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shdysders · 13 days

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dorothea

pairing: jenna ortega & female reader

summary: in which jenna left her small town to chase down hollywood dreams, that meant leaving you too.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: fully based on taylor swift’s song dorothea. lmk what u think!

Growing apart.

It was like a curse.

A curse that nobody could escape or prevent from happening. It happens to the best of people. Even to people that thought they'd be friends for an infinite amount of time.

It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are, what you want, and everything might be different from what your best friend want to do.

Although that wasn't the case for you and Jenna.

Like two peas in a pod, that's what family and friends would use to describe your friendship. You were always together and never apart.

Sleepovers every weekend and playdates for hours on days that were free. Shared birthday parties and same celebrity crushes. Same dreams for the future and same fears of dying or aging.

It wasn't shocking, really; you and Jenna were more alike than she was with her own siblings.

You sometimes found yourself wondering if Jenna ever stopped her busy lifestyle to think about you and what you used to be.

If she ever thought about the nights were you found yourself in each others rooms, pulling all nighters and gossiping about whatever til it was almost sunrise.

Laughing until your stomach's began hurting, which always ended up with your parents telling you guys to quiet down.

Or when you guys would run down to the park and play on the swings, whenever you had spent hours listening to your mom and dad fighting, sometimes even trying to joke about the things they had yelled. Making a lark of the misery.

When you guys would write your own scripts, for the movies you guys were going to direct when growing up, where you would be the stars.

Or when you would act them out, whether it was in recess at school, or in the middle of the night.

That was all memories now, just thoughts that would eventually come back to the surface of the mind, in a faded and distant manner.

Jenna had other people to relive those memories with now. Shiny new friends that she had managed to get since she left town, the small settlement were everybody knew everyone.

Everybody knew who Jenna was in the town where you grew up, but they knew who you were too. Now everyone in the whole world knew who Jenna was, and you remained being known in a petite village, nowhere else.

The only place you would see Jenna now was at a tiny screen in a cinema hall or in vogue magazines. It was where you and her had planned to be together. Supermodels in fancy clothes, like the clothes you would steal from her older sisters.

However, you had nothing but good and well wishes for her, you truly hoped that she was living her best life, and based on the articles and headlines you saw, it looked like she was.

Just because you weren't able to get the life you wished for didn't mean she couldn't have it, she wanted it too, and she deserved it, you knew that.

The town was the same as it ever was. Nothing had changed since Jenna left for other things, which she probably would've have liked.

Jenna had always wanted to just get away.

Away from the small town where you could barely have any secrets without everybody figuring it out.

Ever since you were six years old, you and Jenna had been making up a whole plan on how everything would go down. The plan of escaping to Hollywood.

How you would make it there after hours of trains and buses, and when you would arrive, everyone would know who you were, the second you stepped a foot into the town.

And even though Jenna already got that, without having to escape in secret and without anyone knowing. You hoped she knew that it would never be too late to come back to your side. Even after the way she left you.

Although you knew she wouldn't return home, especially not since you knew how her eyes looked when she was acting back when you were younger. All filled with stars of excitement and wonder, you could remember.

You didn't see that glow in her eyes anymore, not on social media nor in articles about interviews. She looked tired, tired from being known and always being in the spotlight, tried from being known for being in contact with other famous people.

And if she ever started to doubt her current friends; unsure if they were consorting with her because of her popularity or not, either that or if she was just overly tired of them, you hoped she was aware that she would always know you, if she wanted to.

Jenna was currently one of the most known actors in the whole wide world, people talked about her everywhere. She was like a queen, part of the royal family, but the 'none regal' kind.

She was selling dreams by just signing autographs, partnering with make up brands to sell products, being in the cover of magazines of all kinds, she was selling everything. And from her you'd buy anything.

Did she ever stop and think of you?

Did she ever think about the time you skipped half of the high school prom just to piss her mom off?

You remembered that night like it was yesterday. None of you had dates for the night, and eventually you guys got bored of all the dancing and seeing couples kissing, so you ran off, making her mother go absolute insane; she was all for the proms and pageant schemes.

Jenna also loved dressing up and playing with clothes, you always used to do that when you were having play dates as kids, and embarrassingly enough it happened a few times while you were older as well.

Now Jenna was dressing up in fancy clothes for what it seemed like every week, cameras constantly flashing onto her for perfect pictures, people screaming for her attention.

Everybody wanted to be her. Everybody wanted to be Jenna Ortega.

Even your friends spoke about her and how they wanted to be a famous actor in Hollywood. However, you couldn't find yourself focusing on that.

All the thoughts that came to mind was if Jenna still had the same soul as the one you met under the bleachers.

It had been in the first day of first grade, when the teacher had been introducing the class to all of the rooms and halls.

And when it had been time for the gym area to be shown, you got scared of all the people and ran behind the bleachers to hide. By the time you'd gotten there, a brunette was already there.

She was shorter than you, her hair was the same length as yours, and eyes were darker. A friendship necklace was draped around her neck, and when you had asked her who the other half belonged to, she had replied that nobody had it, and that you could have it if you wanted to.

You would probably never find out if she was the same person with the same generous soul now, you weren't sure if she even remembered the time you first met, if she even remembered you at all.

She probably didn't remember the time you guys had your first kiss with each other. It was only practice for future reference and eventual middle school crushes, but it was still a great memory of yours.

Memories of her were something that fogged your mind at least once a week, but they probably didn't affect Jenna at all. She went on with the shows and interviews, not looking influenced at all.

But it was great. You loved watching Jenna fulfill her dreams, even though you never got a chance to be a part of them like it had been planned.

You hoped that she would eventually find her way back to you, because it would never be too late for that, although it might've felt like that some days.

Jenna was known over the whole world, but like you two had talked about in previous years, you knew the Hollywood life came with lots of stress and pressure. So you knew that was a struggle she was going through.

She would eventually grow tired of being famous, that's something you had thought multiple times, that she would eventually become tired of being known for knowing famous people. And if she ever did, you would be happy to tell her that she would always know you.

Your head would always perk up whenever Jenna's name was mentioned, you would always greet her family members if you saw them, you would think about her on her birthday, and pray that she would think of you on yours.

Jenna was still so unconditionally important to you, and you wanted nothing but the best for her.

She would always know you, if she wanted to.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #mabel x reader #melissa barrera x reader

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katiexpunk · 4 months

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To Protect & Serve, Part 1 | Pairing officer!Joel Miller X fem!Reader

Series Summary: You're a small-town reporter, living a life dedicated solely to your work and the relentless pursuit of truth. It's all pretty routine, almost too easy, albeit exhausting. Little did you know that the one thing you could never have predicted was the arrival of Officer Joel Miller. Suddenly, your story takes an unexpected turn, writing itself in ways you could have only dreamt of as he shows you what it really means to protect and serve. Part 1 Summary: You spent all day in the newsroom again, only to wake up at midnight. Your drive home is anything but smooth. You end up on the side of the road, freezing and wet from the relentless rain, struggling to change your tire. You're about to give up hope, that is until Officer Joel Miller shows up to assist. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: ~5.1K Part 1 Warnings: Sexual tension, sexual tension, sexual tension. Honestly, you should just expect that from me at this point (Katie Core Slow Burn™). Set in 1994 because I said so. Reader has no major physical descriptions. Joel is literally a cop in this -- so typical cop references (guns, badges, uniforms, bulletproof vests, radios, a Crown Vic cruiser, etc.). Reader has a Nokia brick phone. Reader is a reporter, so heavy on the news and reporter references (her story and what she is investigating will come in future parts). Sarah is alive and well in this and is into art. Reader has a bad day. Blown tire. Rain. Bad luck. Competency kink. Uniform kink. Bad dad jokes. Flirting. Joel and reader share a piece of cherry pie. Officer Joel Miller is a gentleman. Authors Note: Happy 2024! My first fic of the year. Minimally edited, sorry if there are typos. This series will eventually be VERY heavy on the smut, and on back story, and will slowly build up the world they both live in. You're in this one for the long haul with me, babes. Buckle up -- it's the law. ;)

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

January 1994

You blink your eyes open and groan, the aroma of stale coffee and the faint hint of ink lingers in your nostrils.

Your desk is strewn with stacks of notes, crumpled papers, and empty takeout cartons that bare the remnants of hurried meals consumed during your relentless pursuit of the truth.

Crime surely doesn’t stop for a proper lunch break, so why should you? It was your resolution this year to pack more healthy lunches, but here you are – not even three weeks into the New Year and already knee-deep in Pad Thai.

The soft glow from your desk lamp highlights the fatigue etched on your face as you rub your tired eyes. You check the strappy black watch on your wrist – just past midnight.

Another night of burning the midnight oil.

You stare at the computer screen, and the blinking cursor patiently waiting for you to pick up where you left off. You consider staying another hour, but think twice of it; sure that the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain on the windows in the newsroom would soothe you like a lullaby and you’d end up spending an all nighter in the newsroom. Again.

With a sigh, you gather the papers that have collected on your desk in masses as of late and stuff them into your briefcase in no real order. You know they’ll just end up fanned out on your desk tomorrow morning, anyway. You turn off the computer, and an audible mechanic sound of it powering down gives the impression that it’s grateful for the much-needed break as you are.

As you grab your coat and make your way to the exit, the newsroom seems to exhale, settling into a peaceful calm. The door behind you slams closed, and the distant echo of thunder snaps at the same time, causing you to jump a little at the sound. You really should lay off the caffeine. Navigating the dimly lit hallway, you reach the elevator, its soft chime signaling your descent to ground level. Each step feels heavy, your body pleading for rest.

Once in the elevator it hits you that you don’t have an umbrella.

Shit.

++++

You sprint to your silver sedan as fast as you can in the loafers you chose for the day. Cute and comfy enough, but not exactly ideal to relive your glory days on the track team. By the time you get to your car, you’re out of breath and soaked, your makeshift umbrella with your coat barely sparing you from the rain.

You slide into the worn driver's seat, and the familiar scent of aged leather and cigarette smoke surrounds you as you turn the key in the ignition, and the engine roars to life. You blast the air, but turn it off once you realize how cold it is. You decide to wait until the car is warmed up, not wanting to turn into a popsicle in your wet blouse.

You sit in the parking lot for what feels like an hour, holding your hands under your armpits for warmth, before deciding the engine is warm enough to turn the heat back on. You place one hand behind the passenger seat headrest and look over your shoulder as you pull out of the parking lot.

The rain continues to cascade down, and your shitty windshield wipers struggle to keep up, giving a deafening squeak with each pass across the glass. Annoyed, you turn the radio dial up just enough to drown out the sound of the whirring blades with Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.

You try to focus on the poorly lit road ahead of you, the dashed white lines blurring behind the wall of water on your windshield as the downpour intensifies. Water congregates in small pools on the edges of the weathered road, occasionally splashing all the way up on the sides of the car, and under the tire wells.

A knot tightens in your stomach as the road becomes a murky blur, adding a layer of stress you most definitely don’t need right now. It’s nights like tonight that you wish you had actually gotten new tires, like you have meant to for the past four – okay, six – months. Your bald tires are barely hanging on like a thread. It’s really only a matter of time before –

Suddenly, a deafening pop echos through the car, startling you. The steering wheel transforms into a wild animal, one you struggle to wrangle back into submission. You grab the leather steering wheel with a death grip, and steer into the skid and pump your brakes, eventually managing to bring the car to a safe stop on the side of the road.

Your eyes fall closed as soon as the car is totally still. You lean back into the leather headrest and try to recenter yourself, level out the adrenaline pulsing through your veins. You silently kick yourself. Oh, they’ll be fine. I just drive to work and back, you reasoned with yourself, the guys at the shop are probably trying to get you to buy new tires before you even need them. Some shit-grinning, mansplaining mechanic sounds good right about now.

You reach into your briefcase for your Nokia, patting around the mix of papers for the device, but it’s nowhere to be found.

As if this night couldn’t get any worse.

Oh wait, it can. You’re at least three miles from anything. Most of the time you don’t mind living in a small town, but with the way tonight is going, you swear you’re gonna move East to some big city, live out your days with people on every corner, nary a cow or an empty road in sight.

But for right now, you’re on your own.

You’ve changed a tire before, sure. It was one of the first things your dad insisted you know how to do before getting your license. “If you’re gonna drive a vehicle, you gotta know how to take care of it, sweet pea,” he said. God, you hate it when he’s right.

Already drenched, you decide to lean into it, this time fully zipping up your coat for warmth, knowing it’s not going to really do much, but it’s better than nothing. You brace for impact as you open the car door and assess the damage – the back passenger side tire is shredded, and the vehicle leans at an awkward slant from the missing support.

You open the trunk and struggle to retrieve the spare tire, wiggling it out by the base. You roll it over to the blown tire and grab the rest of the necessary tools neatly packaged in a workbag.

As you work in the pouring rain, a chill seeping deep into your bones, you struggle to loosen one of the lug nuts. Your frustration only grows from the wet wrench that keeps slipping out of your hands. “Oh comeeeee on, you bastard,” you yell at the bolt, hoping it might somehow understand and decide to loosen. You pause, your breaths a little short and your fingers sore from your bruising grip. You give it one more go, letting out a loud groan as you put all of your strength into twisting the bolt to loosen it, but it’s a futile effort.

“Fuck!” you scream out, your hair tacked to your face, your knees and shins now muddy, your entire outfit drenched. You drop the wrench in your palms, and replace it with your forehead. You’re beginning to cry, when out of the peripheral of your vision, you see it – the flashing lights of a cop car rolling up behind your vehicle.

The beam of the headlights slightly blinds you as you watch a tall, broad man step out of the vehicle. You can’t really see his face, only his silhouette, but you feel your body warm by an entire degree when his voice, low and smooth, calls out.

“Having some car trouble here, ma’am?” he inquiries, a blend of professionalism and concern behind his tone. You blink up at him through wet lashes and watch as he strides closer to you. His heavy boots hit the pavement with a thud, and the raindrops bounce off the greased tops of them.

You scan him from the ground up; his fitted uniform pants, a duty belt with several accessories pinned to it, most notably the firearm holstered on his right hip; a bulletproof vest affixed tightly to his frame, a little bit of belly poking out between his belt and the edge of the vest. He’s clad in a warm puffy coat that seems to repeal the water still barreling down on the pair of you.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you scan past his badge, catching a glimpse of his nameplate that’s partially covered by his jacket. You continue up his firm neck, over the thin line of his lips, his aquiline nose, and pause once your gaze meets his. And whoa.

Even in the dark and the rain, you can tell he is dangerously handsome, which is saying something given his profession. His beard is threaded with lines of silver, and neatly kept. His skin is a little sun-weathered, but it gives him a warm look to him, one that you’d love nothing more than to dive into like a pool right about now. He has bold, deep brown eyes, ones that convey a mix of softness and a no nonsense demeanor. He has a commanding presence but somehow feels safe.

Still kneeling on the ground, you reflexively wrap your arms around your own body in an attempt to get warm. You’re positive you must look like a sad wet stray, all puppy dog eyes begging for help; helpless and alone.

“My u–uh, my, my tire blew out,” you stammer, your teeth clacking against one another as your whole body shakes. At least when you were dueling with the lug nut, you didn’t have to think about how cold you actually are right now. “Forgot phone, umbrella – bolt not loosening,” you try to continue, but your words aren’t really making much sense, too caught up in your body’s response to the frigid air. “Jesus, sweetheart. Gonna catch your death out here all wet like this. Come here, let me help you up,” he says as he offers you his large palm. You place yours into it and rise to stand, and even though his hands are just as exposed as yours, he radiates heat.

You sigh in relief as he guides you to the passenger side of his cruiser. He opens the door and encourages you inside, “watch your head now,” he cautions, as you sink down into the vinyl seat.

Water pools onto the floor beneath and you squeeze your own frame and try to ignore the sting of your cold appendages and your numb toes. He leans across you to turn the heat all the way up and he tilts the vents to face you. With him this close, you pick up the faint smell of coffee and spearmint gum. As he backs away, his eyes catch yours, and you don’t miss the way they flicker to your lips for a brief moment.

“Stay here,” he commands, before he’s rounding around to his trunk to grab something.

He returns with an oversized black sweater, a badge embroidered onto the breast of it. It’s a little damp from the short walk from the trunk back to your door, but certainly drier than any part of you. He also has a small towel in hand.

“Here, this should help you warm up a bit,” he says, and you greedily accept them. “I’ll see what I can do about that tire of yours” he offers, “can I have your keys, please?” he asks, and you reach into your pocket and hand them over to him. Before you can get in a word of thanks, the corner his lip lifts in a small smile and he’s nods before he shuts the passenger door and walks over to your car.

You hastily swap out your jacket and your damp blouse for the sweater and melt into the thick wool fibers of it, grateful for even the little bit of reprieve, even if the fabric is a little scratchy. You use the small towel to scrunch some of the water from your hair, dry your face, and clear the mud from your legs. Your bottom half is still drenched, but it’s considerably better than before.

With the hot air of the heater blasting on high, your skin slowly starts to warm and the goosebumps that once littered your body begin to recede. Now able to focus, you take in your surroundings.

There’s a thermos of what you can assume is coffee given the aroma in the car in the drivers side door. A blinking radio, mounted to the center of the dash, sits adjacent to the microphone next to it. To your back, the middle of the car is split with a cage, the back of the car looks cold and hard. There’s a series of switches next to the gear shift, the lights and sirens you assume. A lone chocolate Hostess cupcake sits in the center console cup holder, next to a pack of spearmint gum. Called it.

You bring your attention back to the windshield, watching the officer engage in the same battle you did with the wrench. You haven’t seen his arms, but given the general size of him, you wager he’s probably pretty fit, and yet – he struggles.

