beating heart.

“Fight for him,” he says words to try and comfort you and fuel your motivation in a way he knew how. “Fight for your brother. Avenge him. And let's finish what he started.”

You nod as the words slowly sink in.

“Stand up and fight. Stand up and help Okkotsu finally get rid of Noritoshi Kamo. Fight my love so you can home to your girl. For him, your brother Satoru Gojo.”

“And you.” You say hoarsely.

Choso blinks repeatedly in disbelief and for now he pushes away how flustered you make him to comfort you. “Hm. Get up and fight. You’re strong. You have a strong heart. So live on, we need you.”

That’s right, isn’t it?

You have a duty, plans to see through to bring an end to this horror. As much as you want to curl up and cry, you can’t, you have to do as Choso says. You have to fight.

You have to get up and kill Kenjaku so you can then kill that bastard Sukuna.

You will be his demise. You will be death. Again.

“Okay,” you mutter to Choso.

Choso lets out a deep breath and offers you a gentle smile before he presses a sweet and short kiss on your lips.

“Don’t leave me okay?” You plead more than you ask.

“Never,” he promises from the bottom of his beating heart, and seals that promise with another kiss before he helps you to your feet.

And the moment you get up Shoko softly calls your name, pulling your attention to her standing close, and getting welcomed with another wave of grief as you see her own in her eyes and the tears that pool within them

Nothing is said about what happened and who you lost, but you both know you share the same deep ache just by staring into each other's soul, so you seek comfort in each other's embrace.

“Yuta’s waiting for you, okay?” Shoko says and doesn’t verbally touch on the other matter, you can’t speak on it because you’ll fall deeper into the abyss, and this time she’ll be dragged with you. That’s why you share that grief with the embrace, and when you pull back you speechlessly share your condolences in between your gleaming gazes.

“You better come back,” she says as she grabs onto you with a fear of letting go. “Please.”

She’s lost just as much, making you the last person she has close to her heart.

“I will,” you assure Shoko. “I swear.”

Shoko lets out a deep sigh and nods softly before she lets you go, letting you walk to Hakari standing close by.

“I believe in you Kinji,” you share a bit more tenderly than you intended. You wanted to be motivational considering when you come back he’ll be fighting Uraume. But oh well you don’t regret sounding too affectionate even if you are around his friends. “You have luck, and most importantly strong will. Just don’t play stupid.”

Hakari scoffs and nudges your arm. “Never. Not in my game.”

You share a soft laugh before you offer him a tender smile. “I’m proud of you. I just need you to know that. I’m proud of you, and Kirara,” you also mention them and glance over at them with the same affectionate look. “Fight hard, the both of you. And most importantly stay alive or I will drag you back just to scold you.”

Kirara chuckles before they close the gap between you with an embrace.

You’re taken back by the gesture even if you’re used to it by them, but feeling them embrace you without needing to ask for one and with an immeasurable amount of affection always surprises you.

“I’ll make it back,” you assure them as you return their embrace. “Kenjaku will hardly be an obstacle if all goes according to plan.”

“We’ll be counting on your return, master,” they whisper before they mumble, “I’m sorry for what happened.”

Your hand stiffens for a moment, but you then realize that you can’t just freeze and break down at the mention of your brother. Not right now, so you let out a shaky breath and pull back to grab their shoulders. “Be careful Kira.”

You look over at Hakari and direct the same thing at him. “You be careful too.”

“Always,” he winks at you and shoots you a smirk.

You scoff with amusement before you back away and turn to face Choso and Yuji.

Now you know you don’t have time to spare, but you have to get your point across to Yuji, so before saying your goodbyes to Choso, you instead approach his brother who is caught by surprise as he didn’t expect you to get so close.

“Listen,” you don’t take time to warm up to him. “You have a gift, Yuji, and great strength. Don’t let Sukuna tell you otherwise. But,” you add seriously while you carefully grab one of his arms and pierce your serious gaze into him so he can engrave what you say in his soul. “With this power and strength might come a responsibility that will fall on your shoulders. I wouldn’t want it to be up to you, and I know Choso doesn’t want it either, but if it falls on you, listen to your heart,” you say and point at his chest. “And your mind. Don’t get discouraged, it might happen, but fight and listen and you’ll know what to do. And whatever you choose it will be okay, it doesn’t make you any less strong. Hm?”