You’re not trying to stare, not really, but there’s something endearing about watching a man at work, not at all bothered by the fuss or annoyance around him, and if he is, he doesn’t show it. As he’s working with it, there’s another crack of thunder that causes you to jump, and the night sky illuminates with the strong strike of lightening for a brief moment.

You watch as he works at it for a few moments longer, before he himself eventually decides to give up. He makes quick work of putting everything back into the trunk of your car, and locks your doors before he does a little sprint back to the drivers side of his cruiser.

Once inside the car, he cards his fingers through his now soaking hair. He’s nearly as wet as you were, but he certainly wears it better than you, you think. You hand him the damp hand towel and he uses it to wipe off his hands.

“Sorry Darlin’, the bolts are on there pretty good. Couldn’t even get it to budge. Think you’re gonna have to call for a tow,” he says, his voice thick like honey.

“Ugh, I thought so. Thank you so much for trying, Officer –” you trail off, granting him the space to give you his name.

“Miller,” he adds, “at your service, ma’am” he concludes with a smile. He extends his large palm to you for the second time tonight. You return his kindness by extending yours and offering him your name. He holds it for a beat second longer than etiquette would say to, only breaking the grip once his attention navigates to the sight of you in his sweater.

He thinks about flirting with you, saying something along the lines of him having to cite you for looking too cute like this, but he thinks twice about it. He’s good at a lot of things, but his flirting is well out of practice. Instead, he says –

“You hungry? There’s this little cafe not too far from here – Jo, JoJo somethin’ or other,” he asks. You look at him and can’t help the little smile that curls on your lips.

“Joe’s Cafe,” you say, helping him out. He must be new here.

“That’s the one,” he says, snapping his fingers. “Hear they have the best cherry pie in the whole state, I’ve been meaning to check it out since I moved here. Beats waiting here in the rain for the tow,” he adds, trying to play it cool, but he thinks you might notice the eagerness in his voice anyway.

“Officer Miller, you’re really kind, but I’m sure you have better things to do than sit in a diner and keep me company while I wait for a tow,” you add. Your words don’t reflect it, but deep down you secretly hope he pushes further.

“Who said anything about me keeping you company? I gotta date with that pie, baby. Was on my way there when I ran into you. You’re just along for the ride,” he says with a confident wink. Okay, maybe he’s not totally out of practice.

“Oh great, a third wheel to a slice of a pie. Talk about a cherry on top of my night,” you say, a teasing tone behind your voice, a little too proud of your terrible joke, a little flustered by the fact that he called you baby.

He looks at you with a wide smile and shakes his head as he pulls out from behind your car, the wet gravel crunching under the tires as he does. You watch it disappear in the passenger side mirror.

“Names Joel,” by the way, he says, shifting his eyes from the road to glance at you.

“Joel,” you whisper, and the way his name rolls off your tongue is easy.

A little too easy. Warm and sweet, like the last bite of a cinnamon roll.

++++

On your way to the diner, you ask Joel to borrow his cell phone so you can call for a tow. The man on the other line sounds half awake when he answers, “Yeah? Ray’s Towing,” he says, a curt tone behind his voice. You tell him you need a tow, and Joel confidently tells you the mile marker your vehicle is parked closest to, and you relay it over the line to who you can only assume is Ray himself.

“You’re clear across town, not gonna be able to make it out to you tonight. Can swing by to pick it up in the morning, though,” he says. You try to protest, but it’s a pointless fight, you can already tell he’s not going to budge.

In the middle of your negotiation, Joel pulls up to the cafe and kills the engine as he waits for you to finish up. You notice the small crease in between his brows, now clearly visible under the illumination of the 24/7 red neon sign that hangs in the window. You don’t notice it right away, but the rain has eased up, now only coming down in a light mist. “Okay. Tomorrow then. Mile Marker 181, it’s a Silver Sedan – you can’t miss it. Tow it to Tess’ place, and I’ll meet you there,” you tell him. The man gives a gruff grunt of agreement, “8am,” he says, hanging up before you can get another word in.

You drop the phone from your ear, staring at it, slightly in disbelief. You look back at Joel, and hand the heavy brick back to him.

“He’s not gonna pick it up tonight, won’t come till tomorrow morning,” you say, and Joel senses the hint of concern behind your voice. “I don’t know how i’m gonna get to work tomorrow,” he says.

“I can take you,” he offers, a sincerity behind his voice.

“Joel, I can’t – that’s too much, no,” you respond, shaking your head side to side as you do.

“No really, it’s not a problem. My shift starts at 9, I can take you there on my way to the station,” he offers casually, reassuring; like this isn’t the second time he’s saved your ass and you’ve only known him for less than an hour.

You stare back at him, and you can tell from the way he looks at you, that he’s not going to take no for an answer.

“If you’re sure, then,” you say, a questioning tone behind your voice.

“‘M sure,” he responds confidently. “Now c’mon, don’t want my date to think I’m late,” he jokes and you let out a genuine laugh for what feels like the first time in a long time.

“Can’t have that,” you retort. You go to pull the handle on your door, but Joel stops you. “I got it,” he says, opening his and quickly maneuvering around the front of the car to your door, pulling it open for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you tell him. You attempt to compose yourself – trying not to think too hard about the fact that you must look like a hot mess right now – as you follow Joel to the entrance. He opens the door for you, because of course, he does.

“After you, darlin’,” he says.

++++

The soft hum of the cafe’s neon lights casts a warm glow on the worn checkered tablecloth as you sit in the booth across from one another. The waitress doesn’t even bother to ask, she can tell from one look that you’re both in desperate need of something warm to drink.

“Decaf or regular” she says, setting the mugs down on the table. “Decaf,” you and Joel both say at the same time. She fills filling them both with a long stream of hot black liquid from the carafe with the orange handle before she turns around to place the pot on the table behind her.

“You ready to order,” she asks, pulling the pen from behind her ear, steadying it over pad.

“Well I think we’re still waiting on one more,” you start to joke, your eyes locked on Joels as you lift the ceramic mug to your lips in an attempt to hide your smile. A warmth creeps up on your face as he gives you a stern look.

“Don’t listen to her,” he tells the waitress, “we’ll take a piece of cherry pie, please.”

“Mhmm,” the waitress nods, annoyed that she even took out her pen in the first place for such a small order. “That all?”

“And a side of vanilla ice cream,” you pipe up.

“Got it,” she says, before walking away, leaving you and Joel alone in the booth. Given the hour, you’re the only ones in the restaurant apart from the waitress and the chef in the back.

“Ice cream?” he asks, one of his eyebrows raised. “You were just freezing like 20 minutes ago,” he says, confused. He fidgets with the spoon that rests on the white paper napkin as he waits for you to respond. You wonder if you make him nervous.

“Yeah, vanilla ice cream. It’s a must with this pie,” you say, reaching across the table for the sugar. You rip it open and pour in the contents of the pink packet into the mug and stir, “especially for your first time…trust me,” you conclude, letting out a satisfied hum at the sweet black liquid that warms your insides.

“I trust you,” he says with a smile, his eyes trained on your face. Finally seeing him under normal lighting conditions permits you to notice the flecks of amber around his irises, but that’s not the only thing you notice. A heat swirls in your belly, and not just from the coffee, once you see the single dimple on his right cheek.

“So tell me, Joel, where are you from? Cuz you’re certainly not from around here,” you ask.

“What makes you say that?” he asks, leaning into your playful tone, nursing his own coffee.

“Well, for starters, you didn’t know the name of this place, and it’s like an institution in these parts. And to top it off, I’ve lived here my whole life. You can’t have been here long or I’m sure we would have met,” you say, a confident tone behind your voice, like it’s a matter of fact.

“That so? Why’s that?” he asks, not denying any of your initial assessment.

“I’m a reporter for the Tribune. It’s my job to know things, to know people, especially hot mystery cops who like to fix tires in the rain for random women on the side of the road,” you say.

“You think I’m hot?” He asks, a blush to his cheeks. And shit. Freudian slip.

“No, that’s no – that’s not, I mean, you are hot, but that’s not what I,” but before you can continue, you’re interrupted by the waitress placing a rather large piece of cherry pie in the middle of the table.

“‘S alright, Darlin.’ You think I’m hot, you can admit it,” he says, grabbing the spoon, dipping it into the thick red mess of cherry and crust, the colors diluting to pink with the melt of the vanilla ice cream.

He takes a big bite, and groans in delight, letting his eyes close as he savors the taste. “‘Sides, you’re not wrong. I haven’t been here for long. Just got here last month, moved here from Austin,” he says, already digging in for a second bite by the time you’re going for your first.

You look at him intently, patiently, waiting for him to continue in between bites, “My daughter, Sarah, got accepted into a young artists program here. ‘S all she talks about. And well, I was able to make a lateral transfer to this station from Austin, so it was a no-brainer, really,” he says.

“How old’s your daughter?” you ask, your spoon dancing with his for the sweet goodness for a second as you do.

“14 going on 25,” he jokes, “keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. Keep hoping she won’t start bringing boys around for another, oh I don’t know, 15 years or so, but I feel like that’s a battle ‘m set to lose,” he sighs, as he takes the second to last bite of pie, pushing the plate to you, his eyes telling you that the last bite is all yours.

You can’t help but smile at the thought of Joel, a man who faces more frightening things daily, nervous for his teenage daughter to go on a date. You scoop up the final bite of pie and swallow it. You keep the spoon in your mouth, running the cool metal of it over your tongue, relishing in the way Joel can't seem to look at anything but the way it moves over your plush lips.

“What about you then? Did you always want to be a reporter?” he asks, finishing off the rest of his coffee.

“Since I was a little girl,” you admit. "I used to eavesdrop on conversations at family gatherings, sneakily flip through my parents' old photo albums, imagining the tales behind each photo" you continue, your eyes flickering with a spark of that same childlike curiosity you had then. "And I had this little notepad where I'd jot down my observations, like a tiny detective with a pen and paper."

Joel Chuckles, "Sounds like you were a reporter-in-training from the start."

You nod, a soft laughter escaping you. "I suppose you could say that. I loved the idea of bringing untold stories to light, giving voices to the unheard. It felt like a calling even before I fully understood what it meant,” you conclude, running the pad of your finger over your now empty coffee cup. Transfixed, Joel watches the simple movement. And once again, the waitress with her impeccably terrible timing, interrupts once again, stopping Joel before he can continue with his questions. You immediately dart your hand out to grab the bill, and he does the same, but you are faster. His heavy palm lands on top of yours, and your eyes lock in charged silence. "Officer Miller, you've been a real help. Seriously, let me cover this one. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me tonight," you insist, your gratitude evident in your voice.

"It's just Joel, darlin'," he replies, releasing your hand to allow you to grab the bill. "And thank you," he adds, a sincerity laced behind his words.

With a decisive motion, you throw a twenty on the table, checking the time. "Getting late -- I should probably head home," you say, and Joel nods in agreement. However, inexplicably, you both linger, anchored to your seats. It's as if the sensible part of your brain urges departure, yet your bodies resist the inevitable parting. The cafe's ambiance seems to cocoon you both in a lingering warmth, the afterglow of the moment refusing to dissipate.

Joel stands up first, and you follow suit. His large hand finds the small of your back, and he guides you back to his cruiser. He opens the passenger for you again, but this time he doesn’t tell you to watch your head, you already know. You give him your address, and you both ride in comfortable silence.

Joel pulls up into your driveway, the engine purrs softly before falling silent. You both pause in silence. He turns to you, a smirk on his lips “We’re here,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of I don’t want to say goodbye yet behind it.

He walks you to your front door. The tension in the air is palpable as you both stand there, both of your bodies buzzing in arousal. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a simple white business card, and hands it to you. You look down and see the words Officer Joel Miller printed on it in dull black ink, his badge number and phone number under it. There's an emboss of a police badge to the right of the text, giving your thumbs something pleasant to glide over.

“You know, I’m not sure driving reporters around is part of the oath to protect and serve,” you say.

“Means a lot more than you might think, Darlin’,” he responds.

You fiddle with the paper card in your hand, before offering him a kind smile.

“See you tomorrow, then,” you say sweetly, before pressing the door open.

“Tomorrow,” he nods before heading back down your porch.

Closing the door behind you, you lean your back against it, feeling the solid support. A smile, blooms on your face, radiating a joy that mirrors the first buds of spring. It’s been so long since you’ve felt an excitement about something that wasn’t work.

As Joel walks back to his cruiser, he too, can’t help the cheesy grin that washes across his face.

He likes to think of himself as an intuitive man. It’s part of what makes him a good cop, and part of what he thinks will make him an excellent detective one day.

And if there’s one thing he can tell for certain right now is that you’re going to be trouble – lots and lots of trouble.

And fuck, he hopes you are.

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags: @endlessthxxghts @sydneyinacoma @javipispunk @pedrostories @meabhogr @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @dugiioh @nervoushottee @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @brittmb115 @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @morallyinept @tobesolovelysstuff @notsosecretspy @alokaerza @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @morgaussy @missladym1981 @magpiepillsjunior @noneofmyshipsarereal

As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). I'll still be using my tag list for now, but I just started a notifs blog, so will be transitioning to that eventually. Please follow @katiexpunkupdates to get notified when I post fics.xx

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller series #officer!Joel Miller #joel miller #uniform kink #competency kink #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

Text

The real AI fight

Tonight (November 27), I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

Last week's spectacular OpenAI soap-opera hijacked the attention of millions of normal, productive people and nonsensually crammed them full of the fine details of the debate between "Effective Altruism" (doomers) and "Effective Accelerationism" (AKA e/acc), a genuinely absurd debate that was allegedly at the center of the drama.

Very broadly speaking: the Effective Altruists are doomers, who believe that Large Language Models (AKA "spicy autocomplete") will someday become so advanced that it could wake up and annihilate or enslave the human race. To prevent this, we need to employ "AI Safety" – measures that will turn superintelligence into a servant or a partner, nor an adversary.

Contrast this with the Effective Accelerationists, who also believe that LLMs will someday become superintelligences with the potential to annihilate or enslave humanity – but they nevertheless advocate for faster AI development, with fewer "safety" measures, in order to produce an "upward spiral" in the "techno-capital machine."

Once-and-future OpenAI CEO Altman is said to be an accelerationists who was forced out of the company by the Altruists, who were subsequently bested, ousted, and replaced by Larry fucking Summers. This, we're told, is the ideological battle over AI: should cautiously progress our LLMs into superintelligences with safety in mind, or go full speed ahead and trust to market forces to tame and harness the superintelligences to come?

This "AI debate" is pretty stupid, proceeding as it does from the foregone conclusion that adding compute power and data to the next-word-predictor program will eventually create a conscious being, which will then inevitably become a superbeing. This is a proposition akin to the idea that if we keep breeding faster and faster horses, we'll get a locomotive:

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

As Molly White writes, this isn't much of a debate. The "two sides" of this debate are as similar as Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Yes, they're arrayed against each other in battle, so furious with each other that they're tearing their hair out. But for people who don't take any of this mystical nonsense about spontaneous consciousness arising from applied statistics seriously, these two sides are nearly indistinguishable, sharing as they do this extremely weird belief. The fact that they've split into warring factions on its particulars is less important than their unified belief in the certain coming of the paperclip-maximizing apocalypse:

https://newsletter.mollywhite.net/p/effective-obfuscation

White points out that there's another, much more distinct side in this AI debate – as different and distant from Dee and Dum as a Beamish Boy and a Jabberwork. This is the side of AI Ethics – the side that worries about "today’s issues of ghost labor, algorithmic bias, and erosion of the rights of artists and others." As White says, shifting the debate to existential risk from a future, hypothetical superintelligence "is incredibly convenient for the powerful individuals and companies who stand to profit from AI."

After all, both sides plan to make money selling AI tools to corporations, whose track record in deploying algorithmic "decision support" systems and other AI-based automation is pretty poor – like the claims-evaluation engine that Cigna uses to deny insurance claims:

https://www.propublica.org/article/cigna-pxdx-medical-health-insurance-rejection-claims

On a graph that plots the various positions on AI, the two groups of weirdos who disagree about how to create the inevitable superintelligence are effectively standing on the same spot, and the people who worry about the actual way that AI harms actual people right now are about a million miles away from that spot.

There's that old programmer joke, "There are 10 kinds of people, those who understand binary and those who don't." But of course, that joke could just as well be, "There are 10 kinds of people, those who understand ternary, those who understand binary, and those who don't understand either":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/11/the-ten-types-of-people/

What's more, the joke could be, "there are 10 kinds of people, those who understand hexadecenary, those who understand pentadecenary, those who understand tetradecenary [und so weiter] those who understand ternary, those who understand binary, and those who don't." That is to say, a "polarized" debate often has people who hold positions so far from the ones everyone is talking about that those belligerents' concerns are basically indistinguishable from one another.

The act of identifying these distant positions is a radical opening up of possibilities. Take the indigenous philosopher chief Red Jacket's response to the Christian missionaries who sought permission to proselytize to Red Jacket's people:

https://historymatters.gmu.edu/d/5790/

Red Jacket's whole rebuttal is a superb dunk, but it gets especially interesting where he points to the sectarian differences among Christians as evidence against the missionary's claim to having a single true faith, and in favor of the idea that his own people's traditional faith could be co-equal among Christian doctrines.