Yuji’s eyes soften and he doesn’t respond, but he offers you a grateful smile as he nods in comprehension.

“Good,” you say and pat his shoulder. “Be careful out there all right?”

“You too,” he redirects sweetly, making you offer him an assuring smile before you turn away from him and approach Choso, choosing to immediately meet him with an embrace.

“Please be careful,” he tells you with worry that makes his voice quiver. “Please.”

Now that you’re in his arms you lose that confidence you held for the kids and shed tears. “Please live,” you press him too. “Please. I don’t want to raise these babies without you.”

Choso pulls back to grab your face and try and comfort you the best way he can even if he’s uncertain of the future. “I promise I will fight to stay by your side. I swear it. You will not raise the twins alone.”

You lean into his touch and gently grab his wrist. “I love you,” you murmur as you hold his soft brown eyes.

A smile spreads on his face and doesn’t hesitate to say it back. “I love you.”

You offer him a wobbly grin and lift your head off his hand to slide your hand over to grab the sides of his neck and assure him of something that’s been irritating him. “When I come back I will come with a piece of Noritoshi. I will avenge you, your brothers, and your mother.”

Without saying anything and making the unbelievable possible he falls deeper in love with you at the promise of revenge for him and those he deeply cherishes.

“I give you my word,” you press and manage to smirk. “Our kids will be able to live their lives without fearing your father.”

You will also get justice for the fact that Kenjaku took Suguru’s body, and killed Yuki, but you don’t tell Choso those parts. You keep it to yourself.

“You will find peace without him roaming this earth,” you finish making him grin.

“I love you,” he asserts proudly before he leans in and crashes his lips on yours to take you in for a passionate and lingering goodbye kiss.

You almost don’t intend to pull away, but you can’t stay here a moment longer, so even if it pains you, you pull back, leaving yourselves connected by a string of saliva that he wipes off.

“I’ll make my way back,” you add one more ounce of comfort before you leave him with a peck on his lips and then walk to Okkotsu patiently waiting for you.

Before you can reach him albeit, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your beloved Worm cursed spirit.

“Let’s get Suguru back,” you tell him confidently as he stretches himself so you cling him on your shoulders before you walk out with Okkotsu leading the way.

You’re an unlikely pair, but it’s what has to happen to kill Kenjaku.

——

*GOJO. WHERE? UNKNOWN*

A morbid silence set upon the group of men as Satoru finally really, deeply processed what happened, how the end of his life came to be.

And he knows that there isn’t anything that could’ve been done to avoid his fate, not when it came to someone like Sukuna, but…he’s dead now. Gone!

His mind is racing with that reality, and he badly wants to share it all to make sense of the whole thing, but he also already said all he needed to say with his friends, so he’s stuck just listening to his mind make sense of the craziness that is dying.

That is until one person comes to mind, someone he hasn’t talked about, someone that now weighs down on his heart; you.

Dying without regrets is something he wants to stick to, so he won’t regret dying and leaving you, but if he could change things he would make it so he wouldn’t have left you. After all, he promised he’d protect you, didn’t he? Now that he’s gone he can longer do that…

Just like he can no longer see Satori or the other kids you are going to have. He can no longer make up for lost time, or really make up for leaving that day 11 years ago. He can’t do anything with you anymore, he can only talk about you.

“So,” he rolls out casually and slowly glances over at Suguru. “Your wife…” he trails off and Suguru blinks before setting his gaze on Satoru and directing him a questioning look.

“What about her?” Suguru asks cautiously.

Satoru huffs as he nods slowly. “11 years huh?”

Suguru narrows his gaze and starts to predict where this could go. “Yeah—”

“Thanks for the invite to your wedding by the way,” Satoru just cuts him off, making Suguru huff. “I would’ve liked to be there to walk my sister down the aisle.”

“If it’s any consolation I didn’t get invited either,” Nanami interjects with a small smile.

“Me neither,” Haibara cuts in and jokes around, making all three men look at him and snicker before the focus is drifted back on the topic.

“Anyway—”

“Anyway,” Suguru cuts Satoru off now. “You know why you weren’t invited so please just drop it.”

Satoru parts his lips to argue, but there’s no point because Suguru is right…he wasn’t invited because you didn’t talk with him, you were still mad at him, so whatever, he’ll leave it be. Now albeit! Off to something else.

“Great kid, by the way, she really has spirit.”

Satoru smiles and at the same time he swallows thickly as he thinks about you having to tell Satori he’s gone; She’s going to be so sad…

When he looks over at Suguru however before he can feel anguish, he sees that Suguru is hunched over, with his head on his hand, and his face covered so it's impossible to see his reaction on the matter.

“Yeah,” Suguru whispers softly. “She takes after her mother.”

Satoru keeps looking at Suguru to wait for a small expression, but Suguru keeps his face hidden.

“You…did good raising her, she’s a good kid,” Satoru adds. “A lot nicer than her mother.”

Suguru finally raises his head and when Satoru’s eyes set on him he sees that there’s tears welled in his brown eyes. But even still, Suguru makes sure to correct him. “It wasn’t just me who raised her,” he says, and then says your name too as a reminder of who was also there to raise his beloved daughter. “We raised her together.”

“Well,” Satoru says softly. “You guys did good…I mean it surprised me that she knew about me.”

A smile finally breaks on Suguru’s features, a soft one filled with longing. “Thanks, and…she never wanted you to be a stranger to Satori. We would tell her stories and so would Nanami. Besides everything else, your sister never stopped loving you. When Satori was born…I would see how much she wanted you to be a part of her life again.”

The ache in Satoru's heart was already deep enough, and now hearing this?

He almost wants to cry but he doesn’t let himself do so, instead, he just smiles sadly at the ground.

“Did you know that Satori talks to me every night,” Suguru lets Satoru know with a hint of sorrow but also joy. “It doesn’t matter if she’s feeling really tired, or if it's past her bedtime, and she doesn’t care where she is, she always talks to me before she goes to bed…” Suguru pauses and drops his head again, this time the tears are obvious as Satoru watches them fall on the ground.

“She tells me about her day, what made her mad or sad. She tells me about what tooth she lost or if her mother was sad or mad. She…never forgets about me…”

“I know,” Satoru whispers as he keeps his eyes set on him. “My sister never lets her forget. And she tells me too—she would tell me too.”

Suguru swallows thickly and nods while his smile never leaves his face. “I try to visit her in her dreams. She always gets happy…it will never be the same as actually seeing her, but…for a moment it feels like I’m with her again….I miss her. I miss the both of them…” he whispers in a way that Satoru would’ve missed if he wasn’t so close.

Satoru would’ve also missed the tears that still fell from Suguru’s cheeks.

And seeing him so upset over something he can only long for now made him feel the need to comfort his best friend, but he just stays in his seat and feels bad without consoling his friend. Instead, he interjects with something else. In hopes that would help. “Well, your wife is married to a short man with blood manipulation.”

Behind him, Nanami shares a judgmental click of his tongue, not to be aimed at Choso or you, but it was for Satoru’s abrupt and thoughtless change in subject.

Yet Satoru doesn’t care, he goes on to complain. “I mean it wasn't even a year since you died and she married him.”

Suguru wipes the tears off his cheeks and slowly sits up with his eyes still averted. “Yes,” he says bluntly. “I know.”

Satoru leans forward abruptly. “Does that not make you mad? I mean, my sister, your wife is with another man. Whom she’s having babies with!”

Suguru shoots him a pointed glare. “You didn’t even like me and your sister together, Satoru, why do you care now?”

Satoru sputters and then scoffs and counters. “I was just looking out for you and her. You’re my best friend and she’s my sister, I didn’t want either of you to get hurt. I didn’t want to potentially face any of that trouble. And I care now because, I don’t know, it feels like she hasn’t processed you or what happened. Her fear of being alone let her get carried away before she could even process what happened.”

Suguru meets his gaze with a hardened glare and makes sure Satoru sees his frustration and disappointment for what he just said about you.

“You don’t really know your sister do you?” He retorts.

Satoru opens his mouth but Suguru interjects before he can say something stupid. “Your sister loves her children the way she wanted to be loved. She hates the way they taught her to hate. And she grieved me with every fiber of her being. I saw her, I would see her cry every night. I saw how depressed she got, how she hid it from the girls, from you. I saw her not value her life, she contemplated dying to ease the ache. So seeing her be happy, seeing someone make her smile is not something I’m mad about, I’m glad. All I want is for her to be happy, it sounds cliche, but it’s true because I love her, why would I want her to be miserable?”