The split that White identifies isn't a split about whether AI tools can be useful. Plenty of us AI skeptics are happy to stipulate that there are good uses for AI. For example, I'm 100% in favor of the Human Rights Data Analysis Group using an LLM to classify and extract information from the Innocence Project New Orleans' wrongful conviction case files:

https://hrdag.org/tech-notes/large-language-models-IPNO.html

Automating "extracting officer information from documents – specifically, the officer's name and the role the officer played in the wrongful conviction" was a key step to freeing innocent people from prison, and an LLM allowed HRDAG – a tiny, cash-strapped, excellent nonprofit – to make a giant leap forward in a vital project. I'm a donor to HRDAG and you should donate to them too:

https://hrdag.networkforgood.com/

Good data-analysis is key to addressing many of our thorniest, most pressing problems. As Ben Goldacre recounts in his inaugural Oxford lecture, it is both possible and desirable to build ethical, privacy-preserving systems for analyzing the most sensitive personal data (NHS patient records) that yield scores of solid, ground-breaking medical and scientific insights:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-eaV8SWdjQ

The difference between this kind of work – HRDAG's exoneration work and Goldacre's medical research – and the approach that OpenAI and its competitors take boils down to how they treat humans. The former treats all humans as worthy of respect and consideration. The latter treats humans as instruments – for profit in the short term, and for creating a hypothetical superintelligence in the (very) long term.

As Terry Pratchett's Granny Weatherwax reminds us, this is the root of all sin: "sin is when you treat people like things":

https://brer-powerofbabel.blogspot.com/2009/02/granny-weatherwax-on-sin-favorite.html

So much of the criticism of AI misses this distinction – instead, this criticism starts by accepting the self-serving marketing claim of the "AI safety" crowd – that their software is on the verge of becoming self-aware, and is thus valuable, a good investment, and a good product to purchase. This is Lee Vinsel's "Criti-Hype": "taking press releases from startups and covering them with hellscapes":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

Criti-hype and AI were made for each other. Emily M Bender is a tireless cataloger of criti-hypeists, like the newspaper reporters who breathlessly repeat " completely unsubstantiated claims (marketing)…sourced to Altman":

https://dair-community.social/@emilymbender/111464030855880383

Bender, like White, is at pains to point out that the real debate isn't doomers vs accelerationists. That's just "billionaires throwing money at the hope of bringing about the speculative fiction stories they grew up reading – and philosophers and others feeling important by dressing these same silly ideas up in fancy words":

https://dair-community.social/@emilymbender/111464024432217299

All of this is just a distraction from real and important scientific questions about how (and whether) to make automation tools that steer clear of Granny Weatherwax's sin of "treating people like things." Bender – a computational linguist – isn't a reactionary who hates automation for its own sake. On Mystery AI Hype Theater 3000 – the excellent podcast she co-hosts with Alex Hanna – there is a machine-generated transcript:

https://www.buzzsprout.com/2126417

There is a serious, meaty debate to be had about the costs and possibilities of different forms of automation. But the superintelligence true-believers and their criti-hyping critics keep dragging us away from these important questions and into fanciful and pointless discussions of whether and how to appease the godlike computers we will create when we disassemble the solar system and turn it into computronium.

The question of machine intelligence isn't intrinsically unserious. As a materialist, I believe that whatever makes me "me" is the result of the physics and chemistry of processes inside and around my body. My disbelief in the existence of a soul means that I'm prepared to think that it might be possible for something made by humans to replicate something like whatever process makes me "me."

Ironically, the AI doomers and accelerationists claim that they, too, are materialists – and that's why they're so consumed with the idea of machine superintelligence. But it's precisely because I'm a materialist that I understand these hypotheticals about self-aware software are less important and less urgent than the material lives of people today.

It's because I'm a materialist that my primary concerns about AI are things like the climate impact of AI data-centers and the human impact of biased, opaque, incompetent and unfit algorithmic systems – not science fiction-inspired, self-induced panics over the human race being enslaved by our robot overlords.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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thestitchywitchy · 1 year

Text

Future Spouse: First Impressions Pt. II

PART 1 HERE

Hey all! By popular vote, here is the the second part to the Future Spouse: First Impressions 😊 this one is going to be your first impression of them. Hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback 💜

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To book a reading with me, please DM or send an email to [email protected] with your inquiry 💌

My Links <- 🔮please support your witch💕 -> Masterlist

Please donate if you’re able to 🙏

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Here we go! Shake it out, take a breath, close your eyes, and choose an animated couple that calls out most to you. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you feel inclined to choose more than one group, please feel free to do so.

***Disclaimer: these readings are for entertainment purposes only.***

Pictures from Pinterest, editing done by me.

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Pile One - Linguini & Colette

The Sun, The Devil, Queen of Swords

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading! Your initial impression of your future spouse is that they come off as complex, with many hidden layers. Your FS is highly energetic, optimistic, and charismatic. You will be swept away by their charm. They may have a magnetic personality and make others feel comfortable and at ease around them. Something about their smile just warms you down to your core. You can’t help but be intrigued by them. They exude positivity and warmth, and their presence can be uplifting and inspiring. But I do see you having a moment of doubt. Like, “ is this too good to be true? Surely, someone can’t be this perfect all the time?” And of course you’re right, they’re only human after all. So give them the benefit of the doubt, because yes, this charisma is one of the ways that helps them protect themselves and their inner world. But with that said, they are an incredibly friendly and social individual.

Your FS definitely has a darker or more complex side to their personality. Layers to them that they don’t feel comfortable sharing right off the bat, but you can sense the depth of this person the more you observe or talk to them. They may have struggled with temptation or addiction in the past. It makes them a lot more cautious opening up to people and you can sense that. Your FS may give you just enough information to get them by, but they definitely aren’t going to be revealing too much to you at this time. I see them wanting to impress you, so they’re going to try to remain a bit mysterious. They may also be currently grappling with difficult choices or inner demons. So it’s possible that they’re going to do their best to keep you at arm’s length for the time being. They may have a rebellious streak and may be drawn to experiences that push boundaries or challenge social norms. I see you definitely feeling their “bad boy/girl” vibe lol like, “hmmm what kind of trouble can we get into?” Ok pile 1, I see you! 👀

This person is highly intelligent and analytical. I mean, you don't become that dastardly charming by being a dumb dumb, amiright? 😈 Your FS may possess a sharp wit and be able to cut through complexity to get straight to the heart of a matter. Their ability to read people, including you, exceptionally well may intimidate you a bit. Their piercing eyes will cut right through you if you allow it. Independence is of the utmost importance to them at this point of their life. It may be hard to get them to be open to the idea of settling down, but eventually you will open them up to the possibility. They may be assertive and decisive, able to make tough decisions with ease. However, they may also come across as emotionally distant or aloof, prioritizing logic over emotions. This may be hard for some of you to get pass in the long run, because I see a lot of you are quite an emotional individual. Nothing wrong with that, you just need to find a middle ground with them. Hope you liked your reading!

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Pile Two - Terence & Tinkerbell

5 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, and Knight of Swords

Hey pile 2! Here we go... Your initial impression of you future spouse is that they are a complex and emotionally intense individual.

You may think that your FS may be feeling sadness or more so disappointment in this case. They may also seem to be focused on what they have lost rather than what they still have. I'm getting that they could have been snubbed for a promotion or didn't get a job they applied for. For a good handful of you, they lost a significant amount of money in stock trading or something a long those lines and they are pissed off about it. But they still have an air of wealth to them so it's not something they'll be worried about for too long. Very much career oriented. They may give off an initial impression of feeling down or carrying a heavy burden. A lot of weight falls on their shoulders. Over all, you most likely will be meeting your FS when they're having a bad day and they're trying to blow of some steam. Kind of a pessimistic vibe and you'll wonder if they're always like this.

But even with all that said, your FS is grounded and practical, with a strong focus on building a solid foundation for their future. I think they're practicality is what will stand out most to you. They may be diligent and hardworking, with a strong sense of responsibility and duty. Lol for some, I'm hearing "a duty to their mama, more like", so they can be a Mama's boy/girl and family oriented as well. Could even want to be a provider. I can see them talking about their job/career a lot. It looks like they're going to try to impress you with how much money they earn and quite a lot of you will take the bait. They may also be eager to learn and explore new things. So they will question you a lot too.

Your FS is highly intellectual and may be prone to quick thinking and may have to make hard decisions on a daily basis. Ok, this person is Do-Mi-NANT! They tend to be the boss at work, in social situations, and most of all, in the bedroom! This isn’t an 18+ reading, but it needed to be said lol. They may be sharp-tongued and assertive with the tendency to speak their mind without hesitation. And you better believe they're going to be assertive in showing their intentions with you 👀 You may get intimidated if they come on too strongly, but they're doing it in order to test you. They may be drawn to conflict or competition and may thrive under pressure. If they see you having other suitors present, they're going to make those suitors have a run for their money. The type of person who likes the chase because they know they have the tendency to get whatever they want. You'll be attracted to their power and the way they carry themselves. Hope you enjoyed the reading!

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Pile Three - Mavis & Johnny

8 of Cups reversed, The Magician reversed, The Hierophant

Hello pile 3, welcome to your reading. Your future spouse may give off an initial impression of them feeling stuck in life, lacking direction, and/or disconnected from their inner power. They may have a guarded, distracted demeanor all around so they may not even notice you at first.

Your FS may have a reluctance to let go of old patterns or situations that are no longer serving their needs. They may come across as feeling unfulfilled or unhappy with their current circumstances and may be hesitant to take action to change them. Somewhat of a people pleaser whose pretty much over everyone, but won't do anything beyond that point at the moment. It's likely that you're going to meet them as they're struggling to transition careers or after a break up. For the majority of you, it will be after a break up. Ok, let's get real a moment... for a good number of you who chose this pile, they may currently be in a relationship that they're not happy/satisfied with and it shows and you can see the unfulfillment written all over them. Rolling their eyes, huffing when someone speaks, arms crossed, all around closed off… Their current person may be there with them when you meet them for some of you, so heads up. Let their situation play out. Don't be the one to throw a wrench in the mix or you'll bring a lot of unnecessary drama in your life.

Your FS isn't all that great at expressing their intentions or manifesting their desires. Just all around really bad at flirting 🙈 how adorable lol. Most of you will find this really cute and endearing, but there are some of you who will think that they may not be interested in you even though they really are. For the ones who are meeting their FS when they're taken, your FS will try to block this connection, but obviously that isn't going to work for them in the long run lol.

Your FS may come across as lacking confidence in their abilities. They come across as well mannered and really shy as well. Also, they aren't that creative in their approach because they may feel like they don't stand a chance with someone like you. Your FS is pretty much just winging it at the the moment. They may seem to be lacking a sense of direction of what their intentions are, that's because they arent entirely sure what they want right now.

They seem like they are wanting to venture out and do their own thing. Pretty tired of the opinions of others, but not entirely confident enough yet to put a snub to certain situations. The situations will be different for each individual. At first meeting, you may not be entirely sure how you feel about your FS. You find them to be smart but also quite stubborn in their approach to life. You are attracted to them, but you may be concerned with their lack of current stability. Only time will tell... Hope you enjoyed your reading!

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If you enjoyed your reading and would like to look into this topic further, please DM me for a $7.77 extended reading.

#tarot pac #pick a pic #pick a card #pick a pile #pick an image #pick a pile readings #pick a picture #future spouse pac #future spouse #pac #tarot #free tarot reading #intuitive message #tarotblr #cartomancy #tarot reading #pick a card reading #future spouse pick a card #future spouse reading

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bellaxisworld · 3 months

Text

february 3, @jegulus-microfic prompt: king. word count: 679

Regulus stumbled his way into the Astronomy Tower, tears streaming down his face, sobs and trembles wracking his body. He gasped for breath as he ran into a strong chest, recoiling harshly before realizing it was Jamie. Oh, we’re home, his aching bones sang, reaching with desperation towards James.

James cursed and wrapped his arms tight around Regulus. “Oh, shit, Reg, what’s wrong—”

He buried his head into James’ shoulder and breathed him in, breathing in pure Jamie, his love, the boy whose arms he will always fall into, his safety and protector. He might have to face the wrath of his family, the wrath of the entire world on the outside, but here, he could just be Regulus, who loves James and is dearly loved by James. Here, he and James could forget the whole outside world, and just exist together in their little fantasies. They could be free, and share dreams and hopes, and think of better times, with the promise of a safer future with each other, somewhere far away.

But for now, Regulus couldn’t get a word out around his violent sobs, so the boys stood there and James held him, rubbing soothing circles across his back and whispering words of kindness, of love.

In James’ arms, he healed little by little, restored and calmer, and eventually he pulled James to the corner of the Tower, curling up against stone and under the blanket James always brought on their nightly Tower excursions. He wrapped himself around James, cuddled together, two bodies breathing and beating in sync, fondness warming their shared breaths as they shared lazy kisses, consoling kisses.

Regulus’ head was resting on Jamie’s chest, hearing his heart thump, thump, thump. He listened to the heart that beat only for him, hearing the love that was intrinsically bound within those steady beats.

“Would you like to talk about what happened, sweetheart?” James whispered, lips moving against his temple.

Reg sighed, focusing on exhaling away his tension. “No, I don’t think so. Not right now.” Their hands were woven together, and Reg fiddled with James’ fingers, gentle and curious. “I think I just…I want to escape.”

James nodded, always understanding. “It’s one of those nights, huh? Where shall we escape to?”

He hummed. “I don’t know. Anywhere but here. What’s your dream tonight?”

“Let me think very hard, this is important business,” James said, ever so serious about sharing their far-away dreams. “I’m thinking we’re in a distant land, and Reg—you beautiful thing—you’re made of royalty. You’re…a generous king. And I am but a lowly peasant who begs for the attention of the highly desirable king. Everyone in the whole land practically crawls for King Regulus’ attention, because he’s kind, and beautiful, and thoughtful and creative, and he loves with his whole heart. And I… I would be a servant of the castle, and we’d fall in love in the shadows, love found in the little moments, kisses shared in the dark, and it would be lovely.” Reg felt his eyes sting at the description. James kissed his forehead, blowing out an amused breath. “And then you’d promote me, of course, and I’d be a crowned prince, and we’d live happily ever after. Looking after a kingdom together, buying all the expensive literature in the world for you, safe in our fortress of a castle. And we’re happy.”

Regulus scoffed, throat choked up and eyes shining with tears. “You soppy bastard, you’re supposed to help me avoid crying tonight, you’re not supposed to get so romantic I want to snog you for eternity but I’m too busy crying to do so.” He squeezed James’ hand, tingling from his warmth. Quieter, he said, “But it’s perfect, that dream. We should make a fairytale out of it.”

James gave him an adoring smile, dimples popping out. “You’re already my fairytale, Reg.”

Reg made an indignant noise, playfully pinching James’ arm. “Merlin, stop getting so soppy, I won’t ever stop crying.”

He felt James’ grin pressed against his neck, laughter bubbling up between them. “As you wish, King Regulus.”

also found on ao3(multi-chapter microfic wip): february, i'm yours

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day-drawn-blog · 6 months

Text

Part VII: I went away cause I missed you or maybe You are not mine and am I truly yours? - The Power

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV : There is more to do and I still want to live

Part V : our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI: These ain't my sins. I broke my chains.

Part VIII: Your blood like wine, invites me in.

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

You all stayed at camp as two of your party members recovered their physical and psychic damage. Not much happened. The second night, Astarion was able to step out, and sit next to the campfire with everyone. Everyone had spent time on their own way - resting. Wyll seemed to have refined a dance. He wanted to share with everyone, and asked for a partner, just as you walked in with a bunch of firewood. Everyone looked at you and Wyll found his volunteer. You indulged him.

It turned out more fun than you had thought.

You enjoyed dancing in a previous life. A life which you cannot remember much of, anymore. Everyone was being merry. Astarion seemed to be recovering because he made some snarky comment at Wyll's dancing skills. Said he always dreamt of marrying a handsome prince charming like Wyll as a kid - making everyone burst out in laughter. Wyll offered to dance with him in return and Astarion turned him down saying he was afraid of being stepped on. After which a funny banter followed.

All was not as bad as it could be.

"You seem to be all better, Astarion. Good to see, soldier. It's all thanks to Halsin's medicine that our dear captain so diligently put on you all night" Karlach beamed, gesturing to you. You felt like a deer in the spotlight. "Ah no no no, I hardly -- " "Of course you did, you followed my instructions perfectly" chimed in Halsin, unhelpfully.

You looked down to the ground blushing. You didn't want to look at Astarion. At this point you may as well hold a sign saying you love him, you thought. "Thank you. Captain." Astarion returned, in a solemn and deep voice. "I owe you my life". "Again." You were sure he said that last word, or did he. It was said very softly, almost to himself.

Everyone was able to march forwards again.

In the underdark the next day, Shadowheart and Karlach were chatting. You wondered if Shadowheart and Astarion had found their way to each other again. You hoped they did. You did not want to come in between real love. "You know, I have a spent time in a crypt. But the underdark, still unsettles me". What?

Astarion had caught up with you.

He was trying to make conversation! You were surprised. "Are you still feeling unwell? Maybe you thought I was someone else?". You blurted out unwittingly. Half joking, but also, not. "Why would you say that? I was perfectly aware who I was walking upto to have an idle chatter with. If you are not interested... however" He feigned being hurt. "You never talk to me, Astarion. This feels very, not normal. Why now?". You were genuinely curious.

"Do I not?" He seemed hurt.

"We haven't spoken a word except last night in the past week". You reminded him, pettily. " I had, a few things to sort through, in my head." He said, a bit distant. "But I feel much better today. Both in body and in mind". "That is very good to hear. We were all worried that night. You were close to falling in the water".

You two then talked a fair bit.

About the incident, about his time as a magistrate in Baldurs gate. A few things about Cazador. You felt there was more to the Cazador story than he let on. But that would have to wait. You were in combat again.

You started with your back to his back.

You had never fought this way before. You felt safer. You cancelled someone trying to cast a spell on the party. Then at one point, while you were momentarily distracted, you saw two hands on either side of you, cast 'ignis' from behind you, as hot flames burst forth. It was so warm for a moment. Not just from the spell but his breathy voice right behind you as he took down your enemy for you.

His face was so close to you.

"Look out!" You were so distracted by his face, you didn't see the arrows coming. Astarion turned you around while shielding you with his back that took the arrows. His armor was enough to save him but that was dangerous. "What are you doing?!," You demanded, slightly frowning since that was reckless. "Saving your distracted self. You're welcome" he snarked back.