Okay yeah, Satoru deserved that one. After all, he wants you to be happy too. He didn’t really see how hurt you were, maybe that’s why it was so easy to make assumptions and be mad for someone else.

He also never let himself see how much Suguru loved you, and how much you loved him. Sure running off with him required some kind of affection, but a part of him took you leaving with Suguru as some desperate move because you had no one else to go to. But once again he’s been proven wrong and learning again that you loved each other for real and a lot deeper than he ever considered.

However, there can’t be anything done about it now. Not even regret, so he decides to press Suguru one time. For the hell of it. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be jealous. You’re not even a little mad that your wife is with someone else?”

Suguru holds his gaze for a moment with a look of annoyance and disbelief at what was just said. However, he then drops his head and sighs. “Yes, I’m jealous that my wife is married to someone else…but it’s not like she can wait on someone that’s already dead. I can’t—”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Satoru cuts him off smugly as he sits back in his seat. “Don’t bore me with sappy shit.”

“You’re annoying,” Suguru grumbles and turns away. “Besides you killed me hence taking me away from my wife and my daughter,” Suguru is not afraid to say, making Satoru snap his head towards Suguru and gasp.

Yet there’s nothing that can be said, it’s true. As much as it hurts him, it’s true so he takes it.

Instead, he adds one more thing filled with sorrow. “I really hurt her now didn’t I?”

Suguru shifts in his seat and nods. “She knows that nothing could’ve been done to prevent what happened, but yes, you really hurt her this time.”

Satoru scratches the back of his head and whispers under his breath. “Damn it.”

A/N- I hope you guys liked it!! And thanks to @adrlsbbdbd for giving me the idea to add a Suguru and Satoru convo!!

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

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firstkanaphans · 9 months

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I think the thing that makes me lose my mind the most upon rewatching the episode is how...very into it Sand is the whole time?? Like, the minute he has Ray in his car HE's the one who goes all "ugh, I COULD have hooked up with someone tonight" 🙄😒 and planting the seed in Ray's mind. I wasn't sure if that line was intentional, but I am certain there's a HUGE shift in Sand's demeanor when Ray asks him if he's been hit on by men. It's almost like Sand realizes and gets confirmation like, "ohhh, so that IS where this could be going?" and from there he's also the one who asks if he's supposed to be a hooker tonight and then on top of it all, the way he says "if I'm interested, I do it for free" and giving Ray that Look after just seemed sooo pointed. Like Sand's making it very clear where he is on the whole thing but wants Ray to be the one to make the final move (which Ray 100% does deliver 😂). And he doesn't hesitate at all! When Ray leans in Sand kisses him back immediately without missing a single beat.

and then once sand makes it clear they're 'only friends', and ray kisses him the second time, they even start taking their clothes off at the same time lol. like, sand is trying to be chill about this whole thing but he wants this just as much as Ray does, I think 👀

(i hope it's okay i'm screaming about these two in your inbox 😅 these two have been living rent free in my mind and i needed to vent to someone haha!)

Oh, please scream away! None of us are sane here 😂

I don’t think there was ever a question from either of them about where things were headed. The writer said that Sand lighting Ray’s cigarette in episode one was meant to symbolize him lighting the fire of their relationship and I think everything that happened from that moment on was just very elaborate foreplay. The bigger question in my eyes is why?

Ray’s motivations are obvious. Sand showed him an ounce of kindness and he imprinted on that man so fast he should be embarrassed by it. But like you said, Sand seems to have a soft spot for Ray as well. A softer spot, quite frankly, than he probably deserves.

Why would Sand want to have a one-night stand with a spoiled rich boy who has more baggage than an airport when there are far easier targets out there? Is it about the thrill of the chase? Is it simply physical? Honestly, I don’t know.

My best guess is that Ray reminds him of someone. An ex-boyfriend, perhaps? Maybe one who drove drunk and got himself killed?

All I know for sure is that Sand is fond. He likes that Ray’s a spoiled brat. He likes that he can tease him. He likes that he teases him back. I’ve seen people say that Sand’s already in love and I don’t think we’re anywhere close to that yet, but you’re absolutely right. Sand knew exactly what would happen if he took Ray home that night and he did it anyway. He didn't even have to bribe him with a monstera!

What I'm looking forward to most about next week is watching Ray beg Sand for more. Maybe it'll humble him a little.

#only friends the series #sandray #asks

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samaraannhan20 · 10 months

Text

Harry Styles Imagine: College AU! Spring Break

A/N: I definitely rushed the ending of this, but I’ve been working on it since my spring break and never finished it so I wanted to give it some type of ending.

Warnings: fem!reader, college!reader, slight sexual references

“How was the concert last night H?” I ask Harry over the phone as I sit on the couch, browsing netflix and trying to find something to watch.

“It was good. I’m excited for the last two concerts, one here and the one in Auckland. Plus, you’re on spring break now, which means I can just call you whenever,” he says, and I can tell that he’s smiling, even though I can’t see him. “By the way, I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, because you’re you,” and I hear him laugh over the phone. “So I ordered you some food. It should be there soon.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds good. I didn’t really want to have to wash dishes anyway. Plus I just cleaned the kitchen today. What’d you order me?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll see when it gets there,” he says, and then he asks me what I’m going to turn on.

“I’m not sure yet. I checked out some of the Bridgerton books at the library, so I might watch that. Or there’s a new season of Outerbanks to watch,” I say, and then hear something besides his voice come through the phone, and he carries on a conversation with the other person.

“Oh, darling,” he says when he stops talking to the other person, “I have to go. It’s almost final check time. I bet whatever you pick will keep you entertained. I’ll text you when the show is over, because I know you’ll be asleep by then. I love you.”

“I love you too H. Have an amazing show,” I tell him, before hanging up the phone. I lay back on the couch, and turn on Bridgerton as I relax and bask in the feelings of being on spring break. I don’t even make it halfway through an episode before there’s a knock on my door. I slowly get up and go answer the door, and when I open it, it’s not the food I was expecting. “Sarah?”

“Hey! How are you?” she replies as she steps through the door, giving me a hug, before making her way to the kitchen because she has a bag of takeout.

“Good, but what are you doing here?”

“Haz asked me to bring you some take out, I brought your favorite.”

“Oh, okay,” I say, and sit down next to her as we eat dinner together. We make small talk between bites, and before long we’re done and just talking.

“Right, well. Time to start packing,” she says as she stands up.

“Pack for what Sarah? I’m not going home for spring break this year,” I tell her, a little confused about what’s happening.

“Oh right,” she says around the mouthful of food she just shoved in her mouth. “I’m supposed to give you,” she pauses as she digs around in her purse. “This envelope. H sent it to Mitch and I’s house, with instructions to give it to you.” She hands the envelope to me, and I excitedly rip it open.

Dear Y/N,

Happy spring break my love! I’m so glad you get to take a break from your studies.

Now, I know that you aren’t going home, and that you were planning to use this week to read a bunch of books and take a break from your homework. But I thought “I have the money. Why don’t I fly my love out to me in Australia, and then fly her back to school from Bangkok?”

So, that’s what I did. If I timed it right, Sarah will be forwarding the email with your tickets to you right now. You fly out *your* midnight tonight. You have three hours to pack and will still make it to the airport with enough time to make it through security with an hour to sit before your flight (just how I know you like it.) Now, get to packing. I’ll see you when you get here.

All my love,

Your H

“Sarah, what the fuck did I just read?”

“What do you mean? Check your phone, the tickets are there. Come sit down and eat and I’ll get your suitcase out. Same place as last time?” I numbly nod my head, as I grab my phone and look at the tickets. I’m scrolling through the email, and then I quickly pull up Harry’s number and call him.

“Hi darling. I’m guessing you got my gift?” he says, rather snugly, when he answers the phone.

“Yeah I did. Harry, you didn’t have to do this,” I say, with absolute shock coming through my voice.

“I know I didn’t. But I miss you, and I figured what better time for you to come visit than when you’re on spring break,” he says, and I can hear that he deeply means it.

“H, I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you did this. I’m so excited I can barely see straight. I love you so much.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just start packing. I’ll see you in the afternoon. I love you too. I have to get back to work now, love.”

“Okay Harry. I’ll see you soon,” I say, and then hang up. “Got that suitcase out Sarah?” I shout, before heading in the direction of the bedroom.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

As I pull my carry-on through the airport, I’m constantly shocked by just how different this airport is from the ones in America. I finally find my way to the baggage claim, and grab my bag as soon as I see it. I then turn around and look for Jeff, because Harry had told me he was going to pick me up. I finally spot him with a sign that has my name on it, shake my head, and make my way towards him.