And whose fault is that, again. You sighed.

Fighting side by side had it's charms. It gave him advantage on his sneak attacks while you took out any enemies in range. But at one point, towards the end of the battle, you were both near a ledge, when someone set off an explosive and you both fell off. Down into the abyss. You cast feather fall to save your lives and braced for impact.

It didn't hurt as much but you both fell in a pool of rubble dirt and dust that clouded everything. Coughing, you couldn't see in the smoke cloud and dust. The area looked precarious. As if a false step or loud sound would make you go crashing further. Astarion was a few feet away. Coughing.

He crawled towards you. "Are you okay"?

A wooden beam seemed to fall towards you as you looked up. Your mind went blank. You Eldritch blasted it and realized it splattered into a hundred splinters that were now raining down on you. In an instant, Astarion was on you. Fully armored. And he shielded you from the worst of them. You on your back, him on all fours, protecting you.

"What are you doing?"

You were genuinely angry. Why does he keep putting himself in danger for you! Those splinters were not enough to hurt you badly, and you did not need saving from something so trivial. What has gotten into him today. Being the Hero. Didn't he find the idea repulsive? You couldn't understand this man. He definitely disapproved of a lot of your more benevolent choices in the past. And now look at who is being the Hero.

Hypocrite.

You expected him to say he was saving you, and you had your reply ready in your head. That you would have survived just fine. You just needed to remember the right spell.

"I'm being ... grateful".

Is what he said. What? You looked into his eyes. Once again, his face, was very close to yours. "You are a handful. You know that"? He quipped. You were offended. "Excuse me - I cast feath -- " His lips were on yours. He sucked and pulled on your lower lip before parting.

"I -- wa --- "

"Shut up" and he kissed you again. Several times. Quick, rash and hurried. His tongue found yours. You had no time to breathe. Your mind was going blank again. Why does this man do this to you every time. You put your arms around him without thinking when a voice rang out. "You guys ok down there? " Karlach's voice ran out from above.

He tore away instantly.

"Yes! " He promptly got away and waved "we are here!!" "I saved her but now we need help getting out". "You didn't save ---" " Shut up or I will kiss you again". It wasn't the warning that shut you up. But the shock at what was happening... You just stared at him wide eyed. "If you don't believe me, why don't you test me" he smirked. He helped you up. The party had thrown a rope ladder down to you two.

After you. He said.

You held the rope. No, after you. "I'm afraid, my love, that can't be helped" he stood behind you and tugged at the rope to check its strength, he was so close again. "I need to keep my eyes on you darling. " He smirked again as he leaned in and kissed you again. This one was longer and more tender. "For the journey back up, my dear. Who knows when I can tear you away again".

His hand was on your stomach. Tantalizingly close to your breasts. "I would like to savor you more ....later" He said in a very low voice, next to your ears, almost in a whisper. Your head tilted back, he planted one more kiss on your lips and let you go. You gripped the rope hard. Your heard pounding from the kisses he lavished on you.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, and made your way up, slowly. Looking back down every now and again as he smiled up at you.

You resolved to end this turmoil soon.

Back up reunited, you decided to stay with the others the rest of the day. That didn't prevent him from catching your eye and flashing his smile at you every chance he got. You turned away, cheeks flushed and confused, every time.

Back at camp that night, you tore away from everyone, to sort your thoughts through before confronting him. You found a secluded pool, so you stripped to your inners and went in the cool water. You were still uncomfortable being completely naked in the wilderness. Made you feel, vulnerable. Besides - who knew if someone was lurking. These woods were filled with thieves, bandits...vampires.

"There you are, darling. "

Shocked, you turned to see him. "How did you -". He smirked. "Why, I can smell your sweet blood miles away. Did you forget, I'm a... vampire" he winked. You were infuriated - not a moment's peace with this man around. You should have washed your wounds faster. Years of being a predator has given him perfect stalking skills it seemed. Fine. Might as well get it done with. You braced yourself.

Astarion stripped down and got into the water.

Part VIII : Your blood like wine, invites me in.

#astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #fluff #fanfic #vampire #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate 3

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marooncardiganlover · 8 months

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West Coast

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader

Word Count: Under 1k

Summary: Just another night on the beach with Finnick.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this, let me know if you did :)

The sun began its descent on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the sandy beach. Finnick Odair stood by the water's edge, his gaze fixed on the gentle ebb and flow of the waves. The salt-laden breeze tousled his hair as he inhaled the familiar scent of the sea.

You found yourself drawn to his presence, captivated by the way the fading light seemed to accentuate his chiseled features and the deep, reflective look in his sea-green eyes. As if sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a soft smile.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, his voice carrying the soothing melody of the ocean's rhythm.

You nodded, your heart skipping a beat. "It's breathtaking."

Finnick's smile widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "There's something about the simplicity of the beach that's always drawn me in. It's a stark contrast to the extravagance of the Capitol, but I find beauty in its serenity."

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows that stretched towards the water. Finnick extended his hand toward you, a silent invitation. Without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his, feeling the warmth of his touch against your skin. Together, you walked along the shoreline, the sand cool beneath your feet.

The lyrics of an unspoken connection seemed to weave between you, the silences between your words as meaningful as the conversation itself. With each step, you found yourself falling into a comfortable rhythm, as if you had known Finnick for far longer than you actually had.

Finnick's fingers interlaced with yours, his touch sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "You know," he began, his voice soft, "this place reminds me of the moments between the chaos of the Games."

Curious, you looked up at him, urging him to continue.

"In the arena, the memories of the sea kept me grounded," he explained, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "The feeling of the sand, the sound of the waves—it was my way of holding onto a piece of home."

His vulnerability touched you, and you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're incredibly resilient, Finnick. To endure all of that and still find beauty in the simplest moments."

A genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes reflecting gratitude. "It's people like you who remind me why I keep fighting. The Capitol tried to break me, but they couldn't take away my appreciation for authenticity."

As the conversation flowed effortlessly, you realized that Finnick's charm was only a small part of what made him remarkable. With each shared story and exchanged laughter, the bond between you deepened. The night stretched on, the stars beginning to twinkle above, and it felt like time was standing still.

Eventually, the two of you settled on a piece of driftwood, shoulders brushing as you watched the stars come alive in the night sky. Finnick's arm found its way around your shoulders, creating a comforting and exhilarating connection.

Under the watchful gaze of the stars, you leaned into his embrace, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. In the quiet moments between your shared words, you knew that whatever the future held, having Finnick by your side made it all seem a little less daunting.

As the waves continued their timeless dance, the whispers of the sea seemed to echo a promise of new beginnings. And as you listened to the symphony of the night, with Finnick's presence grounding you, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey, one that would be shaped by the tides of fate and the strength of your bond.

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slytherheign · 8 months

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WE WERE HAPPY | max verstappen

A BONUS PART OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: ex!max verstappen x fem!reader, slight daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

SUMMARY: max reminisces the past while still hoping there will be a future with you.

WARNINGS: breakup, allusions to a hidden relationship, feelings of hurt and regret. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. i’m saying sorry in advance for hurting y’all lmao enjoy the first bonus part of the series!

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Judgement.

The very thing Max had to endure from his waking day to his resting night.

Society had this insatiable hunger for every detail of his life. It was as if he was living in a fishbowl, constantly under the microscope of public opinion. And while some people were fine handling the judgment and the unsolicited advice, he didn’t want to handle them.

Love, to him, was something pure, something tender that deserved to be nurtured in privacy and solitude. He wanted to protect its fragile beauty from the harsh winds of judgment that inevitably blew his way. There was something incredibly sacred about love when it was shielded from prying eyes. When it was allowed to blossom in the quiet corners of life, away from the constant scrutiny of the world. It felt like a precious secret, something that only you and he held dear, and that was what he wanted to protect.

He knew that for something to be protected, it needed a shield.

And that was what he did—a shield. He created one just for you.

He had seen just what would happen when relationships became public knowledge. Every moment was always dissected, analyzed, and twisted to fit the warped narratives society loved to create. Suddenly, the private joys would become a subject of gossip, and the heartfelt moments would be displayed as entertainment for the masses.

He refused to let his love life become another spectacle for the world to feast upon. He refused to subject you to the constant barrage of opinions and criticisms. It wasn't about being deceitful or hiding what you had with him. No, it was about preserving the peace he had found and ensuring that the love flourished away from the harsh glare of public scrutiny.

He was trying to protect his peace. But above all, he was trying to protect your peace.

He wanted the love you shared to be pure, unadulterated by outside influences, and unburdened by the expectations imposed upon him. He wanted it to be a sanctuary, a haven where he could truly be himself without the need to conform to societal norms.

So, he continued to keep your relationship hidden from the public eye, not out of shame, but out of a deep desire to protect the delicate balance you and him had created.

He believed in the happiness within the sanctuary he had built with you, away from the prying eyes of the outside world. Because, for him, that was where his peace and yours truly resided.

It was funny how his mind wandered back to the memories he held dear, even when those memories were filled with bittersweet reminders of what once was. He found himself revisiting the past, reliving moments when happiness was a constant companion, but now, it felt like a distant dream.

You were happy.

He used to secretly walk along the streets with you, back when the porch lights were shining bright and he would wear some ridiculous outfit that was far from his usual style just to keep people away from knowing who he was.

The world felt so much brighter with you. He missed the way your laughter would fill a room and all the things you did before he eventually had somewhere to be. He missed how your touch could heal the deepest wounds within his soul back when he still had all your nights.

And you were happy.

He missed the love you shared, the knowing glances, the silent understanding of each other's hearts.

He could recall a good while back, when he snuck into your apartment. You threw your arms around his neck back when he still deserved it.

You were happy.

Back when it was good, it was good.

No one could touch the way you both laughed in the dark, talking about your family business you were going to inherit someday.

And you were happy.

You used to watch the sun go down on the boats in the water with him. That was sort of how he felt right now. At least now he knew that going down with you was far better than feeling down without you.

But the worst thing of all, far worse than being without you, was seeing you with Daniel.

He hated the voices in his head telling him you were better with Daniel. But as much as he wanted to get away from them, they didn't give him choices because he also knew there was a truth in what those voices said. And that truth was what his tears were for.

'Cause you were happy.

But not with him.

There was a time when he had it all. Love wrapped around him like a warm embrace, filling his days with laughter and his heart with contentment. You were both so incredibly happy. He had found his soulmate, his partner in crime, and together you painted a beautiful picture of love.

You shared dreams, hopes, and aspirations. Your love was this incredible force, propelling each other forward, pushing both of you to become the best versions of yourselves. Every smile, every touch, every stolen moment seemed like a chapter from a fairytale.

But then, he made a terrible mistake. He let his fears and insecurities overwhelm him, clouding his judgment and poisoning his relationship with you. He pushed away the very person who had given him so much joy. He let his own demons sabotage the happiness you had built together.

He wondered if he should tell you what happened back in his home race week.

He was staying at his family home before the race weekend started. Sat on the couch with his family and his phone in his hand, he showed your face to his family.

They had asked him where you were but he could only shrug.

He finally introduced you to his family.

But only with pictures because you weren’t there.

Words could not describe what he felt when he saw you with Daniel. God knew how much he wanted to pull you away from him that moment but all he could do was freeze on his spot and look away.

That should've been him by your side.

But the truth was, he messed up. He let the fear of losing what he had due to public judgment consume him, and in doing so, he lost it all. The regret and guilt he was carrying weighed heavy on his heart, reminding him of what he had and what he foolishly let slip away.

All he needed now was a second chance.

And he swore to never lose you again.

You might be with Daniel now, but he wasn't giving up.

One thing was sure, he wasn't going down without a fight.

He wanted you to be the one he would marry someday.

And you would be happy.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry

are you team max or team daniel? vote here. also, message me or comment down below if you want to be added to my taglist! specify if you want to be added to my main (slytherheign) taglist where i’ll tag you in everything i publish in the future or just the formula one taglist.

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cosmoeticss · 1 year

Text

The Pact | Aegon Targaryen Modern!AU (part one)

Words: 4.3K

Pairing: modern!Aegon Targaryen II x reader, slight Dalton Greyjoy x reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI Cheating, caught cheating, swearing, underage drinking, eventual smut. this is my ‘rom com’ fic so please expect rom com level corniness.

Note: This is probably gonna run for about 4 or 5 parts depending on how I lay it out but I’m so excited to share it with you. Also aegon isn’t show canon aegon obviously, I’m just very in love with tgc I pulled it from another random idea I had wrote out months ago with no plot line and made it into this. I hope y’all enjoy it.

my masterlist

seventeen

The summer you turned seventeen had seemed never ending while you had been living it. The hot nights were spent next to your best friend, sneaking out to parties, stealing bottles from Aegon’s fathers liquor cabinet, and climbing out of bedroom windows to stargaze and ponder what the future would hold for you both. It wasn’t until that fateful August night – the night of his older sister's wedding – when you both had exhausted the dance floor and small talk with distant family members and friends, that you felt in the air that it was coming to an end.

You were sitting at your assigned table, music from the reception blaring as you finally discarded the sandals that had been hurting your feet all night, when you felt fingers brush your shoulder, grabbing your attention. You snapped your attention to the culprit, none other than Aegon Targaryen moseying past you, a bottle of Casterly Rock red wine tucked discreetly behind his back as he beckoned you to follow. You gave him a lopsided grin, jumping from your seat to grab on to his arm as you both made a break for the exit.

“Did they just let you take that?” you exclaimed, the excitement of getting caught jumping in your chest.

“I snuck in the kitchens while no one was paying attention,” he explained, arm linked with yours as he led you to a patch of soft grass outside the gardens of the Red Keep.

“And no one saw?” you raised an eyebrow at him, stifling a giggle as you both found your place on the ground next to each other.

“Don’t act so surprised, I can be sneaky,” he furrowed his brow, feigning offense. “Like a ninja.”

An earnest laugh bubbled in your chest as you took the bottle from him, making quick work of breaking the seal and attempting to remove the cork. “Of course, because the first thing I think of when I look at you is ninja.”

“Let me,” he snatched it back, rolling his eyes as you struggled. He winced as he tugged at the cork with all his might, letting out a breath of relief at the satisfying ‘pop’ as he finally freed it. “I’ve never had wine before. My mum drinks it all the time, though.” He admitted, passing it back to you.

“Alicent is a woman of taste. This isn’t just wine, Aeg,” you said, mimicking a dramatic posh accent as you lifted the bottle to your nose to breathe in the bitter, fruity scent. “It’s very fancy, expensive wine for very fancy, expensive people.”

Aegon chuckled, eyeing her as she sized up the thick, deep red liquid.. “Well tonight, we are very fancy people, so bottoms up, mate.”

You took a deep breath, raising the bottle to your lips and grimacing as the liquid reached your taste buds. Coughing at the flavor, you reluctantly swallowed the large swig you’d taken down, gagging in disgust as you handed the bottle back to Aegon who was already in stitches.

“Don't laugh!” you whined, only slightly embarrassed as you laid back in the grass. “It’s disgusting! I thought it was supposed to be good, your mum is mad if she drinks that all the time.”

“What happened to her being a woman of taste?” he took a big swig, handling it with much more grace than you had but expression still twisting with distaste as he spun the bottle to read the label. “Yeah, that's rank.”

“I told you.”

“Maybe we’re drinking it wrong,” he took another drink before setting it down and laying back with you, bringing his arm to rest under his head.

You rolled your eyes half heartedly. “How can you even drink something wrong?” you poked, fingers weaving through the blades of grass between the two of you.

“I dunno, maybe we’re not fancy or expensive enough,” he teased, his hand falling from his stomach to scoop yours up, fiddling with it as you both admired the clear sky above you, the smell of fall air just lingering in the distance like smoke.

You giggled sweetly. “Yeah, that’s it,” he hummed at your response. “I’ll stick with my good ol’ Vodka Cran’s, thank you very much.”

He groaned in mock annoyance. “You and those Vodka Cran’s.”

You pointed your joined hand at the bottle sitting unevenly in the grass. “They taste better than that, I’ll tell you what.”

He shrugged, smirking lightly at your defensiveness. “Cheaper too, I suppose.”

“Right,” you teased.

“Right,” Aegon squeezed your fingers as you two fell into a comfortable silence, the boisterous sounds of Rhaenyra and Harwin’s reception muffled by the distance and the chirping of nearby crickets were the only noise filling the air.

“I can’t believe Breakbones really cried when Nyra came down the aisle,” Aegon mused softly, breaking the pause. “I can,” you shook your head fondly at the memory of earlier today, as his fell to the side to look at you as you spoke. “He’s all big and tough on the outside, but on the inside the man is nothing but a softy, I swear it.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get married?” Aegon pondered, studying your vague expression, brows furrowing as he tried to decipher what you were thinking. “What?” He pressed as you didn’t answer straight away, lost in thought.

You snapped out of whatever trance the question put you in, finally meeting his gaze. “Um,” your eyes averted, blowing raspberries through your lips as you thought. “I dunno. I hope so.”

“What do you mean you ‘hope so?’”

You shrugged shyly in what felt like defeat. “I mean I want to someday, it’s just,” you paused, feeling a bit silly about what you were about to admit. “Seeing your sister and Harwin today, like they really love each other.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, still confused at where you were going with this.

“I just have a hard time believing anyone will ever love me that much,” you huffed, and his face softened. “Like I can’t imagine anyone ever wanting to be with me like that. I just don’t see it ever happening for me.”

Aegon shook his head in disagreement. “(Y/N), I’m saying this as kindly as I possibly can, but that’s complete bullshit,” you veered your attention back up to the stars, and hoped Aegon wouldn’t see your cheeks burning red. “You’re gorgeous, and like, the best person I know. There’s no way you’re gonna end up alone.”

“You think?” you frowned, holding back the tears that we’re pricking at your eyes.

“I know it,” he insisted. “Anyone who doesn’t see it is stupid.”

“Thanks, Aeg,” you fell into another silence, this one less peaceful than the last.

“I’ll marry you,” he muttered and nudged you then, causing you to chuckle.

“Would you now?” you rolled your eyes.

“I would!” he sat up slightly, shifting to his side and looking down on your jovial expression. “What? Do you think I wouldn’t be a good husband?”

You burst into playful laughter, softly hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “No, I’m sure you’d be a brilliant husband,” you jested, sarcasm evident in your town.

“I’m serious,” he raised his eyebrows at her, his bemused smile outing him entirely.

You put up your hands defensively. “I’m sure you are.”

“I think we’d be a great married couple,” he offered, rattling off the next few things that came to mind. “We already spend every day together, and they always say you should marry your best friend. Our wedding should be half as big as this one, though. It’s more intimate that way. With more dancing and better booze.”

You beamed at him in awe. “You’ve just got a pros and cons list, have you?”

“It’s been a very tough decision, but everyone else is insufferable so I might as well marry the one person who isn’t,” he affirmed, very matter-of-factly.

“And you’re so sure that I would want to marry you?”

His eyes fluttered over your face in admiration, your fingers still intertwined between you as he toyed with them thoughtfully. The action made your breath catch in your throat as you suddenly took note of how close you actually were.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Aegon rasped, mulling something over in his head a moment, thinking it through before putting it fully out there. “If we’re both not married or in a serious relationship when we’re twenty-seven, we’ll marry each other.”

“Ten years from now?” your eyes widened.

Aegon smirked. “Yes seventeen plus ten is twenty-seven,” he chaffed, causing you to smack him on the chest again.

“Thirty,” you wagered.

He shook his head softly. “Twenty-seven.”

“Twenty-eight?” you raised an eyebrow, he pursed his lips as he pondered your bargain.

“Twenty-seven and a half,” he detangled your fingers to offer out his pinky, you eyed it a moment before interlocking it with yours.

“Deal,” you whispered breathlessly. “Stamp it.” You twisted your hand to press your thumbs together.

“Uh-oh,” he grinned. “That’s legally binding now.”

“Uh-oh,” you busted out in a genuine laugh then, throwing your head back as he joined in with you, lying back down on the ground next to you and wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you into his chest. “I better make quick work of finding a husband if I want to get rid of you.”

“Silly girl,” he dropped a chaste kiss to the top of your head as you both drank in the night sky and the sweet dwindling of summer warmth. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

twenty-six

The second you had woken up that morning, you knew it was going to be a strange day. Strange was one way to put it. It had been the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had noticed while only half awake that morning, that hadn’t gone away no matter what you did. You weren't hungry, nor did you feel sick like you were going to spill the contents of your guts at any sudden moment, it was just that ever present sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that followed you the whole day.

That sinking feeling, combined with the staleness in the air at The Golden Stag – the pub where you worked – and the King’s Landing summer heat swallowing you whole was what you thought really did you in. There you were, hunched over the cash register taking deep breaths. Her back was turned from the mild crowd, one hand gripping the POS monitor and the other twisted in a fistful of hair to keep it off your shoulders.

Gods, a shower would fix most of my problems right now, you thought, the thin layer of sweat covering you was only making things worse. You were almost so wrapped up in trying to will your ailments away with your mind that you didn’t notice your shift leader, Cassandra Baratheon, approaching from behind to use the register you were currently hogging.

As if on cue, you finally felt her presence, jolting from your spot to lean on the bar next to the register. “Sorry, did you need this?” you mumble as you do.

Cass cocks an eyebrow at you, “No worries,” she says as she begins punching in an order, her warm green eyes only leaving you to check the screen. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You don't look so good, lovey.”

“I’m probably fine,” you brush her off. “I’ve just been feeling a little off all day.”

Cassandra doesn't seem convinced. She looks over her shoulder, scanning around the room before bringing her attention back to you as you picked up a plastic laminated menu and began fanning your glistening chest with it. “Y’know we’re pretty dead,” she reasons. “If you wanna head out, no one would be mad.”

“What if it picks up?” you try, not wanting to sound too eager to bail so early in the night. Cassandra lifts up her wrist, her watch screen illuminating her face as she does.

“It’s almost one, love. I’m sure if we were gonna pick up we would’ve by now,” she pinched your elbow playfully. Gods bless this angel of a woman.

“I’m sure we’ll survive two more hours without you.”

You sent her a grateful look. “I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Cass rolls her eyes playfully at this, “Yeah, yeah. Just get out of my bar and go home,” she grins as she says it. “Make that himbo boyfriend of yours take care of you, I want you better by 6 tomorrow, missy.”

“Dalton? Coming anywhere near me while I’m sick?” you scoffed in spite of yourself as you collected your purse and keys, imagining it. “I highly doubt that will ever happen.”

“Jerk,” she frowned. “Tell him I said hi anyway, and be safe going home, would ya?.”

“I will,” you called over your shoulder, shuffling out to the street and starting the five block trek back home. You had met Dalton Greyjoy at work, a couple months after you and Aegon had first moved into the city after university four years ago. He was a regular at the Stag, and hit on you relentlessly for weeks until you finally took him up on his offer to let him take you on a date. Everything fell into routine after that first date, two months later you were official, and eight months after that you were moving out of yours and your best friends shared flat and into Dalton’s one bedroom down the street from your work.

Though it was a complete change of pace from having spent nearly everyday together since you’d met, Aegon didn’t mind. Sure, he wasn’t Dalton Greyjoy’s biggest fan but, he wanted you to be happy, and you seemed happy enough. It wasn’t like he particularly needed you to help with rent. He would have used his trust fund for the both of you to live there if you had allowed it, but you weren’t one to take handouts even from him. So your nightly chats under the starlit Westerosi sky turned to weekly chats and sometimes took place over the phone after a long weekend shift. And your days spent always together became midday coffee runs a few times a week, and tipsy visits while you were bartending with whoever he was seeing this month.

The newest one was called Sara, who despite her passive aggressive jealousy whenever you were around each other, seemed good for him. You didn’t know if this one would last, as they often didn’t, but had hoped regardless for Aegon’s sake.

The walk home had not been as bad as you had set it up to be, it was the rickety elevator in your building stamped with a neon yellow ‘out of order’ sign that was the real bitch. On any other night, the five flights up would be nothing, annoying at most, but now you were considering making a new home for yourself on the second floor landing. You paused as you made it to the third floor finally, bracing yourself against the wall as your chest heaved to give yourself a break.

Gods, all you wanted was your bed and some peace and quiet, and it was so close, almost right in reach. “Come on, (Y/N).” You mumbled to yourself, forcing your legs to continue on. When you finally reached your door, you pressed your forehead to the hardwood, dropping your purse from your shoulder and fumbling around for your keys before your fingers grazed the familiar plastic souvenir keychain Aegon had got you on your summer trip to Dorne last year. You unlocked the door, before stepping inside and pressing your back to the door to shut it, taking several deep breaths. Your lungs were putting in overtime, as if you’d just run a marathon.

As you finally steadied yourself, you moved to slide down the door to sit on the floor and finally remove your non-slip sneakers. As your fingers fumbled with the laces, you heard a muffled sound coming from your bedroom, almost as if your boyfriend had left the TV on in bed. “Babe?” You called out, ears perking to listen for a reply that didn't come. You furrowed your brow, eyes narrowing on an unfamiliar purse on the kitchen island in front of you.

Your breath caught as you halted the unlacing of your shoes and your gaze traveled to the ground next to you to find a pair of women's trainers that certainly weren’t yours.

No. You thought sharply, that sinking feeling that had been plaguing you all day gathering as bile in the back of your throat. Absolutely not.

You stood slowly, not fully registering what you knew you would find on the other side of your bedroom door. Your steps were achingly slow as you approached, fingers reaching out to graze the door handle, your eyes falling shut as the muffled noises became clearer. You swallowed the dreadful acidic feeling and mustered all the courage you had in you to twist the knob and push open the door.

They didn’t notice you at first, Dalton and the pretty brunette underneath him that he was rutting into, the girl who was certainly not you. The bile rose again, as you finally were able to find your voice. “What the fuck is this?” You spat, nausea taking over as the girl gasped and your boyfriend halted his actions, cursing as he pulled out of her and covered himself.

“Shitshitshitshit,” he hissed, frantically scrambling to find his boxers. “Babe, this isn’t what it looks like.”

Don’t cry.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you uttered, turning quickly on your heel to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before the contents of your stomach spilled out of you. You gripped the bowl tightly, hunching over and retching, as your body finally relieved itself of that nauseating, sinking feeling. You were left gasping for air when you were finally done, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“(Y/N)?” Dalton whispered, fingers barely reaching your shoulder before you smacked them away harshly.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed, using what was left of your energy to push yourself to your feet.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Babe,” he rambled desperately, following her through the apartment as you hastily made your way to the closet. “I swear it’s not what it looks like. I don’t even really know her, it was just a one time thing.”

The girl, still tucked under your covers didn’t dare move or interject as you gathered any article of clothing in arms reach of you and stuffed it in an overnight back. “Oh, it was just a one time thing, was it?” you exclaimed, sarcasm dripping like honey from your lips.

“Yes! I swear!”

“Fuck you, Dalton. Is that supposed to make a fucking difference?” you shoved past him, and back into the bathroom to gather all your toiletries and stuff them haphazardly into the bag.

“Please, (Y/N). Let me explain,” he was right on your tail, a pitiful look on his face that made you want to bury your fist into it. “Can’t we talk about this?”

You scoffed. “There’s nothing to explain, I understand perfectly what’s going on here.”

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving.” you stated, matter-of-factly.

“Where?”

You barked out an insincere laugh. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business, Dalton.”

His expression changed then, to something almost angry at the flip of a switch as you brushed past him to the door. “Oh, I don’t even have to ask, do I?” “I’d prefer if you didn’t, you fucking asshole,” you grabbed your spare pair of shoes by the door, making it the last thing you grabbed in your rage. “Besides, I don’t think you have any room to be patronizing me about Aegon when you were just fucking someone in our bed!” Your hand grabbed hold of the doorknob. “Fine, leave then,” Dalton threw his hands up dramatically. “Run home to your little boyfriend.”

Your head snapped, over your shoulder, stricken with disbelief as you shook your head. You wanted to say something clever, something just outright mean, something that would really hit him where it hurt. You wanted to be brave and put him right in his place, but no words came to you. You just stood there in the doorway, frozen in place, and utterly dumbfounded.

When you finally came to, you simply turned back to the door, opening it swiftly and slamming it shut behind you, stumbling down the five flights and into the street.

You finally let the tears fall then, a strangled sob erupting from deep within you as hot tears flowed freely and mascara ran down your cheeks. You took off walking through the city without a second thought – a babbling, crying, mess – to the only other place you wanted to be.

The sharp chime of the doorbell rang through Aegon’s townhouse a little after two, followed by a pounding on his door. He groaned, curling deeper into his covers in annoyance. “I don’t wanna,” he whined, hoping the assailant would get the picture and leave. It was to no avail though, the bell rang twice more, followed by that same hastened pounding.

He practically growled as he gave in, throwing the covers harshly off of him, making his way to the door. “Alright, I’m coming!” Aegon shouted frustratedly, not bothering to check the peephole to see who was waking him at this hour as he unlocked the door and flung it open. “Seven Hells, what?”

Aegon’s temper diffused at the sight in front of him. You stood pitifully before him, hands full, hair disheveled, eyes rung red and mascara running down your swollen cheeks from crying. “(Y/N)?” he pulled you through the door frame without a second thought, tense worry painted over his face. He shut the door behind you and helped to drop your bags to the floor. “What on earth is wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you hiccupped as he took your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the tears that flowed freely. “I didn’t know where else to go, Dalton, he–”

Aegon’s jaw clenched when you couldn’t bring yourself to finish. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head frantically. “He didn’t touch me.”

“What did he do?” Aegon tried to remain calm at the state of you.

You sniffled, bringing your fingers to wrap around his wrists. “I walked in on him with another girl in our bed,” you sobbed, breaking Aegon’s heart as he pulled you into his chest.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he stroked the back of your head and rubbed circles into your back to comfort you as you wept. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered over and over.

“I was sick all day, and they sent me home from work early,” you lifted your head from his chest to look up at him. “I didn’t know what to do. I just came straight here.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you did. Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up,” he brushed away the hair stuck to your damp cheeks, taking your hand and grabbing your overnight bag as he gently led you to the bathroom. “Before I drive over there and kill him myself.”

Aegon wet a washcloth under cold water, handing it over to you to clean your face off. You accepted it gratefully, the cool sensation washing over you as you ran the rag over your face and neck. His lips dropped to your hairline, his hand coming to rub your arm softly. “I’ll grab you a sleep shirt.”

“Thank you,” you muttered hoarsely as he disappeared into the hall. You dug through your bag and the random things you remembered to grab during the fight. Aegon returned after you had nearly finished brushing your teeth, dark green t-shirt in hand.

He handed it over, leaning against the sink as you rinsed out your mouth. “I haven't touched your room in ages,” he admitted carefully. “Not since you left.”

Three years. Aegon hadn’t done anything with your room for three years.

“It’s empty then?”

“You took your bed when you left.”

You nodded thoughtfully, eyes glued to his chest. “I can take the couch and figure things out tomorrow.”

He shook his head softly. “No need, you can just sleep with me.” “Aegon,” you started. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” he shrugged. “And neither am I, come lay down with me. You need some rest and we’ll talk about everything in the morning. It’ll be a slumber party, like old times.”

“I’m not feeling very party right now, Aeg,” you chuckled humorlessly, looking over his facial features cautiously. “And coming from personal experience, I’m sure Sara wouldn’t be pleased to find me snuggled up to her boyfriend.”

If you call what you walked in on ‘snuggling.’

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not her boyfriend anymore then.”

Your eyes widened at his admission. “Aeg, why didn’t you tell me?” you moved to wrap your arms around him in comfort.

“It just happened last night,” he pulled you away to look you in the eye. “It’s alright. We’ll talk about it in the morning though.”

“Aegon—“ You protested as he pulled you carefully by the wrist towards his bedroom.

“In the morning,” he hushed you, straightening out the pillows and blankets that were splayed across his mattress to make room for you next to him as you changed into the shirt in his walk in closet.

When you emerged, clad in only his oversized ‘Hightower Family Reunion’ shirt, Aegon was already nestling under the covers. He gave you a sweet smile when he saw you, throwing them open to beckoning you in. You crawled into the spot beside his, the tension in your shoulders dissolving on the cloud he called a mattress. A sigh of relief slipped from your tear swollen lips, Aegon’s fingers found their home in yours between the two of you and he squeezed them three times, lulling you into relaxation.

You hummed softly, your eyes fluttering closed. The warmth of his bed and the smell of his cologne wrapping around you like a tender hug. “Goodnight, Aegon,” you mumbled sleepily, sinking deeper into the sheets.

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” he whispered, fingers drawing soothing circled into your palm. “I’ll see you when the sun is shining.”

next part

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd aegon #aegon ii imagine #aegon x you #aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #tom glynn carney

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leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld · 23 days

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CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Three – Noona}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

Rated (M) for mature

Words: 4k!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF MENTAL TRAUMA, (MILD) PANIC ATTACK AND PROFANITY. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION

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MATERIALIST

Taehyung's POV

The shock I felt was overwhelming, to say the least.

Why was she going against everything we've been taught? As hybrids, our purpose has always been crystal clear - to serve humans obediently and to seek their approval and attention.

Yet here she stood, challenging the very foundation of our existence. She advocated for our freedom, for the recognition of our worth as equals in a society that had always viewed us as mere possessions.

I couldn't help but question her motives. Was she naive, idealistic, or perhaps just brave beyond measure? And where did that leave the rest of us who had long accepted our subjugated status without resistance?

Lost in contemplation, I was taken aback when she appeared before me, concern etched across her features.

"Taehyung, are you alright? You seemed lost in thought," she inquired, her eyes reflecting a genuine worry that tugged at my emotions.

In that moment, I longed to seek solace in her embrace, to share the turmoil brewing within me. For I was far from okay, and the realization of our oppressed existence weighed heavily on my heart.

Being owned and exploited had been our norm – a perpetual cycle of submission that had stifled any flicker of rebellion within us. The dream of freedom, of being recognized and respected, had seemed like a distant, unattainable fantasy.

But her words, her actions... Perhaps they held the promise of a new dawn, a ray of hope amidst the darkness of our existence. Maybe, just maybe, today marked the beginning of a revolution long overdue.

As uncertainty mingled with hope within me, I couldn't help but wonder,

Was this really a path we desired to tread, one filled with unknown challenges and risks? Or was it a leap into a future where our voices could finally be heard, our identities no longer defined by the chains of servitude?

The answers eluded me, shrouded in the complexity of our reality. And as I stood there, grappling with conflicting emotions, one thing became clear – the winds of change were blowing, and we stood at the precipice of a choice that could redefine our very existence.

Heaven's POV

After carefully observing them, I realized that their appearance was not necessarily extravagant, but it was the emotions they displayed that caught my attention.

I could sense that they held great potential within them, waiting to be unlocked and showcased to the world.

I felt a strong determination to help them harness the talents and capabilities that lay dormant within them. They deserved a chance to shine and I was determined to make that happen.

In order to make them feel more comfortable and cared for, I called one of my guards to bring them some fresh clothes. It didn't sit right with me to see them in their current state, and I wanted to provide them with a sense of dignity and respect.

Shortly after my request, there was a knock on the door. I welcomed my guards into the room as they entered with multiple bags of clean, brand new clothes.

Their promptness and attention to detail reflected the level of care and professionalism that I expected from my staff.