“Hey Jeffrey,” I say as I get to where he is standing. “Any chance my boyfriend is in the car that is waiting for us?”

“Hi Y/N,” he says with an eye roll, “Nice to see you too. I’ve been great, thanks for asking.”

“Oh sorry Jeffey. How are you? Are you enjoying Australia? It’s so nice to see you. Now, is my boyfriend in that car?”

“Since you were rude, you’ll just have to wait. Here, I can take your suitcases,” he says as he grabs the handles from me.

“Jeff, if Glenne was waiting in the car you would want to know,” I say to him as I trail behind him.

“Not going to work, Y/N. You’ll find out in approximately 50 feet,” he says with a roll of his eyes as he keeps walking ahead of me. I decide to give up and we walk in silence the rest of the way to the car. When we get to the car, I open up the boot for Jeff, and help him put my suitcases in, not noticing a familiar head of hair in the back seat. I walk around the car to get into the front, and notice Nyoh sitting there. I smile and wave at her, before opening the back door. As soon as I do I’m tackled by a body that yanks me into the car.

“Harry quit it!” I exclaim as I laugh while he peppers kisses all over my face. He plants one right on my lips, before pulling away.

“Were you surprised?”

“No, Jeff refusing to say anything gave it away,” I start as I settle into my seat, which was difficult because Harry still had his arms around me. “If you weren’t here he would have told me right away so that I was over it by the time we got in the car. I’ve been around long enough for your team to learn the ins and outs of my emotions,” I end with a laugh, and then realize I still haven't said hi to Nyoh. “Hey Nyoh, sorry it took me so long to acknowledge your presence. I was attacked as soon as I open the door,” I say, reaching around the back of the seat to give her a hug of sorts.

“No worries. I’m just glad you’re here now. He wouldn't stop talking about when you were getting here, and how excited you were when Sarah gave you the tickets. Hopefully you being here will make him bearable for the week,” she tells me with a laugh, and while Jeff and I laugh in response, Harry pouts next to me.

“Excuse me for being excited to see my girlfriend for the first time in a month. We haven’t even been able to call and talk that much because of the time difference,” he says, still pouting, as you pull up to the hotel everyone is staying at. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have 5 hours ‘til sound check, and I’m going to spend some quality time with my girlfriend,” he says as he opens the door, pulls me out of the car, and then circles around back to grab my suitcases out of the boot. He quickly leads me through the hotel and to the elevator, and tugs me inside, and immediately brings my body flush with his. “Now that we’re alone,” he whispers, before leaning down and kissing me. We kiss for a while before I have to pull away to breathe.

“H,” I breathe out, “Someone could see.”

“I don’t care. We’ve been separated for too long,” he says, before pulling me back into another mind numbing kiss. Before I have a chance to pull away again the elevator stops on our floor. “Okay, now I’ll take it somewhere private,” he says to me as he pulls me and my luggage out of the elevator. I giggle as he pulls me down the hallway to his hotel room, and laugh even harder when he smacks my ass as we enter the room.

“Harry!” I exclaim as he drops my suitcase handles, and simply tugs me to the bed, shoving me back onto it. He climbs onto the bed and hovers over me, trapping my body between his legs.

“Hi love,” he says, with a shit-eating grin on his face, and then starts to kiss down my neck.

“Hi Harry,” I say breathlessly.

“I missed you,” he says, pausing his trail down my chest and lifting his face to look at me.

“I missed you too Haz,” I say, and stretch my neck out to kiss him.

“Let me show you how much I missed you?” he asks when we pull away, and I just giggle and nod my head.

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“Good morning,” I hear a voice in my ear as I start to stir awake in the morning. I feel a smile grow on my face, and I blindly turn my face towards the voice. I hear him laugh, and then he kisses me, over and over again. After a few minutes I shove his face away from me, and lift my body up off the bed. I slide over to the edge of the bed, dragging the sheet with me, and stand up, moving towards the shower.

“Well,” I say, the first word I’ve said all morning, “are you going to come join me in the shower?” and then drop the towel. Harry laughs, and jumps out of bed and runs towards me, and then shoves us both in the direction of the bathroom.

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I’m sitting on the floor in front of the floor length mirror, applying eyeshadow when Harry walks in from the bathroom, after his actual shower that he took after our… shenanigans, in the shower, where he helped wash my hair and body afterwards, before claiming I had to get out or we would have to do the whole thing all over again.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sitting down behind me and wrapping his legs around my body, as I use my finger to smear color over my eyelid.