"Ms. Valentino, here are the clothes you requested. They are clean and brand new, just as you specified," one of the guards informed me. I expressed my gratitude towards them and instructed them to also prepare seven double beds for our guests.

I began to envision the transformation that awaited them once they were given the necessary resources and support.

With determination and a compassionate heart, I was ready to guide them towards their full potential and help them realize the greatness that I saw within each of them.

I could feel several pairs of eyes on me as I stood there, commanding attention from them but I shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“Okay, uhm, how about you all take a shower, dress up, and wait for your beds,” I said with a warm smile, trying to make them feel comfortable in this new setting.

They didn't budge, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. Well, this was just the beginning for them. They were about to get pampered in ways they never imagined.

I caught Jimin's eye, and when he quickly averted his gaze, I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Jimin?” I called out softly, making him tense up before slowly meeting my eyes again.

I gave them a piece of advice, emphasizing the importance of holding their heads high and never showing submission to anyone. I wanted them to be confident, to never let anyone look down on them.

Taehyung was the first to stand up, a glimmer of determination in his eyes as he approached me, trying to break free from his ingrained habits.

It was progress, even if it was just a small step forward.

“Thank you mas-- H-Heaven, I promise that on behalf of me and my pack, we will try not to show submission and break through our conditioning,” Taehyung's voice was firm, filled with determination to change.

I couldn't help but smile at his dedication. It was going to be a journey for them to embrace their true nature, and I was ready to guide them every step of the way.

As their protector and their link to the Valentino family, I made it clear that they were safe under my watch. No harm would come to them, not now, not ever.

“I'm glad, but let's not forget the practical stuff. Could you guys shower and dress up, please?” I added, feeling a bit awkward at the prolonged exposure to naked bodies.

The scene was chaotic as they frantically tried to locate the bathroom.

Their confusion was evident as they scurried in different directions. I couldn't help but chuckle at their adorable bewilderment, finding amusement in their predicament.

Not wanting them to endure any more embarrassment, I took it upon myself to guide them to the bathroom, offering a sense of relief amidst the chaos.

As I directed them, I made sure to inform them about the specific toiletries I had prepared for their use.

Understanding the sensitivity of their skin to human products, I had purchased hybrid-friendly soap and body lotion, keeping their well-being in mind. New toothbrushes were also made available in the cupboards for their convenience.

To further put them at ease, I encouraged them to choose clothing from the bags I had set out, assuring them that they could change after they had showered.

However, it came as a surprise to me when I discovered that they had never used a shower before. My heart went out to them as I realized the foreignness of such a mundane activity for them.

It saddened me to think that they were unfamiliar with the concept of taking a shower, highlighting the stark differences between our species.

The fact that something as basic as personal hygiene could be a new and potentially overwhelming experience for them tugged at my heartstrings. It served as a poignant reminder of the privileges I often took for granted.

After demonstrating how to operate the shower, I left them on their own, granting them the privacy they deserved.

Retreating to the living room of the suite, as I waited for the beds.

As I sat in the living room, my thoughts lingered on the cultural and physical barriers that separated us, prompting a sense of empathy and compassion for their vulnerable state.

~An Hour Later~

The boys were now clean and dressed, they looked absolutely breathtaking.

I mean, if they were good-looking before, now they were on a whole other level of beauty, they could pass for models on the front page of vogue magazines.

They were all rocking simple, casual outfits, but they somehow managed to make them look so stylish and chic. I couldn't help but admire how effortlessly cool they all looked.

"Okay, now that you guys are all clean and dressed, who's hungry?" I asked them, feeling excited about our little mealtime.

Hoseok timidly raised his hand without meeting my eyes. It was adorable how he was trying to be subtle about it.

"Yes, Hobi, what can I get for you?" I inquired, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

His reaction was priceless. His eyes widened, cheeks turning a cute shade of red as he stammered out his request.

"C-can I get w-what you're having, mas– Heaven?"

Gosh, he was just too precious.

"Aww, Hobi, sweetheart, you don't have to be so polite. Order whatever you want, and I'll make sure you get it. And if you want to have the same as me, that's totally fine too. Same goes for all of you, alright?" I reassured them with a warm smile.

Seeing them all nodding in agreement made my heart melt. They were just too adorable for words.

I wasted no time in calling Min-Soo for some food delivery, and just like that, he was at our doorstep in no time. Seriously, did this guy have superhuman speed or what?

"Hello, Min-Soo. My hybrids and I are hungry. Where's the restaurant?" I asked him, my voice coming out emotionless but eager, ready to fill our bellies.

"I'm sorry miss Valentino but the kitchen is closed and will only be open at seven in the morning" He said.

The restaurant is closed, which is beyond frustrating. I mean, who closes a restaurant at such a crazy time? Especially when they host late night events, which end at two in the morning.

Annoyed at the inconvenience, I dismissed Min-Soo with a sharp word and closed the door firmly behind him. Turning back to my hybrids, I noticed they were all staring at me in bewilderment.

What? Did I say something?

“Are you guys okay?” I asked, my tone unintentionally brusque.

But they all silently stared at me.

Weird.

Until it clicked.

"Oh, sorry, I hate insolence, it gets on my nerves," I remarked, deflecting the intensity of the situation with a casual shrug.

"Hello? Yes could you please bring in some food…" I talked to my guards as I took time to ask the boys what they want before hanging up.

In the faint light of the room, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the boys' imposing muscular bodies and the visible outline of their ribs, a telltale sign of malnourishment.

It tugged at my heart, a reminder of the struggles they must have faced.

As I stepped further into the room, their gazes bore into me, making me feel incredibly small despite my own confidence.

It wasn't just their sheer size or height that intimidated me, it was the way they stood in a rigid, almost defensive formation, like a wall closing in around me.

The hybrids seemed to exude a certain unpredictability that kept me slightly on edge.

Feeling the tension in the room, I tried to break the silence,

"As we wait for our food, why don't we do something?"

Jin, the lion hybrid, approached me with measured steps, his presence commanding attention.

There was an unspoken intensity in his voice that gave me pause, a hint of something hidden beneath the surface.

"What should we do?" His voice was laced with an unidentifiable undertone that sent a shiver down my spine.

I found myself faltering, unsure of how to interpret the weight behind his words.

Locking eyes with Jin, I noticed the darkness that seemed to swirl within them, a silent mystery that left me unsettled.

I realized then that he had been unusually quiet since our encounter began, a fact that added to his enigmatic aura.

Just as the tension peaked, a disruptive cough cut through the thick atmosphere, jolting us back to reality.

In that fleeting moment, the veil of darkness that shrouded Jin's eyes lifted, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of strength.

What was that? It seemed like he was trying to figure something out, I could feel it.

The raw and undeniable fear.

Was he testing me, by trying to intimidate me?

Confusion and curiosity warred within me as I tried to make sense of the sudden shift in dynamics.

"C-can you please scratch my e-ears?" Jin's bashful request was just the tip of the iceberg in the dynamics among the hybrids.

The way he timidly approached me with that innocent look in his eyes, contrasting with the powerful aura he previously exuded, was quite a sight to behold.

As I gently ran my fingers through his hair and scratched his ears, the pure joy that washed over his face was undeniable.

The way he leaned into my touch, seeking more closeness, was endearing beyond words. It was a reminder of the simple pleasures in life that these hybrids had been deprived of for so long.

"Have you never been given pets?" I asked slightly amused.

He shakes his head no and that breaks my heart.

The fact that he and probably the rest of the boys had never experienced such a simple form of affection before was both heartwarming and heartbreaking.

It made me realize just how much they had missed out on in terms of basic care and love.

Observing the eagerness in the eyes of the other hybrids, I couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility weighing on me.

I had spent countless hours studying about hybrids, their behaviors, needs, and desires.

Hybrids, as I had learned, were not just creatures to be feared or controlled. They were beings capable of deep emotions, forming bonds, and seeking out the warmth of touch and affection.

It was a side of them that many failed to see, overshadowed by their predatory instincts and fierce appearance.

So, when the other hybrids clamored around me, their eyes pleading for the same attention and care that Jin had received, I couldn't help but laugh at the sudden rush of demand for pets and cuddles.

It was a stark reminder of just how starved they were for these simple acts of kindness.

Without hesitation, I welcomed them into the circle, giving each of them the ear scratches and pets they had been longing for.

The way their eyes lit up, their bodies relaxing under my touch, was a testament to the power of affection and care.

In that moment, surrounded by these powerful yet vulnerable beings, I knew that I had found my purpose.

To be the one who would give them everything they had been denied, to show them that in a world filled with darkness, there was still light and warmth to be found in simple gestures of love and kindness.

I noticed only six of them came to me, their fluffy fur shimmering in the dim light of the room. They wagged their tails, eager for attention and pets.

I looked around and saw the seventh one standing alone in a corner, his eyes fixed on us but his body language distant, almost wary.

After I had finished giving the last hybrid his pets, I walked toward the seventh one cautiously.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, a hint of concern creeping into my voice as I approached him.

He seemed a bit shaken, but his expression remained neutral.

"Yes," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind.

I sensed something beneath the surface, a tension that made me worry for him even more. "Are you certain? You don't seem..." I trailed off as he suddenly cut me off, his voice sharp and accusing.

"I SAID I'M FINE! YOU DON'T NEED TO PRETEND THAT YOU CARE ABOUT ME OR ANY OF US!!" He exclaimed, his words cutting through the room and capturing the attention of the other hybrids.

His outburst caught me off guard, his voice starkly different from the gentle tones I had heard before. I felt a surge of confusion and a tinge of hurt. Why did he think I was pretending?

“What are you talking about?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper in the tense atmosphere.

His words came rushing out, filled with anger and pain.

"Oh, cut your bullshit, no human is nice. You all are just sick solipsistic, power-starved, sex-hungry beings that want to use hybrids to feel superior. I know all of this is solely a ploy for us to trust you, only to betray us in the end and inflict unimaginable suffering on us!"

Tears streamed down his face, his anguish palpable in the room. I stood there, struck by the intensity of his accusations and the depth of his despair. His words stung, painting a picture of humanity that I couldn't bear to see reflected in his eyes.

As the weight of his words settled around us, I realized the importance of listening, truly listening, to his pain and fears.

This wasn't just an outburst, it was a cry for understanding and empathy in a world that had shown him nothing but cruelty and distrust.

I took a step closer, a silent promise in my heart to prove him wrong and to show him that not all humans are the monsters he believed us to be.

The situation was heartbreaking, to say the least. It was evident that he wasn't just dealing with anger or frustration, no, he was battling deep-rooted pain, scars that ran far beneath the surface.

His anguish transcended mere emotions, it was a haunting blend of hurt, fear, and utter terror.

And who could blame him, or any of them for that matter?

After enduring such torment for an extended period, even the most joyful individual can find themselves in the shadowy depths of despair.

The quiet ones, those who bear their burdens in silence, are not exempt either, eventually, the weight becomes too much to bear.

It all boils down to a matter of endurance, of how much one can bear and for how long. For him, for all of them huddled in that dimly lit room, they had reached their breaking point.

The seams of their collective resilience were unraveling, frayed threads of composure coming undone in a tumultuous display of raw emotion.

As I cautiously approached him, offering a gesture of comfort, he recoiled, a pained scream tearing through the heavy air.

"NO, NO, NO, BACK AWAY FROM ME," his voice cracked with anguish, the words punctuated by gasps for air.

His desperate plea to keep his distance, to spare him from further distress, echoed off the walls in a wrenching crescendo of agony.

"DON'T TOUCH ME, PLEASE, I'M SO TIRED OF THIS!! PLEASE, DON'T DO IT, D-DON'T DO I-IT."

The desperation in his voice was palpable, a visceral reminder of the turmoil festering within his shattered psyche.

I could see the torment etched in every line of his face, the anguish that had driven him to this precipice of despair.

With a gut-wrenching cry, he twisted his fingers into a tight grip, his knuckles white with strain. His back pressed against the unforgiving wall, he sank to the floor, the weight of his suffering bowing him down to the ground.

A lump formed in my throat, a bitter taste of helplessness settling in the pit of my stomach as I bore witness to his unraveling.

The sight was almost too much to bear, a tableau of anguish that seared itself into my mind's eye.

He was a man besieged, haunted by ghosts that only he could see. What unspeakable horrors had he endured, what demons lurked in the darkest recesses of his mind?

My heart ached for him, a silent cry of empathy for a soul adrift in a sea of pain.

As he began to scratch at his skin, the telltale signs of a panic attack setting in, my heart clenched with a sense of impending dread.

The frantic energy that coursed through him, the feral need to escape his own skin, painted a stark portrait of a mind in turmoil.

In that moment, all I could do was bear witness, a silent sentinel in the face of a storm that threatened to consume us all. The air was thick with unspoken anguish, a heavy shroud of despair that cloaked us in its suffocating embrace.

As I took the risk and wrapped my arms around the hybrid, a wave of emotions and thoughts flooded my mind.

The danger of being so close to a hybrid in such volatile tendencies lingered in the back of my head, but my concern for his well-being overshadowed any fear I felt.

The bond that seemed to have formed between us, seven males and myself, appeared almost predestined, as if our meeting was written in the stars.

To outsiders, my actions might seem irrational or even foolish, but deep within me, there was an unexplainable pull towards these individuals.

Their vulnerabilities and struggles tugged at my heartstrings, compelling me to protect and nurture them. The connection I felt with the hybrid in my embrace was undeniable, despite the risks involved.

As he held me tightly, I could sense his turmoil and pain. It was a moment of raw emotions, where words seemed inadequate.

Yet, I found myself making promises, vowing to shield them from any harm that may come their way. My voice quivered with determination as I declared my commitment to safeguard their autonomy and ensure they led a life free of suffering.

"It's okay, sweetie," I whispered, the weight of my promise heavy in the air.

"I swear on my life that no harm will befall you or any of the others. Your life, your choices – no one will infringe upon them. I will earn your trust and build a shield around you, protecting you from the darkness that once plagued your existence. Your future is bright, and I will not allow anyone, including myself, to cast a shadow over it."

In that moment, my resolve solidified, fueled by a mix of defiance and solemnity.

I knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but my conviction to safeguard these individuals was unwavering.

With every beat of my heart, I vowed to be their protector, their guardian, standing firm against any threat that dared to approach them.

And as we stood there, locked in an embrace that transcended words, I knew that this was just the beginning of a journey filled with unwavering loyalty and unbreakable bonds.

The male's once tense demeanor visibly softened, though he still clung onto me tightly, burying his face into the crook of my neck. The desperation in his actions was palpable.

Glancing around, I realized that the others, who had been ominously silent until now, were all watching us intently. Despite their stoic expressions, the fear and weariness in their eyes betrayed their facade of indifference.

Turning my gaze back to the hybrid, I felt a shiver run down my spine as he held onto me with a fierce grip. His sudden intake of breath as he whispered in a low, guttural voice sent a chill down my spine.

"Noona"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey, lovely readers!

I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the story so far. I'm eager to hear your thoughts on this latest chapter.

Did you predict which hybrid would burst out? Were you surprised by the twist, or did you see it coming?

Your feedback means a lot to me, so please drop a comment below and share your thoughts. And remember to reblog the story if you're hooked and want to show your support.

Your enthusiasm and engagement truly make my day, so thank you in advance for taking the time to read, comment, and reblog.

Every interaction with my work means the world to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you.

So, whether you're reading this in the tranquility of the night or the hustle and bustle of the day, I hope you're having a wonderful time.

And to all my beautiful butterflies out there, thank you for fluttering through these pages with me.

Your presence adds magic to this journey, and I'm grateful for your companionship. You're all awesome and fabulous, and your support fuels my creative spirit.

Sending love and inspiration your way,

Author-nim.

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody @strawblueberrys

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tachimichishrine · 6 months

Note

I swear no one does Higuchi justice like c’mon I’m BEGGING to be her cute wife that cooks for her whenever she comes from the Mafia. The chokehold she has on me is just *mwah* she’d be so sweet

also love your tachihara fanfiction it’s my dinner everyday <3

"housewife"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

higuchi ichiyo x wife! reader

warnings: i attempt fluff again ; this is so short idk why, apologies my liege ; this is fiction bc there's no way i could cook smth and not poison my wife/ burn the house down in the process ,,, ; tw bath!! (/j it's all just fluff) ; l e s b i a n s ; love language is phys touch deal with it ; itty bitty cursing ; lowercase intended ; NOT proofread

you knew not to panic in such situations. waking up to disheveled sheets that had turned frigid, indicating that ichiyo had been gone too long. you allowed yourself to sleep in, given that you had the day off and decided you'd just lounge around, take a break and plan something nice for your lover in the meantime.

a stress-free period, but all you felt was anxiety when you dialed her number and got sent straight to voicemail repeatedly. this time, you decided you might as well actually leave a message when the line rang for too long.

"'chiyo, honey, call me back when you get this. just wanna make sure everything's okay, alright? I miss you already, love y-"

"who the hell is this?"

you'd been anticipating the automated voice so much that it barely registered that you didn't actually hear it this time, and a quick glance at the screen confirmed that you really were on call with someone on the other end of the line. the voice was raspy, definitely not hers, so you echoed back the question.

"um, who are you?" you challenged with a hand on your hip that they couldn't see.

except, instead of a response, you heard some distant voices on the other line, one rather hyper as it babbled something you interpreted as 'akutagawa-senpai!'. a few noises ensued along a brief chaos you couldn't see, and suddenly the phone was put back to someone's ear as they panted. you could recognize that heavy breathing anywhere.

"hey, hey, 'chiyo, what's going on?" you spoke softly, hoping she was alright and not trying to scare her.

she stuttered nervously. "sorry, I'm so sorry, I must've dropped my phone somewhere and akutagawa-senpai picked it up and-"

"woah, was that the akutagawa you're always talking about?" you couldn't believe it; after being with her for so long, you'd only ever heard stories about the people with whom she worked. you agreed that the kind of place where she operated was dangerous and it was better not to get yourself involved, so she kept you separated from everything she did. you appreciated the thought, but sometimes you felt a little frustrated that you couldn't meet the people in her life— you didn't even think they were aware ichiyo was married.

a tired sigh confirmed your theory. "look, [_____], I'll call you back when-"

"higuchi, who is that?"

akutagawa seemed to be speaking again, and quite frankly you didn't like his tone. if you were on speaker, you'd set him straight but for now you just listened to ichiyo ramble a response while not actually answering the question. he sounded tired of the bullshit and eventually the line was cut off harshly. something told you that you won't be able to call this number anymore.

music played on the speaker as you hummed, tray of baked goods getting pulled out of the oven by your gloved mitten. the smell filled out the rather small place you shared with both your wife and sister-in-law, but the latter was out for the week on some kind of trip and left you all alone. you'd gotten used to ichiyo's erratic lifestyle, sometimes disappearing during the day and barely making it home at night. she sounded exhausted when she did arrive, so you didn't mind taking care of the little things.

proud of yourself, you put the assorted goods in various plates and left them on the table, waiting for her to come home. you couldn't call her, obviously, since it appears her boss had pulverized the device out of rage. you'd be worried if not for the fact that, based on her stories, it seemed this was a regular occurrence and she didn't mind it. you'd feel jealous of the man if it weren't for the fact that she fawned over you much harder in all the days you'd known her. she knows what she wants and does everything to get it, you'll give her that. by nature, ichiyo was incredibly caring and it was difficult to hold that against her

something was in your hands as you lounged on the couch, passing the time: a book, your phone, anything to keep your mind occupied. the sun had set and you were getting impatient, as nighttime meant she was going to be out until the early hours and might even come home with a particular scent on her clothing that resembled blood and death. how a person so sweet, so feeling could get into this kind of business was beyond you, much less how she could last thing long. she once told you that the only reason she could keep her mind this long was coming home to your soft kisses and pampering.

a clicking of the front lock and the creaking that ensued signaled that you were about to do that once more, and you strolled over to the entrance with an excited smile.

"welcome home, 'chiyo, how wa-" you caught yourself off when you saw a splatter of crimson along her cheek. your lips tugged downwards into a frown as a reflex, and you sighed gently once you saw her expression. she seemed so conflicted, not about whatever crime she'd done but about making you worry so quickly. "hey, hey, it's okay, c'mere."

with that, you pulled her into your embrace and set a kiss on her hair. it still smelled like that shampoo you'd bought her, a subtle vanilla and chamomile that reminded you of her. her entire body slumped into your strong arms, and she let you drag her across the house, shedding her shoes, meticulously pulling the elastic out of her hair to let her messy bun fall into a bob, then helping her out of her unbuttoned jacket. you pulled her body into yours as you laid down on the couch again, but this time with her head shoved into your chest, which was one of her favourite things to do.

"wanna talk about it?" you asked, dumbly, one of your regular antics. of course she wanted to talk about it; she did an awful job keeping things to herself anyways.

so, you listened carefully while she recounted stories with fake names to keep you protected and vague details in certain places, specific in others. she didn't seem hungry, so you just skipped the food for now and dragged her to your bedroom. you were about to throw her pajamas and get her to change so you could just lay down in bed for the evening, but the burgundy was darkening on patches on her arm and you couldn't help but stare at it.

"—so akutawaga-senpai showed up and I felt a little stupid but he-" you interrupted her by grabbing her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

"honey, can we clean off... that..." you danced around the topic, but she knew exactly what you meant when your eyes kept darting to certain areas of her skin. she nodded and you gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. "I'll run the bath and we can scrub it off. keep going, I'm listening."

she continued speaking as you did exactly that and eventually both of you were stripped and laying down in the tub. she was sitting in between your legs, with her back resting on your chest and head leaning back to rest on your shoulder. you traced her body, rubbing into certain patches until her skin was back to its beautiful glow. the warmth of both her and the water was too comforting, and you stayed longer than needed, your fingertips turning raisin-like in protest. despite this, you leaned down to kiss her up and down her neck while you gently massaged her flesh from her thighs to her hips, her stomach to her breasts. if she wasn't so tired that she eventually ran out of steam and stopped talking just to revel in your embrace, you might've handled her a little differently. yet, at this moment the only desire you had was to pamper her.

"ichiyo..." you breathed out slowly, lips grazing her ear while you kissed her again and spread out your fingers over her stomach. "mmmmn... 'missed you... i love you s'much..."

god, you would break her if you kept this up. so long together that you finally managed to put a ring on it yet she still fangirled over you like you were her high school crush. even as you pulled yourselves out of the sanctuary of steam and warmth in order to actually eat, she blushed every time you left a quick peck on her cheek or rubbed noses while chuckling softly.

she fell asleep in your arms, with her leg on top of you pulling you close like her very own plushie. it was hard not to smile at her once she began snoring and murmuring something about akutagawa during her slumber.

hand in hand, you snuggled up in big jackets in the middle of the night to fend off the frigid breeze. holding onto your fingers wasn't enough, and ichiyo was fully clinging onto your bicep as you walked with her in the empty streets of yokohoma.

"this s-sounded so m-much more fun when w-we were inside... warm... by the f-fireplace.." her teeth chattered and she pulled herself closer into you.

"you were the one who suggested getting something from the café," you retorted with a chuckle, opposite hand brought up to tuck her hair behind her ear that was starting to turn pink from the cold. you rubbed your thumb along her cheek which was going through something similar, then sighed with a cloud of hot breath. "alright, honey we'll head in. i think there's another one on this street, we can just stay there and warm up before we go back, mkay?"

she would feel a bit ashamed about being so demanding if you hadn't pulled her in tighter and looked at her so lovingly. she had such an impossible time never believing she was capable enough at the mafia, and that discomfort disappeared as soon as you whispered sweet nothings into her ear and made her feel like everything was alright.

you turned your bodies together, door jingling as you stepped inside and the air blowing down from the heater hitting you. you realized that she was right, it was too damn cold outside, as soon as you felt the contrast of the inside. you turned towards your lover with a quick look to see if her body was as relieved as yours, but she was staring at something intensely on the horizon, like she'd seen a ghost.

you followed her gaze, and it fell on a man with tuffs of white in his hair standing next to a woman, slightly shorter but with noticeably long stands of black veiling the sides of her face.

"do you know them?" you whispered, and she jumped a little. part of her wanted to drag you outside, but she couldn't lie to you or keep things no matter how much her common sense told her to.

"that's... they're..." she was struggling to say something, anything, but you noticed she was letting herself get flustered. in these kinds of situations, you liked to interrupt her with a kiss to bring her back to earth from her constantly overreacting mind.

she pulled away before your lips could touch.

she'd never done that before.

you knew better, that this was probably a question of her not wanting the pda right now or maybe it had something to do with the duo standing over there waiting for their drinks, but it hurt nonetheless when you saw her squint her eyes shut and shake her head.

"that's akutagawa," she whispered as an explanation, and you felt simultaneously irritated and relieved, the former due to the fact that it confirmed that she hadn't told her boss that she was in a relationship, much less married. you understood why but it didn't sting any less.

"who's the girl?" you followed up, trying not to think about it too deeply. "is that.. uh... gin?"

she nodded meekly, and it was impossible to stay mad for long when she was so cute. you slid your hand around her waist, turning her around so that her back was to the pair and they wouldn't recognize her while she spoke to you. your voice dropped so low she could barely hear it. "should we get out of here so they don't see us? I'm not that cold, I can wait outside if it makes you more comfortable, honey."

how could she ask you to do something like that when your words were so caring, so honest? she took a deep breath and shook her head once more. in one impossibly fast motion you found yourself on the other end of the shop, standing in front of the man.

"akutagawa-senpai!" ichiyo exclaimed just a bit too loudly for this time of the day and the serenity of the empty café. she bowed her head down, speaking incredibly quickly. "I don't mean to interrupt your evening but it's come to my attention that you don't know that I'm married and this is my wife her name is [_____] and she's wonderful and-"

"'chiyo, he won't be able to understand what you're saying," you laughed softly, cutting her off as you placed your hand on her back reassuringly before addressing her boss with a respectful nod. "it's nice to finally meet you, akutagawa-san. I've heard a lot about you."

he barely bothered to acknowledge you, but the slight twitch in the spot that should've housed his eyebrows signaled that he was shocked. your smile grew wider when you looked to his sister who was sporting the same look. you pulled ichiyo against you from her hip as if to prove that she was indeed yours, and spoke slowly to explain snippets of the current situation. gin listened carefully without a word while the man tried his very best to seem completely uninterested.

as much as you wanted to learn everything there was to know about ichiyo's other side, eventually his drink was ready and he barely excused himself as he walked out. you watched him do so, and gin nodded to you and said something about how nice it was to make your acquaintance in a meek voice before quickly following him out. you waved, and noticed akutagawa watching you do so warmly before burying his face in his coat and scampering off.

"well," you giggled, turning back towards ichiyo, "that wasn't so bad. she's cute and he's an ass, but I trust your judgement in people."

you could practically see stars in her eyes; she rambled to you the entire walk home - during which she didn't complain about the cold a single time and was nearly bouncing off the sidewalk - about how much he clearly loved you based on his expression (apparently the fact that he didn't try to kill you on the spot was a sure sign of his support). she was so excited she even suggested bringing you with her to the port mafia tomorrow, but you stopped her and told her to slow down for just one second. you loved that she was so passionate about her emotions, but you wanted to talk and think this through before you did anything.

for tonight, though, you let her radiate with happiness as she jumped on top of you, making the mattress creak while she climbed up to sit on your lap and curl her fingers around the fabric of your shirt. your hands on her hips, she sat down with her knees bent on either side of you like a frog and leaned so you were chest-to-chest. she tickled your skin to draw out soft giggles while she peppered you with kisses, littering you with her best efforts to repay just a fraction of what you did for her. you rubbed her thighs in long, loving motions and brought her up so she was sitting on your hips instead. you wanted her closer, and she was happy to oblige as she kissed your lips.

"[_____]," she said, smiling into you, "I'm so lucky..."

you cut her off with a press upwards and a firm grip. "shhh, don't say anything. I love you, you love me and that's all we need."

she murmured your name that night in her sleep instead of akutagawa's.

#so funny writing this after prev ask but wtv i can let myself be domesticated for her #higuchi bsd #higuchi ichiyo #bsd higuchi #bsd x reader #bsd x reader fluff #higuchi x reader #higuchi ichiyo x reader #ichiyo higuchi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #im unwell for them

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grazieschillivera · 8 months

Text

Longing curses 3/5

-His path-

Chapter summary: After showing you that you and Tom share some values, he invites you to a party at the Slytherin common room, after all he plans his future with you and for that you need to know your future enviroment and he needs to show the rest of the school who you belong to.

word count: ca 3000

Warning/tags: smut, manipulation

,,I thought you liked music'' Tom said before you were about to enter the Slytherin common room. He had sensed your tension during the entire way. Despite your polite refusal he insisted to pick you up from your dorm. Tom wanted make sure no one else would accompany you or try to change your mind.

,,Of course I do. But partying is something different, I tend to get shy. Besides I hope they tolerate me'' you said still remembering the discussion at the duelling club.

,,They will.You'll be fine, trust me'' Tom said confidently as usual. The way he gently pressed your hand in his grip before leading you inside, still felt foreign to you. But in an exciting way you figured. It made your heart ache in a bittersweet way and only Tom could mend this pain away it seems. So you found yourself following him more and more despite this strange feeling. Only in the most distant corners of your mind remained the concious that this urge within you might become your peril.

✧ ⊹ I ✧ ⊹

Indeed you felt some shyness once you had entered the common room. Everything is just a bit more vulgar and open at the way the Slytherins party, occasionally it makes you even blush.

If it weren't for Toms ambition to make you feel comfortable you would have felt like an outsider during this night.You only recognised your one friend from Ravenclaw who you had studied in the libary last week.

Once you got intruduced to some friends of Tom properly and you started to get along you felt more at ease. You created a rather big circle and drank some fire whisky and chatted a bit, onyl Abraxas Malfoy gave you a rather bitter look. When you wouldn't look at him, you had the impression he watched you. Tom noticed this as well and made sure that Abraxas would stop that, a daring look was enough.

Eventually Tom encouraged some nice girls of the group to take you dancing with them and off you went, sharing a last smile with Tom.

Tom watched you from the distance. Much to his pride you started to get along with everyone who mattered, you even seemed to have some fun at last. His friends are you company now, they would make you laugh and look after you, when he wasn't around. While you were distracted he made someone throw your Ravenclaw friend outside. Cutting off the last annoying strings.

When you needed a little break you stood beside the improvised dance field and slowly swang to the music.

Your gaze flew across the crowd and you realized how the person you just had thought about came closer to you, almost when it was too late.

Tom approached you like a predator with some smooth steps, when your eyes met you had to chuckle shyly.

,,Oh no Tom'' you said when he offered his hand for you to join him. Everyone would see you both, together. Eventually you took it after some intense starring that showed you that he truly challanged you to overcome your last bit of shyness. He pulls you enthuastically but still smoothly against him and you had to laugh from his behavior. A proud smile crossed his face and he twirled you around as if he wanted to first show you off and then held you like he wanted to keep you all to himself.

This moment felt like a dream. All the green and white lights of the room danced around you two, while Tom swung you around the room. Everyone looked at you out of disbelieve, may it be negatively or positivley. But it didn't matter, because Tom's feeling were the only one that mattered to you.

✧ ⊹ II ✧ ⊹

Some time later you and Tom ended up in a hidden corner where you had led him to. Something inside you had reached its peak and the only thing you lpnged for was Toms attention.

,,Tom can you answer me something honestly?'' you asked with your upper body pressed against his. For a long moment you two had just hugged one another and swung slowly to the music. ,,Did your friends to something in my drink?''

,,What makes you think that?'' asked Tom the soft gaze disappeared at your words.

,,I feel kind of funny. I want... you. Are you sure your friends didn't give me some love potion?'' you asked half heartedly, laughing a bit nervous.

You couldn't know, Tom thought when you said this. He never mentioned how his parents got together.

,,I don't think you need this to feel this way Y/N, am I right? Besides alcohol has its his own special effects'' Tom said while caressing your cheek, suppressing his dark secrets and the harsh feelings that followed them. Instead his lips twisted into a shy smile, you were so close. He could feel how he was about to finally win you.

Your face reddens and you hid it in his hand.

He took your hand in his and brought it to your heart.

,,You can feel it too now, dont you? We're meant to be together'' he says, luring you into his beliefs. You nodded.

,,Tom... I want you. Don't mind my tipsiness, the alcohol just makes me say things I'm too shy to admit usually'' your words sounded like a phrase Tom just wanted you to say. They were so desperate and their purpose was to only get him. And like you dind't had this sleepy thought in the back of your mind your pressed yourself further into his body, searching for more. He was right.

Thats when you let your last doubts fall into sleep and allowed yourself to get yourself what you truely longed for. And Tom watched this little show with his undivided attention.

The shyness in your eyes turned slowly to desire as you attempted to reach out for your needs that laid on Toms lips, for the beginning.

Carefully to cross the distance between your lips and his you got on your tiptoes, his height forced you to.

Embarrassement rushed through you, as Tom turned his face away from yours, denying your wish.

With a challenging smile Tom leaned back, not giving in. Softly his fingers had twisted around your necklace and pushed you on your feet again. Back, underneath him.

Little did you know that this wasn't an act to embarrase you, in fact Tom was very pleased right now. If you weren't so tipsy, that view and your pleading words would be enough for Tom to finally ruin you. The goal he had set for you was almost reached, and for the last steps he wanted you to crawl. Love could be so demanding, Tom had to learn it. Enduring so many restless nights only due to those cursed feelings for you.

His free hand pulled your hair to one side, exposing your neck where he took a gentle hold of it to face him. First you hoped he would kiss you. But then his lips met your neck, first softly enough to savour the feeling of your soft skin but then strong enough to give you a taste of what was to come, when you stayed with him.

The fires in the corridor threw your shadows against the wall and while your head got gently shoved to the side by Toms lips. His huge shadow devoured yours. You were one.

How frightning this relfection was didn't cross your mind, instead your eyes rolled back from the sensation when Toms lips moved to the other side, now hiding your shadows from your sight.

The plan was to make this pleasurable for you but Tom couldn't hold back and pulled you closer to him with one smooth motion around you middle and it only made his lips move with more hunger over your skin. Even though the loud music covered your moans Tom could feel them against his lips. The possesive grip around you wasn't necessary your body arched against his own like you begged for more.

,,You're almost too good at making me lose my own mind'' Tom cursed between some more hot kisses behind your ear, his voice was so close you thought he was in your mind.

With glassy eyes you looked up to him when he withdrawed from you, his other hand still layed around your middle, otherwise you would have stumbled.

,,This should do the trick. Remind others that you belong to someone for now on. But I want to hear it from you again when you are sober'' he said after pressing his lips together like he wanted to have the taste of your skin again. You felt a sting at your neck when his fingers traced around it.Before you could answer Tom took you by the hand and led you back to the party, otherwise you would still be frozen at your spot.

With a proud smile Tom entered the common room with you again, now with a different feeling inside him. And a different version of you it seemed. He almost had pity for you, when everyone could see how flustered and outspaced you were. But the fact that this was all because of him made him proud, hell it even turned him on. Finally everyone could clearly see what Tom had all this time, that you were his. His love, his pride his treasure. Tom finally understoof why people gave their partner silly names.

,,Go get some water and have some fun. I have to talk about something with some friends'' said Tom and left you behind, knowing that you wouldn't walk away from him anymore.