“The same thing I always do when I do my makeup,” I say with a laugh. “I don't like using brushes for eyeshadow, so I just use my finger. You’ve seen me do my makeup before,” I say with a laugh.

“Yeah, but never this close. And usually I was getting dressed when you were doing it,” he says, and then leans his head down to kiss my neck, right where he had left a bruise the night before.

“Harry, I’m almost done,” I say with a laugh, and shove him away.

“Good. I’ll stop when you’re done. Might want to be quick or you’ll end up with another one of these before we leave,” he says, and then chuckles into my skin.

“Okay, I’m done,” I say about a minute later, and then scoot forward a little in order to stand up. As I stand, Harry, ever the cheeky boy, smacks my ass and then stands up behind me.

“Get your shoes on, I want to get coffee before we go to the venue,” he says, and I turn and kiss him before walking over to where my shoes are.

“You don’t want coffee,” I say with a laugh. “You just know how to keep me happy.” I slip my shoes on and then go to stand in front of the mirror again. “Okay, wait. I have to put a turtleneck under this before we go anywhere,” I tell him, and then slip over to my suitcase, and grab my black turtleneck. I take off my oversized-T, and throw on the turtleneck, and then put the t-shirt back on. “Okay, ready. But can we take a picture in the mirror first?” I ask him, and he throws his head back in a laugh, before mumbling a yes. I grab his arm to wrap around my waist as we stand in front of the mirror and take a picture. I then shove him away and take a picture of myself, to document my outfit for future reference. After I do that, we head out the door, and Jeff meets us by the elevators.

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“And we’re here,” Harry says as the car pulls into the venue in Auckland.

“It’s so big,” I say as we get out of the car and I look up at the venue we’re about to enter. Harry laughs and pulls me closer.

“You said the same thing about something else earlier,” he whispers in my ear, and I scoff, laugh, and push him away from me.

“Shut up,” I say laughing, and he just reaches out and grabs me again, pulling me into him. He kisses me on the forehead as we walk through the back entrance of the venue, and keeps his arm wrapped around my neck as we walk through. We walk through the venue and make it to his dressing room before too long. He pulls me in and shuts the door.

“So what do you think?” he asks as he pulls me to sit on the couch with him.

“Well, so far all I’ve seen is backstage babe. But it is very impressive,” I say, and then he pulls me onto his lap, and I wrap my arms around his neck. “Harry?”

“Yes darling?”

“I’m so proud of you. You’re such an amazing person, and you’re using your talents for good, getting out there and spreading kindness with every word. And you do it without taking more than a days break,” I say to him, my voice cracking and eyes watering the closer I get to the end of my sentence. I take a second to clear my throat and wipe at my eyes before continuing. “Every day I become even more thankful that you chose me to do this with you. I’m nothing special. I’m just a college student. I was just another fan that you happened to come across while she had a panic attack. It could’ve been anyone else.”

“No,” he states, interrupting me. “No. You are special. And it never could have been anyone else. Something put us in each others lives, because they, or it, knew that we belonged with each other. You are not nothing. You have become the sole reason that I get up in the morning. I love my fans, and I love performing for them, but I would give it all up if it was doing that or losing you. You are the love of my life, and I am so thankful that I came across you that day. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, H. I can’t imagine life without you.”

He leans down and kisses me, before pulling back and resting his head on top of mine. We sit in silence for a few minutes, until a knock comes to the door.

“H,” I hear from the other side, before Jeff opens it. “Sound check time. Let’s go.” Harry groans and kisses me one more time before getting up and heading out the door.

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“Do I have to go home now?” I ask as we pull up to the airport and see the plane that is waiting to take me back to America.

“Yes. Spring break is over,” Harry says, kissing me gently and then resting his forehead on mine.

“How many days until I get to see you again?”

“I don’t remember exactly. But your plane leaves the day after your last final. And there’s only like four or five weeks left. It’ll pass by before you know it,” he tells me, not letting go of me.

“I’ll call every night,” I say, looking up at him.

“I’ll answer every night. Now, I love you. Go get on your plane before I decide you can’t leave,” he says, and kisses me one more time before reaching behind me to open my door.

“I love you,” I say, not moving, and kissing him again. “Five weeks. I’ll see you in five weeks.”

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