The remaing evening lasted an internity. You would sometimes join Toms little group where he still talked with his friends. Even though he liked the idea of not only being surrended by his minions but also by his love, he wanted to keep you away from his dark plans. He would encourage you to just go back to his other friends while staying a bit cold infront of the others.

Finally Tom came back and declared the end of the party for you two. Your mind was clearer again but nothing had changed about the way you felt. A comforting warmness crossed your bare arms when Tom almost hid you with his dark jacket he wore as his arm kept you softly by his side, guiding you to his room.

✧ ⊹ III ✧ ⊹

,,You have stayed very patient. You understand I wanted our first... real engagement to be special.'' he said after he had pushed the door close and leaned against it while facing you. With one swift motion he cast a spell on the door. His dorm mates would have to sleep somewhere else tonight. There was no way back outside, for the both of you.

You didn't say a word, instead you just watched him approaching you. It all felt like a dream.

,,I would have kissed you sober or drunk. You have something I really like about you, I can't just name it'' you said eventually as you realized that Tom seemed to wait for a reaction, despite his confident smile, that grew wider due to your words.

,,Maybe the fact that we share some values - like hard work. It took some perserverance to show you how much I adore you'' he said, your joined hands came up to your cheek. At first you thought it was meant to be a half hearted joke, but Toms face stood serious so you suppressed your nervous laughter.

,,You bewitched me Y/N'' Tom admitted honestly, with no string of a hidden plan attached as he felt deep down.

You were speechless again.

,,Why not show me how you feel about me?'' he suggested eventually. Little shivers of excitment flew through your body when Tom had said those words. His hands slowly took hold of your body.

Using his grip around your middle Tom pulled you against him to finally lay his lips and yours. They melted softly together and savoured one another's taste.

All the frustration of the waiting he had to endure crushed down on him.Even though Tom knew you, this felt so foreign. Feeling someone else- and yet it was like he drug tom him. His tongue stroke across yours lips before tasting more of you, he hushed your little sounds of nervousness helping you to relaxe more by softly massaging your sides he still held so possessively.

He would never let you go. Not after all those words and actions, not when you felt this good.

At some point Tom and you realized that they still needed to breath. You heart beat loud inside your ears and you pressed your body closer against his chest to calm yourself down. Tom took that as a sign to give you more and softly bend you down on the bed.

A strange feeling run through your body as you carefully crawled further onto the matress while keeping your eyes locked with Toms. One second later you kissed again and despite your need for him Tom seemed to have more of that for you.

His lips started to wander across your cheeks then neck and chest. You couldn't help but moan when his hands tried to decide where to touch you first and eventually pressed your hips against his own like an instinct and was the sweetest sound Tom could hear from you. Everything he did from now on was to squeeze those sounds again and again from out of you.

,,Wait what about your dorm mates?'' you asked when they crossed your mind.

,,You really think about such things when we are doing this?'' Tom asked in a mixture of annoyance and amusement and sucked on that sweet spot on your neck he just had found earning him another moan from you.

,, Just focus on me Y/N. The others don't have to bother you. You're mine after all, right?'' Tom asked in a bare whispher against your lips. You nodded shyly and eargerly.

,,How was that about you wanting me? Tell me about it'' Tom said. His hot breath crossed the skin of your lips when he waited for your answer while his hands roamed over your body. Once you had found your voice his eyes were fixed on your face, already pleased with the way you twisted under his touch.

It was hard to admit your feelings properly to him but Tom helped you.

,,Love is about taking and giving right? Give me an answer and you shall recieve more it that my love'' said Tom ever so confident, a smirk laid on his lips when he reminded you of your own words. He gave you everything when you said everything he wanted to hear. Like how much you needed him, that he was right all the time and that it you were meant to be his. By every right answer Tom undressed you futher and kissed the new parts of your skin he revealed him to.

By the time Tom let lose of you, you were a mess underneath him.Tom looked proudly down at his achievement.

Your gaze was dark and earger, your breath hollow like you didn't dare to be too loud. All you wanted was him.

,,Good Y/N. You're letting go for me dont you? I can see more and more who you really are and you look so perfect like it.You're doing so good'' Tom said to calm you down and kissed your hand lovingly. But it seemed it had quite the opposite effect. In unsteady movements your hips pushed upside against his own, to search for more, while your eyes met his. Tom suppressed a moan while his teeth catched the delicate skin of the back of your hand. You would be his ending when he wouldn't stay careful.

Now you could see Tom truthfully. He wasn't as cunning and cold hearted like so many thought. He was able to love someone, to really crave something. And this thing was you, it must have been so you thought by the picture before your eyes.

,,Let me show you how much I adore you Y/N. I want to make you feel good.'', Tom said softly.

His fingers traced around your bare thighs and hip. ,,You're teasing'' you chuckled when you found the courage to speak. ,,I'm enjoying properly'' Tom said not letting him get out of his pace. Eventually you could feel his fingers between your legs and the uprising courage left you again. You felt so different underneath him, with him still clothed and with you being under his control.

Tom would lie when he said he wasn't nervous as well, but at least he was good at hiding it. All he wanted was you to submitt more and more to him, to show himself that you were his indeed. And he could get lost in the view he got offered when his fingers stretched you out for the first time. Having people under his mercy was always something he enjoyed but it was in such a new way, and much more addicting.

,,Is everything alright? You look so pretty like this. Let me make you do that sound again. You're so good for me, doing so good'' He encourages you, watching you hungryly being on the edge of also getting lost in your excitement.

,,Does this feel good little witch?'' he asked between his trusts or when he curled his fingers a certain way, even though the answer was obvious. Something had changed within him, he was focused again and was now playing with you instead of testing the waters, now that he was certain you liked this.

Your moans weren't enough for him he wanted to hear you say it out loud and when you couldn't answer quick enough. Tom would trust harder into you, reminding you who was in charge when you thought you needn't to answer him or smimply couldnt due to the pleasure.

Your head bend to the side when you came closer but Toms fingers griped you by your chin to guide your gaze back on him. ,,You look at me when you come.'', Tom said sternly.

For second you witnessed a strange moment. While you felt the pleasure run through you it was as if you would look into a mirror, when you watched Tom who felt just as euphoric as you. With glassy eyes he pumped stronger inside you having you cry out higher, almost mimicing your lust and nervousness.

With a broken cry you came down from your high, your thighs still shivered from it while your neck was still gently pressed in the pillow. His eyes were still locked with yours when he brought his fingers to his lips tasting the fruits of his victory. You carefully came up and helped him out of his sweater and shirt, you felt so small against him when you eyed him up.

,,Tom I want to make you feel good as well'' you said still out of breath searching for his gaze when Tom laid himself next to you. ,,What you make me feel now is enough, for now. I lust for something far better at another time. Now let me taste you again'' he said and pushed you down again.

It sounded almost like you were in pain when Tom kept you on the edge, always denying your high despite your pleading moans. Lowkey giving you a taste of your own medicin, he had to wait so long for this moment. Now you were the one who had to be nice and patient for him.

Your hands had reached for his hair to get more friction, but Tom was quicker and pushed them down, giving you a warning by sucking hard on your clit making you whimper. He explained that you must use your words if you wanted something from him.

,,Don't get shy on me. We're partners now, there is nothing you can't tell me. Say what you want'' Tom said like an intimate secret giving you one long lick that made you shiver again searching for more.

The more you found the courage to tell him what you wanted and how badly you needed him the more Tom gave into your pleas. When Tom decided to have heared enough for now he let you have your final release in which he could get lost just like your sweet sounds. With weak arms you brought yourself into the embrace Tom offered you and rested. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how well you did until your sleepiness overwhelmed you.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader

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yourfavouriteflowers · 7 days

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Late Night Talks (Remus x James)

A drabble following a break up during the height of the first war. Due to little spacing, Remus and James are forced to share a room.

The crumpled bedsheets only proved to make things worse. A quick shuffling from James, his eyes piercing into Remus’ back. Soft sobs escaped his mouth, a choke of holding himself back. James took in a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling, a shake stuck in his throat seemingly blocking everything from coming up. All the words he wanted to spill, all the apologies he needed to give trapped behind his thoughts suffocating him. His head drops back and he can hear quiet sniffling and slight movement from Remus. His gaze dropped back to the otherwise still body beside him in a panic.

“Remus?” James whispered, like it was the worst thing he could have said, like it was something sacred. But how could it be? the name of his only lover now just a memory on his tongue but it was just a name. Something he should be used to by now. James could hear Remus still. Everything was still, it seemed like time stopped and nothing was force it to continue going; James knew it would eventually. It had to. He couldn’t sit in agonising silence with Remus.

“James,” Remus replied eventually, his voice even more hushed than James’ own. Quiet enough that James only just heard it. Remus hadn’t moved but James could see more of his body. His head was ontop of his arm, looking down into his chest. James assumed he had been crying, or was at least upset because of the dried tears that set on his face and the slightly red corners of his eyes even though they were shut so tightly, as if afraid of what James called him for.

“You’re upset,” James said. It was a statement really. A statement of what had just happened, him finally bringing up a topic they’d both been avoiding since the break up. “I didn’t think they’d put us in the same room.”

Remus turned and looked up, now in a similar position to James and loud out a pained sigh. “You are too. Don’t be like that, I can take care of myself.”

James let out a sob and wiped away the tears that blurred his vision. “Yeah. I know. It just… sucks that things turned out like this. Like I didn’t want to hurt you, you know? I just couldn’t put you through that shit again. And I know you can take care of yourself but…”

“It’s okay, James. I don’t blame you.”

“I think I needed to hear that,” James said and let out a laugh. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I do love you.”

“I know. I just don’t think we were meant to be, maybe again in some distant future when we aren’t fighting for our lives and our friends are hounding us about getting into relationships. Did we ever even come out to them?”

“Maybe so. I’ll wait for you. I dont think there’s anyone who I can love the same way I love you. And.. no, don’t return it, please. I dont think I could take it. Let’s just enjoy this moment where no one’s fighting or taking sides or anything,” James said, his voice quiet, hanging onto a hope that may not be there. “I never did come out. I think Padfoot was holding out hope that I’d settle down with some girl from school or something. That is just not me though.”

“No, not you at all. Go to sleep, yeah? While we’re still being nice,” Remus said and waited for James to lie back down. The slow movements of the cover made a quiet sound and Remus quickly followed. They both laid in the silence before Remus whispered a last ‘Goodnight.’

wc: 618

#moonysdrabbles #moonchaser #james x remus #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #james potter #drabbles #drabble #writer #one shot #moonsun

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lurkingshan · 6 months

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with such limited options/possibilities for the finale episode of i feel you linger in the air (jom's impending disappearance and khun yai bawling in the garden hugging the air), do you have any specific things/scenes/expectations you hope to see in ep 12?

Not Yai bawling in the garden hugging the air! Oh that’s just too sad to contemplate.

I think there are a few options before us for the ending. Episode 11 closed the main emotional arc of the series: Jom found a purpose, and a true love, and a community, and most importantly, the desire to keep on living. Even if he can’t be with Yai anymore, I believe he will be okay and the experience he’s had in the past will bolster him and give him confidence to rebuild his life back in the future.

As for the romance, well. As I mentioned way back before this show began, with time travel narratives sad and ambiguous endings are always on the table. We’ve been given no reason to believe that the Yai he knows in this time and place would have any way to follow him to the future, we know Jom does not have control over his ability to move through time, and we have been told that he will disappear by the will of whatever magic brought him here in the first place when the time is right. So I really doubt these two will be able to be together. We also know there are several doppelgängers in play and that at least some of the characters in the past have one in the present (Yai seems to have had one in an even more distant past). We still don’t know if these are past live incarnations of the future folks and if this is tied to reincarnation, but that seems likely to me. And there is no indication that the doppelgängers have conscious awareness of their other iterations.

I foresee one of three endings:

Jom will return to the future and eventually meet a doppelgänger of Yai. It will not be the same Yai, but perhaps a person who shares his soul, so it’s about as happy an ending as you can get with this set up. This feels most likely to me.

Jom will return to the future and there is no Yai doppelgänger waiting for him there; the lovers are separated indefinitely. We see Jom looking at his sketches and historical documents to find a trace of Yai, and everybody cries. This feels a bit less likely but still possible.

A secret third thing that will blow my mind.

Regardless of the romance ending, I just hope the finale is able to stay true to the beauty of episode 11, which was such a poignant close to Jom’s time in the past. And I hope we leave all the past characters in a good place, with Yai going to Europe as planned, Eung Phueng getting the safe abortion and life away with Maey she deserves, Fong Kaew finding peace, and Ming, Prik, James and the rest all as okay as they can be given the time and place they live. And I would love to see the new life Jom builds for himself in the future and be reassured that he is happy there.

#man this show is so beautiful and haunting and just all over excellent #i hope the final installment is satisfying #i feel you linger in the air #thai bl #shan answers

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bodhranwriting · 11 months

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Nostos and the Filigree Lantern: Prologue

by Bodhrán M.

The earth opened up on a Tuesday just before noon.

By the time the sun had set, there was only one soul left in the village and this time the darkness was merely an absence of stars.

Eventually, moonlight filtered through the warped slats of the water cask, silver strings stitching a fence between him and the inevitable truth. Moving his hand took an age. Every muscle in his arm seemed to work as a separate entity, unfolding joint by joint like links in a chain, until his twitching fingers touched the first fragile beam of light.

He half-expected it to hurt – some distant part of his mind told him he was being ridiculous – but the skin didn’t blister or peel or even pucker. Instead, he turned his hand this way and that, staring at the old scars in a new, paler light.

The only word in his head was moonmelt.

It meant the kind of light which only happened right in the middle of the month, just before spring turned to summer. It was the kind of light you only got when the days were stretching, but before the insects and the damp heat flattened the evening. A night with moonmelt meant eating outside for the first time that year, huddled around a communal fire with shared drowsiness from planting and quiet, contagious hope for those shoots to grow.

Moonmelt meant a future waiting to happen.

Nostos didn’t know how long he stayed like that, bathing his fingers in the silver threads, before some semblance of sense filtered through the fog in his brain.

Inhaling sharply, he dragged his hand back to his side and began to pat himself down as best he could in the confined space. His questing fingers found nothing worse than a few bruises on his shoulder and ribs, a graze on his left palm, and a small lump near his temple just above his hairline. It smarted as he gently probed it, leaving a heartbeat of dizziness in its wake, but he didn’t think it’d caused unconsciousness.

In fact, he wasn’t certain he’d blacked out at all. Despite a conspicuous lack of memories from the moment the sun came back to now, Nostos hesitantly put the loss of time down to what his grandmother had called heart-shock. It wasn’t unheard of for miners who had survived explosions to experience it: their bodies put their minds somewhere else while they piloted themselves.

And the best way to haul yourself out of that state, Nostos remembered, was to start making the brain work.

Deliberately, Nostos looked around. His eyelids fluttered as he let each blink become a painting of its own, filing them away separately in his mind’s eye.

He was curled up in a wooden water butt, knocked over onto its side. A shallow pool of cold, brackish-smelling rainfall was soaking into his breeches under his hip. The lid had come off when it’d been struck – by who or what he didn’t know – and he could see the reflections of stars in the spill just beyond the rim. Rough splinters caught in his curls as he tried to move, beads of blood blossoming wetly on his skull. The cask rocked with his movements, causing his crawl to become twice as difficult as it should have been.

He didn’t understand why he hadn’t been discovered.

Maybe he still would.

The world was silent as he cautiously clawed his way out and onto the rough paving stone of the alleyway, but one look let him know that this silence existed outside of his own perspective. Not for the first time, he thanked and cursed the Gods for his deafness. If he’d had to hear the screams – if, of course, they had screamed – he’d probably now be mad.

Unless he was mad already. Crouching in a familiar street beside unfamiliar ruins felt like it should be a kind of madness in itself. The twisted, perforated houses couldn’t be the same sturdy homes he’d passed every single day of his life. The world couldn’t have gone dark like that except in a fevered nightmare…

Stop.

The sharpness of his own thoughts surprised him but that was enough to focus on.

Panicking is how you die, they said. What do you do when you get lost? Find water. Find food. Find shelter. It doesn’t matter that you’re in your own home, you are lost. What do you do?

Find people.

Maybe you’re not the only one.

Relief struck him like lightning. Nostos staggered, barely catching himself on the rough stone of Widow Lemmas’ house. The night air burned as it cycled rapidly though his lungs as his legs began to move by themselves. The remains of a vase cracked under his shoe, an orange shard ricocheting off a wall as he broke into a sprint.

Nostos ran. He pelted up the main street – lungs burning, dust and smoke rasping in his throat – kicking open doors as he passed. He yanked open windows, crawled under the shattered remnants of tables and beds, and hammered on chicken coops. He hauled himself up trees, ripped apart bushes, and vaulted fences. He even tried to call out, cupping his hands about his mouth like his brother had when shouting to his friends, but he couldn’t make the words come.

He stumbled to a stop by the little temple on the crown of the hill, coughing and dry heaving. The doors had been ripped off, the great metal halves flung halfway down the road with gouges a quarter-inch into the protective runes. His heart thudded so hard against his chest, it felt like the inside of his breastbone was bruising.

Nausea roiling in his stomach, Nostos staggered into the building. Seizing the thick, silver-knotted rope, he sank to the ground and dragging the bell into motion.

He wrenched it until his muscles screamed, watching as it swung wildly back and forth. A single, solitary pigeon exploded out of a hole in the roof.

Someone would come now. Someone would hear it and they’d come.

Please someone had to come!

It wasn’t until he collapsed, gasping, onto his back that he realised that his hands were bleeding.

Nostos lay there, gaze fixed immovably on the brass-coloured alarm, waiting.

The bell slowed, brass edges gleaming in the moonlight, and ponderously came to a stop.

It was only then that Nostos gave in to his fears and cried.

#Nostos and the Filigree Lantern #fantasy #dark fantasy #deaf #writing #writeblr

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